MTL - I [Imperial] Am Not This Kind of Man - Chapter 242 Comprehensive Fanwai: Returning from Old Time Flowers (7)

Disclaimer: don’t own Minecraft or Percy Jackson

Born as a lowly goblin, Leav refused to accept fate’s cruelty. Through sheer will and tactical brilliance, he clawed his way up—evolving, battling, and commanding monsters who once saw him as nothing. But power comes at a cost. As war rages and enemies lurk in shadows, Leav faces betrayal, brutal losses, and the cold truth—strength alone won’t forge a kingdom. With ancient magic resurfacing and rival factions closing in, can he rise above mere survival and claim true dominion? In a world where the strong rule and the weak perish, Leav must choose: remain a pawn or become a king.

Cairn is a prince who is already tired of ruling. Faced with an imminent coronation and an overbearing father, he wants nothing more than to drown his responsibilities in cheap liquor and poor decisions. With the help of his sister, he hatches a plan to escape the clutches of the throne once and for all. It all goes terribly wrong, and Cairn finds his priorities shifting in the face of unimaginable tragedy. The change of heart comes too late, however, and Cairn dies. He reawakens to find himself transported ten years in the past. He immediately begins to plan for the future, only to discover his killer has somehow followed him. To succeed, Cairn must unite the kingdom and discover the motivation of his killer, using as many tries as it takes. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I exhausted pretty much every time loop story ever written and decided to write my own. You'll see a few similarities here between this story and some existing stories, at least initially. There's a lot of inspiration drawn from both MoL and Re:Zero, though in terms of pathos and darkness, this story leans more towards the latter. Be warned, it is something of a slow burn. The main character will grow and become powerful, but a theme of this story is that power comes slowly and often at great cost.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.