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... curled eyelashes tickled her husband’s chin, waking the husband up too.

“Morning,” greeted the husband in a sexy hoarse voice while tightening his arms around his wife.

“Morning,”

“Did I ever tell you that you smell extremely addicting when you just wake up?”

The wife laughed at her husband’s praise. “Every morning, honey.”

Her husband smiled with satisfaction at this answer, and for the umpteenth time, the man planted his lips deep against his wife’s rip ...

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“Why is this happening…?”

Mia Luna Tearmoon, Princess of the Tearmoon Empire, muttered to herself as she stood shackled on the execution platform.

The faces of the spectators surrounding her were, without exception, filled with indignation.

Before long, Mia was executed at the hands of the revolutionists, who were fed up with the heavy taxation.

But the next moment, she unexpectedly found herself lying on her bed.

It was eight years ago, when she was just a mere kid.

For a while, Mia even wondered if she was hallucinating. However, what appeared on her bedside table was a bloodstained diary that she had written herself.

That day, Mia’s screams could be heard echoing throughout the palace.

Mia was not a vicious person by nature. She was simply incapable of understanding the pain and hunger of others, and by the time she discovered it, it was already too late to do anything.

After she regressed back to her childhood, Mia struggled hard to trace back the events of the past with the help of her blood-stained diary and memories.

Was it to save the future of a declining empire?

Was it to save the soldiers who died in the civil war?

Was it to save the people from famine?

No, she had only one goal.

To avert her fate of facing the guillotine (execution)!

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Can't a man maintain his dignity while preparing for the end of the world? Is that too much to ask?

The Tower was all I knew... all any of us knew, and just like that, it was gone. Monsters the likes of which I'd never seen ravaged the land of my ancestors. They burst through the outer walls and stormed the city. No one could have been ready for that. But now... Now I have a second chance.

After the collapse of the known world, I woke up to find myself on the First Floor of the Tower. I was young and healthy, 18 again, and sitting in the same classroom that marked the worst days of my life. Confused and excited, I accepted this gift, deciding to use my vast knowledge of the future to climb the Tower in preparation for the end of the world.

Maybe I'll help some folks along the way? Who knows. Survival comes first.

The clock is ticking, and I'm left with only a century to build a Deck powerful enough to survive the end. Things to do... What's first? I need Essence, and I need power. I'll have to climb the Tower to acquire both of these. Some of the zealots will try to stop me, need to look out for those. What if-

“Hey, kid! Hand over the pouch or-”

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Sorry, where was I? Ah... there's a spot of blood on my suit. What a lousy morning.

In this world of blood and fantasy, century-old Rowan Wilder has to not only survive, but thrive as he powers his way to the top of the Tower. The Demonic Plague that has twisted the creatures on the upper Floors is the least of his worries. Cane in hand and Summons by his side, he'll have to tear his way through the monsters, as well as the humans who want to stop his ascent. Of course, he can maintain a sense of decorum while he faces these trials, right?