Nine Yang Alchemy Emperor - Chapter 384 - 394 Senior Brother in Danger

Left out during the elementary school picnic.

Reborn Flames, a writer, who's known for his shitty novel, ‘The world of trials’, found himself stuck in his prologue. Not a writer’s block. Actual stuck as in real life stuck in his novel.Everything seem to go well yesterday, he was offered an adaptation for his novel, and a big interview was arranged by his company.But when he opened his eyes, he awaken to see a white room, and he mistakes reality for some sort of dream

In a world where Classes, Stats, and Levels are the everyday norm, Reivyn has a secret.He was unusually aware of his surroundings from an incredibly early age, and Skills and Stats were acquired easily. He was just the son of an ordinary village family, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary on the surface. But below the surface, dreams of another life help shape his mentality and growth. Why does he have some remembrance of a past life, and what is his purpose in this new one?“Soul of the Warrior” is what I call a Semi-Isekai LitRPG. I say “semi,” because Reivyn's past life is remembered like a dream, and very incomplete. It is still Isekai, though, as he remembers enough that it directly shapes his personality and his sense of self.The System that governs the world of “Soul of the Warrior” is a combination of modified versions from Selkie's “Beneath the Dragoneye Moons” and Kosnik4's “Magic Smithing.” I have changed enough of these Systems and combined them in a way that is unique that I'm mostly sure it's fine, but I still have requested permission to use these ideas. They have both graciously granted me permission.Winner of the April Writathon Challenge.

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”