Surprise! I've Transmigrated Again - Chapter 189 - ⤞ Darkness Gains the Sympathy of Two Women

The Wilds relentlessly reclaim all things. Humanity shelters within their ever-dying cities. Mages create the only path forward.Tala had to fight tooth and nail in the Magic Academy to forge a path to power that was her own. She knows it’s her duty to use that power to serve humanity, defending them against the creatures of the untamable wilds. However, she skipped a few steps in her education, like apprenticing to someone who actually knows what they’re doing.Now, Tala has to balance learning as fast as she can with paying off the veritable mountain of debt the Magic Academy dropped on her shoulders for the opportunity; not to mention staying alive.Even though she should only be a Mageling, the world considers her a Mage. Bless the stars she directed most of her magic toward survival.

In times of peril, the overlooked Ninth Prince, Qin Wudao, steps up to hold the collapsing empire together, commands the six armies, carries out the sealing ceremony, and establishes an era of abundant prosperity.“Ding, congratulations, the check-in system is now in place!”Once awakened, the world becomes aware, who does not recognize this sovereign?

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

“We campaigned for a century, prevailing against all obstacles. The sole exception being the Marshal, who could not be defeated…… the military fame of the Marshal endures, yet the Alliance has been utterly crushed. From this day forth, all the glory belongs to the Marshal, himself.”

As the Alliance government that stood for a thousand years crumbled, the Galactic Empire rose into power. The supreme military leader of the Alliance, Gavin Silla, refused to surrender and chose to fight to the death for his nation.

“Your Majesty, in the Age of Old Earth, mint blossoms were believed to be an omen for reunion. In the language of flowers, it means—

—hoping to see you once more.”

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