Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins!
I swear to god, when my parents named me Tereda Chouju I don't think this is what they meant!
Yes, certainly, fulfill my wish for an abundantly long life by making me float through outer space dying over and over.
What kind of sick joke is this? I was having a nice nap, and all of a sudden everything is exploding!
The world's greatest superhero somehow snapped and blew up the world!
Again, this is really extremely horrible and it just won't end.
Oh, cool, I just died again.
So wonderful.
Oh cool, there we are again!
Sitting up from my bed, I don't bother to do anything, because I know what's coming.
I rewound 5 minutes this time, not caring that I'd die soon.
I just wanted to try to figure out something!
Anything at all!
I look out the window to see a kneeling alexandria staring at the big golden idiot who keeps killing us all.
"You needed worthy opponents." He said, whatever the hell that means.
Following which eidolon the 2nd greatest hero fell to the ground in absolute despair.
Then hundreds of capes from all over were portaled in.
Then thousands.
Countless of them swarmed Sion and then everything exploded after a bright gold beam hit the surface of the planet.
The shockwave shredded me and I chose to wake up at the earliest possible time.
I'd train my ass off for 3 more days, and hopefully- even if that's impossible, I'd be strong enough to not die some day.
Maybe in a thousand years.
Being a slightly better than peak human in a world of goddamn hero-gods and villain demons is stupid and I want a better power.
The only reason that I'm still alive is that I can't freaking die permanently!
Die to a city destroying kaiju when it's sinking your home city?
Wake up hours before.
Try to warn anyone?
Get shoved into a cell and drown when no one believes you and it happens anyway!
Wake up in your home knowing your family is going to die again and wont fucking go anywhere because you're a 9 year old in kyushu in 2002?
Get shot?
Blown up?
Accidentally end up in an invisible sphere of invisible bomb-death?
Same damn thing!
This seriously isn't enough anymore!
My power of reviving at the best possible state anywhere within 3 days of when I died just isn't powerful enough!
I need power!
I want to live!
Okay what's that over there?
A glitch in the fabric of space seemed to occur and suddenly a book was floating in the air in front of me.
It smacked me in the head and it disappeared.
Knowledge flooded my mind and-.
—
I woke up on my bed 2 hours ago.
Did I just die from my brain absorbing a goddamn magical book from another far off dimension?
I really fucking did.
'Time-Space Divine Death Law?'
I tried to speak the name out loud, but it was like I tried to shatter a taboo that would erase me from existence- not just kill me.
I took a deep terrified breath, but when I calmed down, I shrugged.
I have to take advantage of what I can, so I dig into the knowledge newly imprinted in my mind.
The more I read, the more interest I had for it.
'I, Eternal Emperor, Heaven-Chaser Star-Devourer, Have reached the end of my journey. Though I feel there must be at least one realm above the Eternal Emperor realm above this one, I shall never reach it. I shall cast this manual between chaosworlds and hope it finds a worthy successor. This is one of 108 inheritances I shall throw to the eternal winds between realms. This can only be used by someone with at least initial understanding of the dao's of Death, Time, and space. One must restart their cultivation entirely to use this as well. Good luck, this is one of many cultivation techniques I wish I had when I had started.'
Many crazy ass diagrams and body positions as well as weird words in strange poems followed.
Okay, space magic.
Got it.
I guess I had to suspend my disbelief even further.
I followed along as best I could.
68 hours passed, and I still didn't feel chi.
—
I didn't go to sleep for a long time and eventually I died of sleep deprivation for the first time ever at the 70 hour mark, missing the explosion by just a couple of hours..
Wow, what an amazing milestone!
I scoffed and continued to try to use my only hope.
I did it! I sensed chi! Now draw it in like-
—-
I died? How did i die? What the fuck.
I drew in chi and- I got the sense that I did something wrong that time and my body bulged and-
—-
Okay, don't do it that way clearly.
—-
I tried multiple methods until one worked!
