Sword, Magic and Academic Society - Chapter 319Vol. 1 - - School Festival (1)

Elena, who spent her entire life as a cold-blooded female knight to avenge her family, ended up dying without claiming her revenge. When she opened her eyes she found that she went back into the past. By day she was a lady in a dress, and at night she carried a sword to change history and prevent her family’s destruction.

Betrayed and condemned to death by the very family he served, Vikir, the hound of the Baskervilles, refuses to accept his fate.

With eyes ablaze and canines sharpened, he vows vengeance against his former master, Hugo. No longer a mere loyal companion, Vikir becomes the hunter, determined to exact bloody revenge and reclaim his honor.

In a mind-blowing twist, I found myself reborn into a steampunk-themed JRPG made by a Japanese game company. To my shock, I was appointed as an executive of the villainous faction. However, the protagonist’s party was way too diligent.

Collecting legendary antiques, retracing the mysterious martial arts. From the moment he activated his cheat, Casio knew that he was no longer ordinary.[Legendary Antiques: Wind Elephant Ivory Pendant]Seventy years ago, in the North Flow Country of the Hong Li Federation, at the Wind Elephant Gate Youth Training Camp.“Li Wei, you are a coward! On the day your sister was brutally murdered, you were trembling in a corner! On the night of the Sect Destruction War, you disgracefully fled! During the many long years of revenge, you missed the opportunity again and again!”“Now let me teach you what bravery is, let me tell you how to turn suffering into your power. I hope at the moment you behead your enemy, you will remember: you are a man, an upright man!”The taboo era, hidden legends. A Foggy continent paralyzed by the sealed land. Countless brilliant antiquities wail in the ruins.I will witness your lost legends in the mist, the knights in the sky, the ghosts in the desert, the rats in the mud. The direction of sword fights points to the light, and flowers will grow where bullets fall. The winds of history will eventually sweep away the rubbish from the era's gravesite.