Global Game: I, the Necromancer, am the scourge - Chapter 1181 - 683

It was a cold and lonely death on the battlefield despite the thousands of warriors around me and the beating sun shining upon my corpse.

In the year 431, I had died on the battlefield.

I was reincarnated into a new world, hoping my life would be better, but I ended up in a more miserable situation than before.

As the sickness began to eat the insides of my mother, a saving grace that would pull me out of the darkness, but into the abyss... had come.

[A system is being chos-

[Interference by higher being]

[Error]

[Authority is insuffici-

[Error]

[Authority is sufficient]

[Your god has been selected]

[Your system has been granted]

[Ares System is being installed]

When the Soul Plague arrived, it struck fast, transforming its victims into soulless monsters. The horde swept across the land unchecked—until the Awakened appeared. These survivors, immune to the plague, turned the tide of war into a bloody stalemate. But while the front lines held, the plague continued to spread and the horde only grew in number.Desperate for reinforcements, the World Government began conducting controlled infections of its able-bodied citizens to produce more Awakened. Hill was one of the conscripts. After going through a harrowing trial induced by the plague, his life was torn apart and remade: he emerged Awakened, endowed with strange new powers—but also bound by a dark curse that resides deep within his own soul.As Hill learns to wield his abilities alongside fellow survivors, he uncovers unsettling truths about the plague’s true nature and the hidden price of becoming one of humanity’s last line of defense.

After the heartbreaking execution of his parents due to their lower status and their rebellion against the King of Varanasi. Sukoh Yadav a fourteen year old boy sets of to China along a merchant group to become a great General in China and to conquer his homecountry and abolish the very idea of caste.

The literature of this other world was atrocious.So, I plagiarized.Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Metamorphosis… I thought that unraveling the literature of the original world would advance the literature of this other world.“Those who dream and those who do not, who really is the mad one?”“To live or to die, that is the question.”“No matter how fatal the mistake, it is different from a sin.”But then, people began to immerse themselves too deeply in the novels I plagiarized.Can’t a novel just be seen as a novel…?