Immortality: Raising an Ant Queen to Cultivate by increasing stat points - Chapter 553 - 545 - Unconventional Methods and Orthodoxy

Echoes of the Lost Elf – Back Cover SynopsisA legend long forgotten. A war long past. A magus who vanished into history.A thousand years ago, Historias Everglen, the greatest magician to ever walk the earth, mysteriously disappeared after leading the world to victory in the First War against the Void. The high elf, creator of Castellas Academy, the most prestigious magic institution, faded into myth—his name spoken only in whispers, his fate unknown.But history does not stay buried forever.When a group of young students, lost in the Everglen Forest, stumbles upon an enigmatic figure in the heart of the ancient woods, they unknowingly awaken an echo of the past. Unrecognized, Historias decides to return to his own academy—not as its master, but as a student. Beneath his youthful guise lies an immortal being who has spent a millennium mastering magic, swordsmanship, and alchemy in solitude.As shadows of the Void begin to stir once more, the world stands on the brink of another catastrophe. Enemies rise, secrets unravel, and forgotten legends take their place in the present. But one question lingers:Will the world recognize its lost protector before it’s too late?

The paramount existences among daemons are known as ‘Great Sages’.

A young man leaves the mountain village and wanders the world, entering the legends step by step, becoming a part of mythology itself.

When I cleared the final chapter of a game that was a national failure, I became an unnamed side character in it.

A non-standard, unmeasurable, EX rank supporting character.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.