Getting reborn: I will make a harem this time. - Chapter 8: This isn’t so bad

A fourth chance at life. The last chance.Zarek remembered when he first experienced the Godsfall Apocalypse. Those tears of red and sparkling rouge that split the skies, opening up one dangerous realm after another.That feeling of helplessness had been palpable, heavy... suffocating. It hung above his head like a guillotine, an edge graced by death's kiss...He grinned at it.One last ride, no Talents left on his stat screen, and nothing but a dull machete and his girl by his side. What was a better thrill than that?How could he possibly fail a fourth time?Unfortunately, there were others. Other Rebirthers. Some that might have been on their last attempt just like him, or some that still had more to give to this cruel world.None of it mattered, though. He had planned everything out meticulously, each life playing its own role.He would come out on top this time. How could he not?He was Zarek Ashborn.

Max always wanted a more exciting life, and after being reincarnated into the far future and a Galaxy in constant war, his wish was granted.

Discovered to have a high compatibility with his new world's Technological System, he was drafted as a child into training to become one of their elite Mecha Pilots, the heroes of the Kingdom who face down even the mightiest of threats from inside giant Mecha, wielding the mightiest of weapons known to mankind.

All he has to do is prove himself worthy.


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Thirty thousand years ago, the Heaven Fighting Race who called themselves “Gods” invaded the Spirit Realm. Hundreds of races rose up in resistance, but ultimately suffered a crushing defeat. The Human Race was the first to concede, and the rest of the Hundred Races soon followed in succession.

Teotihuacan, a sacred place of worship. In the vast world, feel the quaint and desolate ancient city, and the eagle cries and the leopard roars are chasing away.

Go back to Central America 700 years ago, when the Aztecs were very prosperous.

The priests stood at the top of the pyramid of the sun. One hundred thousand warriors covered the entire wilderness. fluttering. The high priest held his hands high, and the obsidian dagger gleamed in the sun, drawing a cruel and gorgeous arc, bringing the cycle of life back to the earth. Tens of thousands of cheers sounded, with the reverence of the ignorant era.

This was a gift dedicated to the sun god, in return for the sacrifice of the gods in creating the world.

Solemn sacrifices from sunrise to sunset, all-night revelry ignited the whole night, and so on for a hundred years, until white-skinned terrors came from the east coast, bringing blood, thunder, monsters, and disease.

Doomsday, as legend has it, or the end of the Fifth Era?

How can a traveler, in this fierce era, inherit the legacy of two thousand years of ancient Mesoamerican civilization, resist the invasion of Western colonizers with an immortal soul, and lead the ancient Aztec civilization to a new path ~~

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