I WAS The Rank–1 Hero - Chapter 82: Our Turn [1]

Listen here, because I've seen it with my very own eyes.William Oh was born on the hundredth floor of The Tower, to the greatest Climbers of the ancient world, steeped in the Tower's lethal miasma from the moment he drew breath, giving him strange and unnatural powers.They say he is an immortal being who circles the dreams of mortal men, resurfacing wherever the need is greatest. Those who disparage him will fall into despair, but if you're a Climber in a tight scrape, look to the sky and say a little prayer.Maybe he will appear?Odds are probably better if you pay for my drink.- Rumor overheard on a 1st Floor Tavern. Originator did not pay his tab.

A master of Chakra Cultivation sacrifices everything - only to be reborn with a second chance.After giving his life to save his world, Alaric awakens in the body of a child. In this new realm where power is measured in tiers, bloodlines, and the strength of one's oaths, Chakra Cultivation is an unknown path.As Alaric purifies his chakras, each one unlocking profound abilities across body, mind, and soul, he gains an edge no native warrior can match. But his true test awaits in the Tower of Trials—a rite of passage for the world's young elites, offering immense rewards to those who can climb its treacherous heights. No one has ever reached its highest levels.If mastering his reborn powers wasn't hard enough, his journey will forge a bond with an entity of unimaginable strength - and lead him to lands where no mortal has dared to tread.

“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.”

- Description from Novelupdates

The year 1847