MTL - Qingge - Chapter 35 Just be good to you

Darin was just a simple blacksmith. He wanted a quiet life, a steady job, and maybe enough money to fix the hole in his roof.But fate had other plans.Thanks to an unfortunate mix of coincidences, a ridiculous prophecy, and some very excitable villagers, Darin suddenly finds himself labeled as the reincarnation of an ancient, all-powerful Dark Lord. Now, knights want to slay him, cultists want to worship him, and political schemers want to manipulate him, all while he desperately tries to convince everyone that he is just some guy.With misunderstandings piling up faster than he can escape them, Darin must navigate a world that insists on making him its next great villain… whether he likes it or not.A comedy of mistaken identity, accidental power plays, and one very confused protagonist, I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord is a lighthearted fantasy adventure where every denial only makes things worse.

“Missus, time to fulfil your duties!” Mu Yuchen demanded as he pulled Xi Xiaye closer with his arms intimately wrapped around her waist.

[Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the Dimensional Motel System.][First Mission: A runaway princess—hailed as the most beautiful in the land is being hunted by her step-mother. She was originally headed to the dwarves’ cottage, but the System has rerouted her to your motel instead.][Protect her. Win her trust. And if you manage to woe her, you’ll earn her Affection Points.][Bonus Mission: Sleep with her evil stepmother to unlock more reward]'What kind of weird mission is this? And why does this story sound way too familiar?'

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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