MTL - Limitless Sword God - Chapter 1299 Go back

You know what’s great? Turning eighteen.You know what’s not so great? Opening your eyes to a room you don’t know, followed by the world's most intense headache.This is how my story started. Where it goes from here is anyone's guess.---This is a Pokemon fanfic about a girl that gets brought into the Pokemon world from Earth.---This is my first time writing a fanfic so take it easy. Helpful criticism is appreciated and I may ask for suggestions but in the end I am writing this because I want to. I'm not sure what tags and genre will encompass this story but I will update it as it evolves.

Qin Xiaobai transmigrated into a husky.
And his master turned out to be a goddess-level live broadcast.
Reporter: “Miss Su, you are now the first sister of Douyu. What’s the secret of your success, is it your good looks or hard work?”
Su Wanqing thought for a long time, then pointed to Erha beside her and replied, “It doesn’t seem to be the case. The main credit for my current achievements is that my Erha is so outstanding! Sometimes I even doubt that my Erha is the protagonist. …”

- Description from novelbuddy

Cal was the pride of his guild, the one that other Initiates looked up to. Then he died. So did his guild.His understanding of the world shattered before his death. His guild was nothing compared to others, which meant he was the best of the worst.When Cal was given a second chance, he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes. Who cared about being a [Mage] when it would just mean death? He would survive, even if it meant being something he sneered at in his previous life.A [Farmer].Of course, when did anything go according to plan? Never.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.