Pokemon: I Transmigrated Twice - Chapter 173: Pokemon: I Transmigrated Twice []

“Ahhhh why meeee?! I didn’t do anything, just played this shitty game, fuck, fuck fuck fuck!”[System: Your heart rate—]“Shut up! Millions of people played this shit and you choose me?! A fucking town girl who didn’t even stepped in a city in her life?! To be a fucking Empress?!”[System: You have fit the description][Woman, with no family. A woman who played at least 500 hours. A woman who reached max level. A woman who completed the final achievement. A woman who is in her late 20s.][Out of 43,456 candidates you were the one who got picked on a random roll. Be happy.]“Happy?! Happy that you have destroyed my life?! I bought my first house working twelve hour shifts every single fucking day and suddenly a black hole fucking vacuumed me in and I wake up in this terrible dress in a palace!”[System: Correct.]Indeed, the System was correct and even her, as she was in the grand palace of the Klimantina Empire, the exact same empire that she ruled… in the game at least.An empire that put her in the 17th century, the well known Rococo era… with a difference that it wasn’t based on a total fictional world, a total fictional country and its people and history.A game where the Empress took the throne after her family perished in a fire. In doing so, she not only assumed power but also entered a dangerous internal struggle, as her own people sought to overthrow her and claim the throne for themselves

In the Province of the Nine Skies, far above the heavens, there exists Nine Galaxies of Astral Rivers made up of countless constellations interwoven together.

For Martial Cultivators, they could form an innate link with one of the constellations, awaken their Astral Soul, and transform into a Stellar Martial Cultivator.

Legend has it that, the strongest cultivators in the Province of the Nine Skies, were beings that could open an astral gate every time they advanced into a new realm. Their talent in cultivation was such that they could even establish innate links with constellations that existed in a layer higher than the Nine Layers of Heavens, eventually transforming into the heaven-defying and earth-shattering power known as the War God of the Nine Heavens.

Qin Wentian is the MC of this story. How could a guy, with a broken set of meridians, successfully cultivate? There were countless Stellar Martial Cultivators, as there were countless constellations in the vast starry skies. What he wanted to be, was the brightest constellation of all, shining dazzlingly in the vast starry skies.

- Description from novelupdates

Sienna Monroe and Caleb Sinclair have been in a relationship for three years and married for three years. They were as close as could be.Until one day, a strange text message informed her that Caleb Sinclair had cheated.She originally thought it was a prank, but she didn't expect to witness him embracing another woman and kissing her passionately.At that moment, the years of happiness and joy collapsed in her heart, completely sinking into an abyss.Later, guided by the text message, she successfully obtained evidence of Caleb's infidelity and the gifts of villas, bags, and jewelry he gave to the mistress. She then entrusted Sebastian Prescott, the top lawyer in Imperial City, to handle this divorce lawsuit.When the truth came out, Caleb Sinclair, with reddened eyes, begged pitifully, “Sienna, I was wrong. I really love you. Please give me another chance.”Sienna Monroe's heart was already filled with disappointment, “Your love is too filthy, I don't need it.”Everyone in The Capital Circle knows that in the legal world, Sebastian Prescott is noble and aloof, an untouchable and unattainable figure.Sienna Monroe thought the same, but it was precisely such a person who said to her, “I can help you heal, would you consider it?”

With an entwined fate, Ajab has to make a choice.But does fate belong in the hands of the Prince? Are the firmaments his for the splitting? Can he save his heart or dive head face into his death?Maybe sometimess doing nothing is our most vicious fight.At the end, the pen determines the way the ink flows, so who cares if it's death or fate, or even the firmaments, just leave it to the Author.