Fantasy: I'm Really Not A Supreme Master! - Chapter 905 - 820: The Painter

WINNER: 3rd Place, 2021 Werewolf Competition

[Mature Content]

After escaping suicide forest, August Moon finds that she has only gone deeper into the mysteries it holds. Lycans exist. But maybe she is something even stranger...

With a clandestine experimental pandemic, a decade-old murder mystery, and a timeless prejudice against strange members within the lycan community all simmering in the periphery of her newfound surroundings, August must fight to discover her own truth alongside a fierce and possessive male who claims to be her mate.

Callius von Jervain.

A character who dies no matter what he does. A character who falls into a forced choice route where he can only die, no matter his choices up to that point. However, there is a single route where the character can live and play the game.

And I have to carve out that route somehow.

Because I’ve become Callius von Jervain in the game.

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.

We were a peaceful people living in harmony with nature in the vast lands of Lyréanor, but this peace was short-lived when our people were defeated by the dark elves, an ancient people even older than this world. It is said that they arrived in Lyréanor by boat and since their arrival, chaos has been unleashed. Proud of their obscure power, derived from dark rituals, they have raised gigantic armies of monsters whose name is synonymous with terror: ‘Obscurus’.They went on the rampage, and everywhere they went the grass didn't grow back, life died and disintegrated. Seven, there were seven. The seven dark elves known as the Lords of the Apocalypse. A single gesture from them was enough to strike us all down, a single gesture from one of them was enough to decimate us in blood and terror.And as I, Foster, contemplate the macabre scene before me, the bloodied and deformed bodies of my fellow elfes beings, and as death grips my soul, a strange sign appeared before me.[Ding... Activation of the world tree system]