His to Howl, Hers to Ignite - Chapter 102: Bitter Brew.

A novel about the Government and its people becoming one to raising their country back up.

A militaristic style novel that implements slight futuristic technology as the plot's basis.

Zion, a solo adventurer, recklessly entered a dungeon beyond his ability.Alas, that was the last thing he did. Wandering inside a dungeon for hundreds of years, as an undead, he kept advancing into the dungeon. Slaying monsters left and right until his undead body underwent ‘evolution’ many times over――――By the time he regained his ego, he had already become the strongest undead: 【No Life King】.Humankind, who was made aware of the appearance of a new world-class disaster monster, felt dread as they fell into the abyss of despair. 「The world is… done for.」…Or so they think.「It’s okay, do I look like an evil undead to you?（Smile~）」「「「HIIIIIIIIIIIII?!」」」「…SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!」This was the tale of the humans who trembled in fear [out of their own convenience] and him, an undead, who actually had no intention to destroy the world.

Beasts of all kinds—spiritual beasts, demonic beasts, rare beasts, celestial beasts, ancient relics, dragons of fortune, sword spirits, corpse puppets, gu insects, mechanical marvels, and elemental spirits—every form and technique can be mastered.The story begins in a third-rate cultivation sect, the Beast Taming Sect……Struggle through the weak paths; ascend with the mastery of beasts!

We were a peaceful people living in harmony with nature in the vast lands of Lyréanor, but this peace was short-lived when our people were defeated by the dark elves, an ancient people even older than this world. It is said that they arrived in Lyréanor by boat and since their arrival, chaos has been unleashed. Proud of their obscure power, derived from dark rituals, they have raised gigantic armies of monsters whose name is synonymous with terror: ‘Obscurus’.They went on the rampage, and everywhere they went the grass didn't grow back, life died and disintegrated. Seven, there were seven. The seven dark elves known as the Lords of the Apocalypse. A single gesture from them was enough to strike us all down, a single gesture from one of them was enough to decimate us in blood and terror.And as I, Foster, contemplate the macabre scene before me, the bloodied and deformed bodies of my fellow elfes beings, and as death grips my soul, a strange sign appeared before me.[Ding... Activation of the world tree system]