World of Immortals - Chapter 184 – Smelting Three Divine Artifacts

Sylas Gray returns to his hometown in the countryside for a winter vacation to his ancestral home, only to find himself caught in the midst of an apocalyptic outbreak. The world descends into chaos as the undead overrun everything, and the small town he grew up in is no exception.With hope dwindling and death lurking around every corner, Sylas witnesses unspeakable horrors—brutal killings, betrayals, and the darker side of human nature. Yet, amidst the despair, Sylas refuses to give up. Determined to escape the town and reach the capital, he is thrust into a shocking revelation.A mysterious change occurs within him, granting Sylas the ability to sense and control space. He discovers that he possesses a pocket of space within his own body—a power that could be his key to survival.Follow Sylas as he embarks on a perilous journey, fighting to survive, uncovering the truth behind the apocalypse, and discovering the true potential of his newfound abilities.

Traveling to Los Angeles in the 1990s, Roland Allen, who had been beaten by society, thought that he would live an ordinary life in this life, but just when he was about to change careers, reincarnation began——

The number of roles is all determined by default, so they are all related households everywhere?

Sorry, as long as the hoe is swung well, there is no corner that cannot be dug.

- Description from novelbuddy

I've transmigrated to the Honkai World and became the future Herrscher of Ice, Kiana's cousin, Durandal's cousin, Ana Schariac.Hmph, I must become a Valkyrie aboard the Hyperion at all costs to survive!Come join the Ana fan club!Wait! I'm just a fictional character, not your wife!Players, you guys are so peculiar!Ah well, let's embrace the chaos!*****

[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.