Refining the Mountains and Rivers - Chapter 5 – Increase in Cultivation

The next morning, Jian Anning asked, “What is happiness?” Yu Xingxing hooked his lips into a smile and suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace. “Happiness,” he said, “is being with the one you love and doing things that make you happy. Let's continue, wife!” Jian Anning kicked him off. “Get lost!”

Balthazar was just a random giant crab enjoying his life in a fantasy world full of bothersome human adventurers, but then he had to go and accidentally discover the secret of attributes and levels. And also pie. With baked goods and coin as his new life goals, he turns to the competitive business of trading the random junk adventurers loot every day.Follow Balthazar as he does everything to find a baker... except leave his pond, because exploring the dangerous world out there is for suckers. Witness how adventurers just can't seem to stop dying around his home. And cheer for a crab who makes great new friends by simply buying them.Book 2 is out now, with new chapters every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, fresh off the bakery!What to expect from this story:- No harems, not unless they're a harem of gold coins.- Silliness, lots of it. The story doesn't take itself too seriously, so you shouldn't either.- The only kind of OP here is how “overpriced” the crab's deals are.- A system simple enough for a crab to use, but still conveniently complex when necessary, for some odd reason.- Proper realistic adventurers: they're not very bright, and they make very poor decisions.- Did I mention there will be pastries?

“When the old gods are forgotten, they do not die—they wait.”In the year 1025, the Viking Age wanes.Iceland bows to Christ. The Althing governs by law. And the gods of old fade to whispers.But in the far Westfjords, something stirs.Vetrulfr, a former Varangian captain and exile, returns from the East with foreign gold, forgotten warcraft, and a hunger no man can name.He comes not in peace, but to raise Ullrsfjörðr from ash and ice; building walls, carving runes, and waging war on behalf of a dying faith.From Reykjavík to Aachen, rumors spread: a ghost walks the North once more. Some call him the son of Ullr. Others, a wolf-cloaked demon.But all will know his name.and when the Valkyries call, he will answer.

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…