The Author's POV - Chapter 198: Dominating through fear [1]

When a normal human suddenly dies and enters another world with the almighty cheat, their very own system, what do you think would happen?

They will rise above every other being and soar the skies, for they will become an unstoppable force that brushes through the entire world, causing waves... Or so it normally goes, right?

After Victor dies, he did get transmigrated, but it wasn't as a rich young master or some character with unfathomable potential. NO. He woke up as a random dungeon mob in another world...

Read to follow Victor's journey through his new life as a mob.

Have you heard stories of love, love that would never waver for years, decades, centuries or even millenniums to come?But can you really call it love?To keep loving someone forever and ever can't be anything less than crazy, can it?This is one such story.A story of a crazy love.And it's also a story of ...Someone somewhere who wished to be saved.Someone somewhere who wished to be free.Someone somewhere who wished to be able to someday make a wish.It's a story that was supposed to be a fairytale but it turned too ugly, too twisted, and far too wretched to be called one.

An orphaned boy with dreams of making it big through being a blacksmith is given a once in a lifetime chance to succeed when he's taken in by an odd pair - Eggor and Ella. While former teaches him the arts of craft, the latter teaches him the mysticism of cultivation, granting him two paths to tread in this life.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.