Top-Class Insight: Start with Basic Fist Techniques - Chapter 192 - : There’s a Spirit Turtle in the Crimson Pool!

In a world where Classes, Stats, and Levels are the everyday norm, Reivyn has a secret.He was unusually aware of his surroundings from an incredibly early age, and Skills and Stats were acquired easily. He was just the son of an ordinary village family, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary on the surface. But below the surface, dreams of another life help shape his mentality and growth. Why does he have some remembrance of a past life, and what is his purpose in this new one?“Soul of the Warrior” is what I call a Semi-Isekai LitRPG. I say “semi,” because Reivyn's past life is remembered like a dream, and very incomplete. It is still Isekai, though, as he remembers enough that it directly shapes his personality and his sense of self.The System that governs the world of “Soul of the Warrior” is a combination of modified versions from Selkie's “Beneath the Dragoneye Moons” and Kosnik4's “Magic Smithing.” I have changed enough of these Systems and combined them in a way that is unique that I'm mostly sure it's fine, but I still have requested permission to use these ideas. They have both graciously granted me permission.Winner of the April Writathon Challenge.

Mira is determined to be a botanist—no matter how dangerous or violent it may become. Mira made two requests upon entering the multiverse: a botany class to further her research and to be dropped off in an isolated forest far from the violent god-rearing system BS going on. She was granted both—but not in the way she expected. The system abandoned her in a hellishly dangerous forest—where she earned a rare class that excelled at killing things.

In the year 3000, humanity was forced to leave the earth when a sudden mutation caused more than 70% of the planet's population to mutate either into zombies, werewolves or vampires. The humans put up a fight but didn't have a chance against the united front of the monsters and they were forced to leave. At least those who were rich and lucky enough to leave.

A century later, the chaos on earth had calmed down but the humans who were left behind were treated like slaves and were forced to join one of the three factions: The Undead, The Cold Ones or The Lycans when they turned 16.

It was a similar story for Ashton, who was one week away from being turned into one of the monsters as it was his 16th birthday. He decided to run away from his fate and join the secret resistance to battle against the monsters.

However, his plans came to a standstill, when a series of misfortunes leads him to be bitten by a Zombie, a Vampire and a werewolf before either of his powers could manifest.

He ended up receiving all of their powers, but at the cost of his humanity. Yet, he wasn't willing to let his humanity die. No matter the cost.

Will he be able to live his life, or was it already too late? Which faction will he join? Will he be able to find the secret behind the mutation?

There were too many questions, and only one way to find the answers: follow Ashton's journey as he fights back to retain his humanity.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.