An Unexpected Proposal - Chapter 67

To exist in a certain place, at a certain time—it's always either by chance, or by choice.But sometimes,There is a third force.One that doesn't ask.One that doesn't explain.It simply places you—wherever it wants.Arséne had always been dragged into places he never chose.Situations he never asked for.Realities he never belonged to.And when, at last, he decided to act on his own terms—To take the initiative,To move first,To choose…He simply died.

Seven billion humans living on the Earth time-traveled together after they had woken up one morning. They all heard a synthesized female voice.

The Apocalypse is in full swing. Defiled - powerful creatures corrupted by the Great Collision - prowled the lands in search of prey. Unfortunately for them, the human race had long since retreated behind the secure walls of the Sanctuary of Everlast. During one of his regular excursions outside the Sanctuary, Alden is separated from Celeste. - his childhood friend and crush. In that moment, he came to regret never summoning the courage to confess. Somehow managing to survive thanks to some trickery, Alden awakens as a mage. Instead of receiving a normal power, he gains the ability to decay. What’s more, during his ascension, he received a vision from his future self advising him not to trust the Asterons - celestial beings who had saved his race from inescapable doom. Normally... such a revelation wouldn’t faze Alden. However, there was only one major problem with the declaration, though. Celeste was bound with an Asteron. And not just any normal Asteron... She had made a pact with one of the Divine Sovereigns.

[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.