Reborn In The Apocalypse: It Had Always Been You - Chapter 73

Teenage earth dweller Lu Qingfeng died in a car accident and traversed to a world of cultivation.He acquired the Login Ring of “Primordial”, a massive immersive online game developed by the Earth Federation two thousand years later, and travelled across primordial worlds.

“Elysia, why are you always subtly asking about how Michael's doing?”“Oh? Do I? Maybe it's because he was the only Herrscher in our era who fought for humanity! He was both the First Herrscher and a human named Michael. Yes! That's definitely it!” Facing Mei's question, Ellie just offered a faint smile.“What about Mobius?”“Tch!” The green-haired little girl snorted dismissively, turning her head away.“Who else?” Mei covered her face.“Pardo?”“W-w-what! Kalpas is clearly very concerned about Boss Michael too!”“Get lost!”“Kevin?”“It's not entirely what you think. He has a much more important meaning to us—a family member we promised to walk towards the future with.”-----True Love Warrior Protagonist, Not very Mental stable Protagonist, Pessimistic Protagonist, Anti-Hero Protagonist, Crybaby Protagonist, Michael x Elysia. Oh, Michael... Don't come here; I'm just writing nonsense.

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.