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... were randomly dropped on the ground. One page was more prominent than the others. Some seem to have been detached from the book. The boy's magnificent eyes kept looking at it, and whenever he reached out, he was immediately stopped.

Tick, tick.

The scarlet liquid dropped from the fingertips, a little sticky and a little hot.

"Lao Tzu was still a chubby when he was this age, and he is still a chubby now. This kid turned out to be the boss of the Dark Dragon? It was deceiving ...

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If you could return to the day you met, what would the two of you do?

“Ah! Fate is unfathomable like that. Never would anyone be able to guess that such an ordinary encounter could lead to such an extraordinary future. Although our encounter that day contributed to a resplendent future, I sometimes find myself reminiscing about ordinary days. If time could be rewound, would I choose to step foot into that tavern where we met… Ah, no! Even if that tavern had not existed, we would definitely have met anyway, because our encounter was indispensable fate!”

– Bard

“With my blade, I’ll cut the tavern, destiny, and this bastard in half all at the same time.”

– Red Cloak

Female Warrior details the 1st generation of the Twelve Holy Knights from .

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I lived like any ordinary person when a stranger suddenly approached me, “You are… a hero.”

The Poet's SystemChapter 45: Act of Adaptation
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At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

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