Why does in the palm of the asura mean pull it in through your fucking thumb?!
I continued to do this for about an hour and then-
—
I died again.
What did I do this time?
—
Three explosions later…
—
Okay so apparently my stomach is not my dantian.
I was turning my stomach into a bomb.
When I tried to break through my stomach just exploded and all the chi blew me to bits.
Okay, wow I actually saw that strange organ this time, but it's immaterial.
It's like my dantian is there and not.
Okay, this time I needed a lot less chi.
Okay. good, a bunch of gunk spewed out of my body then it evaporated and burned away.
Why the fuck do I hear thunder? We're in the middle of my apartme-
—
I died again.
But hey!
I was still at the start of stage 1 Houtian, level 1.
I can progress faster and- oh fuck, what's that rumbling?!
This time I glimpsed an electric discharge and died just as fast.
This repeated.
—-
I died, fried crispy 3 times.
I survived the furst bolt, only for the sky of what the fuck space to shoot another one at me.
—-
Again.
It kept zapping me.
—
Subjective hours of dying later, I could finally survive the 3rd bolt by further converting the evil lightning into more power.
I was nice and crispy, but still alive.
Then a portal opened and swallowed me whole.
—
The portal went on for a while.
I died mid-flight through my electrical burns.
I woke up again, I was in the sparkly rainbow colored corridor flying forward.
Thank god I was out of that eternal hellscape of death.
All of a sudden I was spat out.
I stumbled forwards into a guy in a tracksuit pointing at a child in front of a moving carriage that looked medieval.
He flew into the way of the carriage and was splattered.
"OH SHIT!" I shouted, as the carriage stopped.
A guard in medieval armor ran to the scene.
He rolled in front of the carriage and saved the kid.
I was frozen as a beautiful woman in an elegant red dress and blonde hair done up in a fancy style approached me with rage on her face.
"Listen I didn't mean to push the guy I-"
"HOW DARE YOU DIRTY MY CARRIAGE WITH PEASANT BLOOD!" She put her hand forward and shouted, "Fura!"
I died again to a whirlwind of green shining energy.
It was as if I was in a whirlwind of cutting blades.
I was spat out of the portal.
I hadn't even selected the time to return to this time!
It hadn't been an hour but I was here all the same.
I sighed and looked around.
No sign of the tracksuit guy, but I saw the same scene of the guard saving the child.
The carriage went on by, and I decided I needed info.
I saw a sign that said 'Tavern' in front of it.
The letters were weird but for some reason I knew they meant tavern.
"When in shitty fantasy rome. Do as the shitty fantasy romans do."
So then, Tereda Chouju began his journey. Not quite from zero, but it was pretty damn close.
—
The tavern's wooden doors creaked as I pushed them open, the smell of ale and roasted meat hitting me like a wall. It was dimly lit, with rough-hewn tables and benches filled with boisterous patrons. My pajama pants and t-shirt definitely stood out amongst the leather jerkins and roughspun garments.
Ignoring the stares that felt like hot pokers on my back, I shuffled towards a dimly lit corner table, hoping to disappear into the shadows.
The tavern buzzed with life, a cacophony of clinking mugs, raucous laughter, and conversations about topics I didn't quite understand.
Rough-looking men with weather-beaten faces and calloused hands nursed their drinks, while women with bright smiles and even brighter dresses flitted between tables, refilling mugs and exchanging banter.
As I settled onto the hard bench, snippets of conversations began to filter through the background noise.
"-was a curse, some say the Witch's Cult was involved." a gruff voice muttered, followed by a nervous chuckle.
"-is utter nonsense, just a bad illness, nothing more." another countered, but his voice lacked conviction.
"-royal selection, can you believe it? Five candidates, each one more ambitious than the last!" a woman with a shrill voice declared, drawing nods and murmurs of agreement from her companions.
