BTTH: Starting from Capturing the Goddess - Chapter 70 - 74: Falling Asleep in Each Other’s Arms

In a world where Classes, Stats, and Levels are the everyday norm, Reivyn has a secret.He was unusually aware of his surroundings from an incredibly early age, and Skills and Stats were acquired easily. He was just the son of an ordinary village family, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary on the surface. But below the surface, dreams of another life help shape his mentality and growth. Why does he have some remembrance of a past life, and what is his purpose in this new one?“Soul of the Warrior” is what I call a Semi-Isekai LitRPG. I say “semi,” because Reivyn's past life is remembered like a dream, and very incomplete. It is still Isekai, though, as he remembers enough that it directly shapes his personality and his sense of self.The System that governs the world of “Soul of the Warrior” is a combination of modified versions from Selkie's “Beneath the Dragoneye Moons” and Kosnik4's “Magic Smithing.” I have changed enough of these Systems and combined them in a way that is unique that I'm mostly sure it's fine, but I still have requested permission to use these ideas. They have both graciously granted me permission.Winner of the April Writathon Challenge.

All my life, I never once know what it is to be a family. My parents did not care about me and didn't let me start with my siblings.Even when I diagnose with Terminal Illness by the doctor, they did not care about me.The only thing that accompanies me in this lonely hospital bedroom is the game called Second Life. Sadly, all good things must end, and so is Second Life.I decide to stay inside the game until the end and wait for me to release my final breath.However, I'm reincarnated to another life when I open my eyes. I promise to enjoy my Second Life in this world.Now, if only this woman stopped calling me a villain for a second, that would be great.

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.

She was a peerless genius in the 24th Century – all she needed was a silver needle and she could practically bring anyone back from the dead.