Transmigrated as a Fat villain: All heroines are after me - Chapter 5 - - My luck officially run out

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.

Dual Cultivation is an art. The more you focus on doing the art, the worse it becomes. Only when doing it becomes part of the art itself, does one truly experience it to its fullest.

“We campaigned for a century, prevailing against all obstacles. The sole exception being the Marshal, who could not be defeated…… the military fame of the Marshal endures, yet the Alliance has been utterly crushed. From this day forth, all the glory belongs to the Marshal, himself.”

As the Alliance government that stood for a thousand years crumbled, the Galactic Empire rose into power. The supreme military leader of the Alliance, Gavin Silla, refused to surrender and chose to fight to the death for his nation.

“Your Majesty, in the Age of Old Earth, mint blossoms were believed to be an omen for reunion. In the language of flowers, it means—

—hoping to see you once more.”

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