Slowly, a picture began to form. The kingdom was in turmoil, the royal family wiped out by a mysterious illness, and now five contenders were vying for the vacant throne. Each name was accompanied by whispers of alliances, betrayals, and hidden agendas.
Emilia, the half-elf, too naive but seeking equality.
Priscilla Barielle, arrogant and ruthless, but with powerful backers
Crusch Karsten, a skilled military leader, but cold and calculating
Anastasia Hoshin, a cunning businesswoman with a mysterious past
Why were none of them talking about the fifth?
The names swirled in my head, each a piece of a puzzle. This royal was a powder keg ready to explode. Well, It seemed I, in my ridiculous pajamas, was caught right in the middle of a regime change.
After about thirty minutes, a burly barmaid with arms thicker than my thighs approached my table, her face like thunder. "You gonna order something, or just take up space?" she growled.
"Uh, actually..." I stammered, suddenly aware of the emptiness of my pockets. "Just enjoying the atmosphere."
Her lips curled into a sneer. "Atmosphere don't pay the bills. Out!"
With a rough shove, I was ejected back onto the cobblestone street. Great. No information, no money, and still wearing pajamas. I needed a change of clothes, and fast.
Spotting a clothesline strung between two buildings, I quickly scanned the surroundings before snatching a set of clothes. A fine tunic and trousers, much better than these damn pajamas. As I slipped them on, a voice boomed behind me.
"Thief! You dare steal from me?!"
Turning, I came face-to-face with a fuming nobleman, his hand gripping the hilt of a jeweled sword. Before I could even explain, the world dissolved into a whirlwind of pain as the blade sliced through me.
I had a moment to feel what it was like to have one's head in two parts-
—
Then, I was back.
Sprawled on the ground, staring at the passing carriage.
But something was different. I was no longer in pajamas. I was wearing the nobleman's fine clothes.
My resets weren't just resetting time for myself anymore, they were resetting me to my best possible state- including my clothing now.
that 'best possible state' thankfully included being pristine- no blood, no grime, no lingering evidence of my previous deaths.
Why was my power mutating though?
I shook my head, there were more important things to do now.
The carriage continued its journey, the blonde noblewoman's gaze sweeping over me without a flicker of recognition. This time, I wouldn't be caught off guard. This time, I wouldn't die.
This time, I wouldn't waste my opportunity. Knowledge was power, and I needed to learn everything I could about this world, this royal selection, and the forces at play.
First things first, I needed a plan. Also, information.
First, I needed money.
I frowned, time to piss off the crowd and get killed again.
Here I was hoping to survive more.
With a grimace, I grabbed the coin sack of a noble, and attached it to my hip. I ran, and grabbed another, I dumped the money into my pouch until it was full.
I noticed that my clothing had a bunch of straps inside my cloak and tunic for more money I grabbed. So I filled 6 pouches and then strapped them to the cloak and inside my tunic.
By then I was surrounded by guards who were shouting at me, swords drawn.
When I didn't obey and just grinned at them, one of them lunged forward.
He stabbed me through the heart.
Before I died, I held on to the sword as I pulled it out of my body.
My insane look and pulling out of the sword must have scared him.
I grabbed his sword and strapped it to the space on my belt it seemed to be meant for.
I grinned and then died, falling forward onto my face.
—
I was standing this time.
I had the sword of the guard I knocked out and my coin pouches were still here.
Success.
I went to the bar to listen more intensely.
I sat down at a more central table this life.
I waved to the bulky barmaid, "Get me some watered ale. Something fruity."
"Something fruity?" the barmaid echoed, her thick brows furrowing in suspicion. "We ain't got nothin' fancy like that here. normal ale, watered or nothin', take it or leave it."
"Watered ale it is then," I conceded, placing a few coins on the table with a flourish. Money talked, even in this rough establishment. "Perhaps some information, too, if you're willing to share."
Her eyes narrowed, assessing me. The fine clothes and the heavy coin pouch clearly sparked her interest. "Depends on the information you're after," she said cautiously.
