The Royal's Cute Little Wife - Chapter 1.1

In a morgue filled with the bodies of Uchiha clan members, he opened his eyes...A mysterious voice echoed in his ears...With a bewildered expression, he muttered, “Save the Shinobi world? What does that have to do with me, a mere Uchiha survivor?”

Once, I really wanted to hang out at Hogwarts, living a life of eating and dying, picking up girls, provoking professors, and violating school rules to find excitement.

If you’re in a bad mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a good mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a bad mood, sorry, Voldemort, I’ll beat you anyway!

Dumbledore, do you need me to twist your nose back for you, although it will hurt a bit.

Professor Snape, you are a good person, um, I said this very seriously.

Others, don’t mind me summarizing you with an ellipsis?

………………

Later, I grew up…

Then, I can’t find a way back anymore…

I would like to write this article to commemorate me or our lost youth. I think of running under the sunset that day…

Produced by melon seeds, it is absolutely finished!

- Description from novelbuddy

Skyler's story was typical. He was publicly labeled a waste with no future as a Light — awakened individuals capable of wielding elemental powers. He thought that would be the end of it. But no, apparently that was not the case.He was teleported to the 'Battle Royal' to fight, even though he had zero powers and his age and potential were 100% ineligible!To make matters worse, he was not even the protagonist or transmigrator! He was just a freaking side character destined to die young in the story! And his death served only one purpose — to bring his sister closer to the protagonist!What a pitiful ending, right?However, unbeknownst to all, he wasn't meant to die but to become the best in two other realms, and they had altered the fate of that powerful King. Yet, there was a tiny problem — he didn't remember how he became overpowered in his past.

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!”