Limits - Chapter 267: Inner Limits

All humans transmigrated to a parallel world, where every one of them was a king with the territory.

They participated in a game called The Ranking of Kings and fought to become the best nation.

The rankings were determined based on various aspects such as military, technology, commerce, culture, and religion.

In the game, the kings would awaken different attributes of the land.

Someone exclaimed, “My Renewable Resources attribute allows me to enhance raw materials such as timber and minerals. I want to build the strongest empire of commerce!”

Another king challenged, “My King of the Undead attribute allows me to summon dead souls to fight for me. Who dares to stand in the way of my troops of one million undead?”

The third king declared, “My Integrated Production attribute will ensure that technology is being implemented efficiently. You foolish barbarians, watch as my nation advances a few centuries ahead of yours.”

The fourth king said, “My Miracle Summon attribute can increase the efficiency of evangelism by 1000%. I look forward to the day when my nation becomes the top religion in the world.”

…

Li Xiang revealed a pondering look as he looked at his attributes shown on the virtual data panel.

[Attribute 1: Devils’ Den (SSS rank, unique)]

[You acquired the original birthplace of the Dragon Clan. All the legendary dragons are now under your command.]

[Attribute 2: Devouring Lands (currently A rank, evolvable)]

[When you annex the territory of other kings, you seize their attributes as well. Furthermore, you can level up these attributes to even higher ranks.]

The six prefectures of Zhongbo were offered to foreign enemies on a silver platter, and Shen Zechuan was taken into custody in the capital, reduced to a drowning dog—loathed and condemned by all.Xiao Chiye followed the scent of the furor and made his way over. But instead of setting others on him, he kicked Shen Zechuan with his very own leg, rendering the latter an invalid. Who would expect this invalid to turn around and bite him in a counterattack until he was all drenched in blood?That was the start of an epic feud between both men who tore at each other every time they come face-to-face with one another.“Fate wants to bind me here for life, but this is not the path I choose. The yellow dust submerged my brothers deep under. I have no wish to bow in submission to an illusory fate. The imperial edict can’t save my troops, and the imperial court can’t fill the stomachs of my mounts. I’m no longer willing to lay down my life for this purpose. I want to surmount that mountain. I am going to fight for myself.”Note: A ‘drowning dog’ is someone who is down and out, having lost favor or power.

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

- Description from novelbuddy