Lv1 Skeleton - Chapter 11

After his father was murdered and his peaceful village massacred, Sol woke up to find a mysterious old man standing over him claiming to be his new Master.

“You want revenge, don’t you? I’ll train you so you have the strength to take it, but you have to become my one and only disciple first!”

Sol’s peaceful village life training with his father ended for his journey of revenge and hatred to begin. However, on this journey, he would meet people who slowly changed him; who would go on to become his friends and loved ones.

Sol’s desire for revenge faded to be replaced by something else, a desire much stronger than before.

“I no longer seek revenge. What I now seek is to create a world where no one has to experience pain and suffering. And the only way to do that… is to rule!”

However, there was a catch. Would the powerful hegemonies who rule the world and cause chaos with their conflicts allow this boy to usurp their long reign?

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any events, places, or names are all from the author's imagination and Google. If someone in any way assumes this book to be real or based on real events, I strongly suggest you send me Golden Tickets for doing such a good job.

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I opened my eyes to find myself in another world. For some odd reason, I ended up as a sword. Before my eyes laid a plain full of magic beasts, and so, I launched my body and flew in search of a partner, a wielder (females only). Wait. Absorbing magic stones gets me skills? Oh hell yeah! This be fun! More, more, give me more! Gimme all your magic stones! Okay, yeah no, but I am accepting anything anyone’s willing to give. This tale is one that follows your everyday nerd, normal as could be, save for the fact that he happened to reincarnate as a sword.

Dropped

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”