"The royal selection," I stated, leaning forward. "Tell me about the candidates. Especially the fifth one. No one seems to be talking about them despite the castle announcing that they exist."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face.
"The fifth one?" the barmaid echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Ain't no fifth one yet, none'n heard a peep about it sides they exist n' havent ben found. Heard dat reinhard'n noble fellow be lookin' for one'er but nobody knows. just the four noble ladies vying for the crown so far. t' hat Emilia, that Priscilla, that Crusch, and that Hoshin woman. Everyone knows that."
"Is that so?" I replied, schooling my features into a neutral expression. Four candidates and a fifth to be found.
"Tell me more about these four then," I continued, taking another swig of the ale. "Their strengths, weaknesses, anything you've heard."
She frowned. "Nonnuf coin for weaknesses ever this werld. You wanna learnbout weaknesses listen but don't ask. Fuggen off with that suicidal askin'."
I nodded with a grimace. I asked for too much. I passed her a silver this time. "For forgetting I asked about weaknesses."
I then put out 10 more copper coins. "Hows about just what you've heard of the current candidates."
She nodded. "Aye, that it is. Got that Emilia, the half-elf, tryin' to make things fair for everyone. Then there's Priscilla, all high and mighty, thinks the crown belongs to her by right. Crusch, the general, she's all about order and discipline. And Anastasia, the sly one, always wheelin' and dealin'. Whole lot of power at play, that's for sure."
"Interesting," I murmured, taking another sip of the ale. "Seems like a complex situation."
"That it is," the barmaid agreed. "Best to keep your head down and stay out of trouble, that's what I say."
"Wise words," I replied, offering a small smile. And for once, I intended to heed them.
I left another silver and stood up.
I left the tavern and I tried to disappear into the crowd.
Bennetta the Barmaid POV
As the fancy fellow tried to shift into the crowd and fail, I cast a suspicious glance at his retreating back.
With a scowl, I leaned towards a group of shady-looking individuals huddled in a dark corner of the tavern, their faces hidden beneath hooded cloaks.
"That one," I muttered, pointing in the direction the fancypants had gone. "He was askin' 'bout the royal selection, and the fifth candidate. Paid good coin, too."
A low chuckle rippled through the group, followed by a voice like rustling dry leaves. "Interesting. Perhaps our little game is about to get more profitable."
—
Slipping out of the tavern, I merged with the flow of the marketplace, the press of bodies a welcome anonymity after the scrutiny of the barmaid's gaze.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on my back, a phantom itch between my shoulder blades.
Maybe it was just nerves. Dying repeatedly does tend to leave one a bit jumpy. Or maybe it was the ale, stronger than I was used to. Either way, I decided to put some distance between myself and the tavern. Just to be safe.
As I turned a corner into a quieter side street, a sudden tightness around my neck yanked me back.
A thin wire, nearly invisible against the rough stone wall, had caught me like a snare. Panic flared as my air supply was cut off, vision blurring, the world tilting sideways.
Then, nothing.
The tavern smells slammed into me again: roasted meat, stale ale, unwashed bodies.
The barmaid stood there, expectant, as if I'd never left. My hand was half-raised, about to signal her for another drink, when the pieces clicked into place.
The barmaid.
My questions about the royal selection.
Those hooded figures she'd been talking to.
It wasn't paranoia, it was a setup.
Anger simmered, but mostly I felt stupid.
Of course someone would see a well-dressed outsider asking too many questions as an easy mark.
Lesson painfully learned.
I lowered my hand, turning away without a word.
The barmaid's confused face faded behind me as I paid the barman and left.
I pushed back into the crowd.
Time to find a new watering hole, one with less treacherous staff.
And this time, I'd keep my mouth shut and my ears open.
The second tavern was smaller, dingier, and reeked of stale cabbage.
A definite downgrade, but that suited me just fine.
