MTL - Looking After a Battle God With Hundreds of Billions in Supplies - Chapter 7 Su Ying, you must die

Thrown into a brutal world of swords and sorcery, his memories stolen by an unseen force, Magnus wanted only one thing: to go home.But every kingdom, devil, and god — along with regressors, possessors, and fellow reincarnators — seeks to carve him apart.Survival demands war. War demands survival.And with a System that hides more than it reveals, Magnus is dragged down a bloodstained path... one battle, one betrayal, one broken world at a time.

In a distant future, seven centuries after the cataclysmic mana storm, the world of Gaïa transformed into a realm infused with magic. The fabric of reality shifted, revealing the manifestation of stats, skills, and levels through ethereal windows, visible to all. A new era emerged, where humanity awoke to the concept of Classes, bestowing upon them unique abilities and the potential for greatness. However, only the truly exceptional would ascend to seize the Throne in this extraordinary Era of Players.Noah uttered profound words, his eyes shimmering with an unearthly force. “Life itself is akin to a prison, but fear not, for I, Death, shall set you free.”

I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.Then I woke up.Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.

A replica of Marquis Kieran Vale, the son of the Marchioness of Vale, who she deemed a failure. That was all she was. No, she was now referred to as “he.” At least until she met Claude Del Ihar.