Tribe: I Become Invincible With My 10,000x Bonus From The Start - Chapter 370 - Start the War, Blade Hunters!  

On the way to a company workshop, we fell into a world of immortal cultivators while still in the car.

Those with spiritual roots and unique abilities were all called to join cultivation sects, living prosperously.

But I, having neither spiritual roots nor special abilities, lived as an ordinary mortal for 50 years, complying with fate until my death.

That’s what I thought.

Until I regressed.

Hybern is defeated, but peace is not yet near. An ancient prophecy foretells the fusion of two souls. Nova, daughter of Feyre and Rhysand of the Night Court is to be joined with Hollis, son of Kallias and Viviane of the Winter Court. Without this union, it has been said death will claim the Fae lands, and in its destruction, all the Courts will fall.

The literature of this other world was atrocious.So, I plagiarized.Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Metamorphosis… I thought that unraveling the literature of the original world would advance the literature of this other world.“Those who dream and those who do not, who really is the mad one?”“To live or to die, that is the question.”“No matter how fatal the mistake, it is different from a sin.”But then, people began to immerse themselves too deeply in the novels I plagiarized.Can’t a novel just be seen as a novel…?

[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.