The fewer eyes on my fancy clothes, the better. I snagged a corner stool, nursing a mug of watery ale while trying to tune out the off-key singing from a group of drunkards.
Instead, I focused on the snippets of conversation swirling around me. This crowd wasn't as interested in the royal selection, which was a relief. Instead, they talked about more mundane things: crop prices, local gossip, and grumbling about taxes. Occasionally, though, a tidbit about the wider world would slip through.
"-heard things are tense in Gusteko," a merchant was saying, his voice low. "Gustekoan raiders causing trouble again and Kararagi's pissed."
"Kararagi's even closed its borders," another man added. "Something about a plague, or maybe demons, who knows with those westerners."
Interesting. It seemed this kingdom wasn't the only one facing troubles. Knowing the state of neighboring countries could be valuable information, especially if things went sideways here.
After a while, I shifted my focus, straining to catch any mention of swordsmanship schools. If I was going to survive in this world, I needed more than just information and resets. I needed skills.
"son's training at the academy in the capital," a woman was saying proudly. "Says he'll be a knight someday."
"Bah, knights are all show and no substance," scoffed a grizzled old man. "Real fighters learn on the streets, or from a proper mercenary guild."
That gave me a few leads. A knight academy, a mercenary guild.
I guess these were the places where I could hone my fighting skills and hopefully learn to use this fancy sword I'd acquired.
Finishing my ale, I tossed a few coins on the counter and headed back out into the streets.
It was time to start my training, and maybe, just maybe, turn this endless cycle of death and get the hell back up again into something more.
Looking down at the noble attire I was wearing, I chose to train at the knights academy.
I moved towards the knights training facility after asking where it was from a nearby guard.
I arrived and noticed The Royal Knights Academy was a sprawling complex of stone buildings and training grounds, bustling with activity.
Squires sparred with wooden swords, knights practiced mounted combat, and instructors barked orders with an air of authority.
Feeling like a child playing dress-up amongst seasoned warriors, I approached a group of knights, hoping to inquire about training.
"Excuse me," I began by bowing slightly like the nobles. "I am interested in learning swordsmanship. Would it be possible to receive instruction here?"
One of the knights, a burly man with a thick beard and a scar across his cheek, sized me up with a critical eye.
30 minutes of impressively terribly flailing later.
"Strength seems decent enough," he grunted, "but your form is atrocious. You barely even know how to hold that sword."
Embarrassment flushed through me as I fumbled with the hilt, acutely aware of my lack of skill.
"We offer private instruction," the knight continued, "but it'll cost you. 1 gold coin for an hour."
It was a steep price, but I had the money, and the need was dire.
"I accept," I said, handing over 8 coins.
The next few hours were a blur of grueling exercises, footwork drills, and basic sword techniques.
The knight instructor was merciless, correcting every mistake with a sharp bark and a swift rap on the knuckles.
By the end, I was sweating profusely, my muscles aching, but I had grasped the absolute basics of swordsmanship.
"Here," the instructor said, tossing me a scroll. "A technique for drawing in mana and strengthening the body. Practice it diligently."
I unfurled the scroll, my eyes scanning the unfamiliar symbols and diagrams.
As I deciphered the text, a sense of familiarity washed over me.
This technique, while crude and inefficient, bore a striking resemblance to the initial stages of the Time-Space Divine Death Law.
I pondered for a moment.
Could I use these two techniques at the same time?
I tried to add the mana rotation to the mix, and then I felt agony and-
—-
I found myself sprawled on the ground once more, the familiar scene of the carriage incident playing out before me.
Confusion washed over me.
But then I got the sense that I did something like shoving a bottle of oil on top of a lit fire.
In my freaking soul.
I shook my head and turned towards the street.
My money was back, the eight gold coins I'd spent on training returned to my pouch.
The knowledge I had gained, the basics of the basics of swordsmanship and the flawed mana technique, remained etched in my memory, although the latter would be useless for me no matter the quality.
