Monster Harem In The Tower - Chapter 164: Dusty Chronicles: Memory Arc

It’s the 3rd of March of the Immortal Martial era.Under the Sect Leader’s unremitting efforts, the Qingyun Dao Sect finally welcomes its eighth disciple, Ye Ping.In order to make Ye Ping stay and to earn his respect, everyone in the sect resorts to all sorts of tricks to deceive him.They boast and pretend to be peerless Sword Dao experts, geniuses in cultivation, alchemy, refinement, divination, alchemy arrays, treasure appraising, and sons of destiny.For the sake of maintaining the image of geniuses, they teach Ye Ping all sorts of nonsensical things.They make Ye Ping try to gain an epiphany out of a random sword mark.They take out a random big pot and make Ye Ping refine supreme-grade pills with it.They take out a random copper coin and make Ye Ping deduce the ultimate heavenly secret.They initially hope to just delay the time that Ye Ping discovers the truth so that he would stay in the sect for a while longer.However, to their surprise, their new little Junior Brother… manages to learn everything.

Abandoned by Fate, but Chosen by Chaos.A world where magic reigns supreme and the mightiest wizards stand at the apex.A world where one’s mana affinity, if one even had it, determines one’s status in society, whether one could soar through the skies like a dragon or remain grounded, scraping by like rats or chickens.This was the world Hal Fennec was born into.Raised in the poverty of a border village, Hal had one wish: to give his mother a better life, one free from the constant fear of beast attacks and invasions by the Fellkin.But fate seemed to be playing a cruel joke.Despite being the brightest and most confident among his peers since childhood, Hal turned out to be barely qualified to become a wizard.His natural talent, contrary to his expectations, was nowhere near enough to fulfill even his modest dream of a decent city life.But then, just when his final hope was snuffed out and the future seemed gray and bleak, a twist of fate—or more fittingly Chaos—granted him a system that would turn everything around.

“Why does no one remember the true world?!”

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…