Inside his fiefdom, Chen Lin opened his eyes.
"Master, are you all right?"
Grass cried out in surprise.
From her perspective, Chen Lin's soul had withdrawn almost the instant it entered the Soul Hive, so she thought something had gone wrong.
"I'm fine. The reincarnation has already ended."
A weathered look flashed through Chen Lin's eyes.
In this reincarnation world, he had lived as a mortal, and breathed his last in his forties.
Although it had been only forty short years, his experiences had been extraordinarily rich.
Fleeing calamity, wandering homeless, losing both parents-his entire path had been strewn with thorns.
At just thirteen, he had become the leader of a rebel army, quelling unrest within and waging war without, displaying formidable personal charisma.
In the end, he had overthrown the corrupt regime and founded a new dynasty.
Yet on the very day of his coronation, a streak of sword light had descended from the heavens and pinned him straight to the dragon throne!
He had no idea where that sword light came from. It contained bizarre energy that prevented him from remaining in soul form after awakening this time, and he was expelled on the spot.
Chen Lin even felt that, had his soul not been sufficiently unique, that single strike could have scattered his soul instantly, leaving him no chance to regain consciousness.
Without regaining his sense of self, he would have sunk into oblivion completely.
Thus, using this Soul Hive still carried a certain degree of risk.
But the benefits were great enough as well.
Chen Lin felt the advantages outweighed the disadvantages, making it worth the risk.
This kind of reincarnation through rebirth was a genuine personal experience. Everything took root deep in his heart, never to be forgotten.
Love and hatred, affection and enmity, birth