This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.
No doing stupid shit like that.
—-
The knight instructor had mentioned my sword was shoddily made while he was training me, so I
would start by acquiring a proper weapon and some decent armor.
With the straps and pockets of my noble attire conveniently refilled with coin pouches, I had the means to equip myself properly.
I moved towards the shop I overheard one of the trainees say had the best weapons and armor.
I would take that with a grain of salt, even if the instructor he was in front of seemed to agree.
10 minutes later, I stood in front of a shop.
In the back a strong looking man who looked no older than 30 was hammering at a nearly finished looking chestplate.
Being polite, I waited for him to reach a breaking point and for him to look up at me.
"Aye, What'n can I do for yeh."
His accent was thick, but I could make it out.
"I was looking for some tough but light armor with the same amount of straps or more than I have here. I could also use a sword that won't give out on me the moment I try to fight with it."
The man nodded. "That'n I kahn do. Dun' yhe worry. I kahn get eht dun en bout en owwer."
I nodded, "An hour can be fine. How much would the leather set and the sword be?"
He nodded, "about'n 16 golde.'"
I nodded, "I'll stand and watch as you make them."
I poured out 16 gold and showed it to him.
"You'll get the full amount when it's done."
He nods, "Spousse I shulde' geet tew wurk."
He moved the finished chest-plate aside, and then pulled out some really tough looking leather from a hide I didn't know about.
He placed it on the table, made strange gestures. He muttered something about spirits and then spoke up as his sewing hand glowed.
He spoke up. "What'n kenda 'chantments ye went?"
I grinned, "Surprise me. I got another 16 for the enchanting budget." That would leave me with 10 left after I would have him enchant the armor and sword.
That would be enough for more training and then 2 gold for me to die with. assuming I didn't refill it even further with inadvisable actions.
An hour passed and it was 11:10.
He began to explain the enchantments.
On the armor.
He pointed to the red leather upper suit that looked like it wrapped around my whole upper body. "Dis wun her is the encrase storedge fore them people who wann carry lot eh crap wit em. Comes witt da standard increased protectinsto deh elemints ann magic en decress weight ferr all yerself. Whol boddei."
I nodded, a storage with magical protections and damage resistance. Decreased weight too. Nice.
"How large is the space?"
He replied with a smirk. "Bout' eh room wit' 10 mett'ers ech derectin."
I nodded, as I passed him the 32 gold for the set and the sword and he gave me.
"Yew evvar wunna get da armur better, go tew ay magic shawp foe 'chantments. Be se'en yew."
The pants gave additional magic protection and defense with two pockets that linked to my storage.
The hood gave the same protections as the rest but increased the speed of knowledge gained and reading speed.
The gloves were linked to the circlet and hood which made my hands quick, and such things relating to the hands easier to learn and bonus protections.
The boots, finally, gave a bonus to learning how to move in battle as well as footwork learning speed.
The sword was just extremely durable to the point where it could cut through normal steel like butter with enough force applied.
"How did you know I needed a learning boost?" I asked, wanting to know the answer.
"Ye hold ye sword lik'n yor holden' et to lern. Lik'n ye just sturt'd lern'n"
Right. So I'm holding it like an amateur who barely trained at all. Got it.
I nodded, and handed him 2 gold for a tip.
I had 8 gold for training- but maybe going to the library to learn stuff wouldn't hurt.
6:30 PM Lugunica Library.
I spent hours in the library and had to pay 50 silver for an hour.
This world's fantasy novels sucked.
I learned a lot about mana and magic, though, not enough to use it.
I reached for a book on world history, which is really what I should have started with.
Then a Shockwave of freezing energy passed through the library.
All the nobles around me looked around for a moment, started shivering for about 30 seconds and then went pale and died of the cold.
It was getting colder by the second.
I decided to grab all the books on history and put it in my storage.
The armor's cold protection failed and I died, just as I had placed three books on potion making into my storage.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone