Put Away Your Divine Techniques Now! - Chapter 897 - 267: [Wealthy Family]

A new emperor rules each year in Yohuachanca.Only the most delicious of food graces his palate; the realm’s most beautiful women fill his harem; his palace dazzles the mind in its beauty; and four priestesses counsel him in all matters. The life of an emperor is good, luxurious, and short. For at the year’s end, he is sacrificed to the Nightlords under the light of the Scarlet Moon.I am Iztac. A pisspoor orphan and the year’s emperor. A sacrifice bound for the altar. But the vampires have made a mistake this time. For I am a sorcerer, whose soul journeys into the secret underworld to plunder the secret spells of the dead. There, in the darkness, hides the power to drag the Nightlords off their throne. I have a year to find it, or perish for good.I may not be the first emperor, but I will be the last.

I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.

The Universe is collapsing, and the realms are merging. To ensure humanity's survival, the heavens blessed the race with [talents] but that is far from enough. Only the gatekeeper can return the balance and stop the collapse, but why does it have to me?If the heavens think they can dictate my fate, I will make them pay the ultimate price...This soul will not be controlled...This soul will not be manipulated...I will cover the heavens with one hand!

Chang’an, Jan. 14th of lunar month, Tianbao Year 3 (744AD), Tang Dynasty.

For residents of Imperial City, what awaits them when the city enjoys its dazzling brilliance and joy of the Lantern Festival is an unexpected catastrophe that’ll destroy all. Tujue (a nationality in the north of ancient China), Wolfpack, kidnapping, assassination, rampant flames that scorch all…start the gear for the doom of and the Longest Day in Chang’an.

And the only hope lies in a one-eyed convict sentenced to death and the fleeting Twelve Hours…Will Chang’an, the city of prosperity, survive the longest day ever or will it burn…