MTL - Dali Temple Small Dining Room - Chapter 411 Stewed chicken with mushrooms and rice noodles in chicken soup (3)

Bought it right away.

Once transmigrated, the Mob Queen became a small peasant girl and was given a small bun.

Her parents were biased, while her siblings disliked her. Her father, aunt, and brother bullied the weak and feared the strong. Was her eccentric grandfather trying to sell her for money? She also wanted to get involved …

What should he do? The Queen rolled up her sleeves. Don't be afraid, just do it.

However, he had accidentally provoked the man he had picked up from the mountain.

“I will raise you and you will belong to me,” the mountain man said.

Hehe, raise your ass!

He started a fertile field, raised livestock, and his days became more and more popular. He even collected the mighty and domineering Han warm bed in the mountains for his use.

However... How did you become a general in this mountain?!

In the year 4 Before the New Calendar, just four years before the arrival of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Lyle finds himself sitting by the roadside, gnawing on a piece of coarse black rye bread. His gaze is hollow, tinged with despair—he has been transported to the world of Overlord.The prospect of facing the devastating events to come chills him to the bone. In just a few years, the Great Tomb will unleash its might, razing nations and reshaping the world. Lyle foresees two grim paths ahead: perishing in the cataclysmic aftermath or surviving to live under the rule of the Sorcerer Kingdom.But as hopelessness threatens to consume him, a unique panel materializes before his eyes: Innate Ability: “Player”.Armed with the same advantage as the feared entities of Nazarick, Lyle resolves to carve his destiny. If they're all players in this grand game, why should he cower before them? The race against time begins as he seeks to grow stronger, navigate the treacherous world, and defy the fate that looms ever closer.

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!”