A Necromancer Who Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 1208: The Method to Make the Book of the Dead

This is not your usual isekai novel. it has my unique world background, unique power system and i am trying it make it a unique experience for every reader. :)

Athan, a 16-year-old boy, lived until he was killed for a stupid reason. (stupid reason & more in the prologue:v)

But it seems that fate had stored different things for him as after death as he transmigrated in the magical world inside a dead body of a boy with the same name and same facial features as him.

He also found out that a mysterious black whirlpool seemed to be inside him.

Was someone responsible for his transmigration? if so then who? and why? or was it pure coincidence that he got a new chance at life?

Following the death of the emperor, the Astanian Empire plunged into chaos. His two sons both aiming for the throne caused a civil war that divided the empire.In the midst of this conflict, Alaric was forced into conscription. He later joined the crown prince’s army as a company commander.He led his 100-man army into battle, fiercely fighting with the hope of a better future. Unfortunately, he was just too weak to cause a ripple on the battlefield.A single arrow to the head shattered his hopes and he died without even a proper burial.Just when he thought that everything was over, he found himself back to his younger self with his memories intact.Armed with his knowledge of the future and a system that awakened his dormant powers, Alaric began his journey to overcome his fated demise.

Dan just wanted to be normal. College, maybe a girlfriend, a life free of drama. Fate had other plans. Now, chosen as a Goddess's champion against his will, Dan is dragged into a hidden world of ancient powers and deadly games. Can a reluctant hero master his divine gifts and survive, or will the weight of godhood crush him before he even begins?.....Thank you for taking the time to view my book. I'm a growing author and so it means a lot to me that you decided to check my book. If you do decide to go ahead to read the book I would like to warn ahead of the typos that I may have missed in a haste to post the work and for that I am sorry. Hope you like the story though. Thank you again for reading..

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.