Reincarnated As A Baby? My Cry Is A Dragon Roar! - Chapter 479 - Arriving at the Central Yan Continent

In a mass ambush at the Battle of the Gods, the four major guilds with all their armies surrounded one man alone: McRae, known by all players as the God of War.

But even the God of War could not survive alone against hundreds of attackers.

Yet, when McRae opened his eyes again, he’d returned to the first-day launch of the game, [Divine Domain]- and he still had his full-level character, with all classes available to him to switch freely between at any time.

With all his previous memories, McRae knew that their entire world would soon merge with the game world, where death would become permanent… And so he turned on Divine Domain once more– this time fully aware of every detail about the players, the treasures, and the game itself.

Before the four guilds were even formed, McRae would have a guild and an army of his own.

Go back to 2000.

Lin Feng didn’t want to disturb the situation, he just wanted to protect the things he cherished.

However, there is no need to explain the open life.

Since it’s all over again, there’s no turning back when you open the bow!

- Description from novelbuddy

The Domain Of Gods exists!

For years, Cain searched for ways on his Modern Earth to travel to the world where beings akin to Gods roam about. Nobody believed he could do it, but Cain never gave up.

And after so many arduous years, he finally created the ritual that would transmigrate him to the Domain Of Gods!

When the ritual had actually worked, Cain should've been positively elated. He even managed to transmigrate into the body of a genuine Dragon Prince. But, there was one major problem.

Despite being the grandson of a Dargon God, he had zero cultivation for 18 years of his life!

But, instead of feeling despair or cursing his luck over such a cliche scenario, Cain welcomed this problem with a maddening smile.

Who cares if I have zero cultivation?! I will become a free reign expert no matter the means!

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”