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Dance with the Nightingale

The Nightingale. The beauty and the taboo existing together. Unattainable and unacceptable. An existence only to be admired from afar. A hero of legends but a also a girl of tragedy. Shining like a star in the sky, all alone, forever… -But that’s too sad isn’t it? * Our MC, an ordinary middle aged man, is an author that wrote books and after pouring 2 years of hard work in a book, his hardwork finally bore fruit as his book got the second prize in the regional awards. A fruit that he couldn't eat. Why? Because he along with hard work, he also poured his piss somewhere he shouldn't and died. Exactly how? Read the prologue, and you will find out~ But of course, that's only the start, as the next time he woke up... He was in another world. Follow the guy as he turns from a middle aged author to a Young Master in a magical world. *** Hey guys author here… It’s my first novel, but I will try to make this good. Good luck me. Vote this book with power stones, it really helps with your support. Before giving up please read Prologue and 1st 10 chapters. Also I have set up prologue to be a bit funny and ridiculous, so, don't mind next chapter won't be like that. My discord server link: https://discord.gg/8dvVYW8QUn P.S.: I don't own the cover art, whoever does can take credit for it.

Kisara_Hiroto · ファンタジー
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126 Chs

Chapter 64: The Rolling Wheels and the Magus’ test.

The sound of the rolling wheels entered my ears as I enjoyed the view of the road passing by.

-Flip

Turning a page of the book I was reading, a magical book thanks to the courtesy of 'Gandalf', I barely suppressed a yawn.

A week and half had passed since that night.

In the end, both Cana and Syrus found us before long. And thankfully, they took in account how tired I was, and decided to spare me from their questioning.

Passing the still sleeping Allen to Cana, I was about to order the group to retreat when Syrus reminded me of one last task – Salvaging the corpse.

It was a basic common sense in this world to loot the corpses of enemies or even comrades who died in action. And yet, me who had actually made this cruel common sense had forgotten about that.

I was just that tired, or maybe I just didn't want to be anywhere near that woman's corpse.