[Warning! Slice of Life at Core!]

"Are you trying to tell me that the man who made the entire Northern continent tremble works in a flimsy bar? And he's a Water Mage???" The Emperor asked his knight.

"Yes, sir. I saw him with my own eyes. He has two pet dragons and—"

"Good gods! The legendary dragons that historically disdain humans as his pets?! We must have this man as our own at all cost!" The Emperor screamed in amusement, "Say, when you approached this man to speak with him, what was his reaction?"

The knight gulped.

"He... offered my men and I drinks, and told us to tell you, the Emperor, to visit his bar sometime."

The Emperor's eyes widened, and narrowed back as he smiled. "Well, I just might."

______

Maxwell Duvon Belognia was once a reject, kicked out of his noble house for his lack of talent.

His noble family was one that had produced reputable flame mages for ages, and Maxwell, who had an affinity to the water element, was a good-for-nothing.

Disowned by his family, he ventured out into the world to build his own solid ground, and discovered that his talent in the path of water was much more than his family had ever imagined.

Along his journey, he made friends that he loved more than his own blood, allies that could give their lives up just for his sake, and the best of all — he fell in love with a woman who gave him her heart and her soul.

Until an unfortunate, world ending disaster struck on his world, ending everything dear to Maxwell in just a few seconds, including the love of his life.

Luckily — or unluckily — Maxwell and his friend barely survived, thrust into a different, ruthless world where they had to grow stronger and struggle to survive.

Years later, they became transcendent beings who ventured into the vast cosmos where they still fought to claim a place.

They became gods.

During all his years of constant struggling, fighting and ascending, Maxwell never forgot the love he lost. 

Regret ate at him. If only he was strong as he was now that he steadily approached the end of his being.

Just when he thought his soul would fade away without ever seeing his love again... 

"Why don't we break one of the ten absolute rules proffered by the Celestial King?" His friend suggested.

Maxwell's eyes widened.

"What rule?"

"Regression."

And so, after fighting to go against the will of fate and the heavens themselves, Maxwell's soul finally regressed with eons worth of knowledge to the time when he was just a mortal, kicked out of his noble house.

The best part?

All his divine authorities as a god — although weakened — were still linked to his soul, including his pocket dimension which held his treasures.

And because of this, to the eyes of everyone in his world, Maxwell was a ridiculously overpowered being.

As news of this enigmatic, overpowered water mage spread amongst the four continents of the world Cryst, every monarch and every major power desired him for themselves.

But the man in question?

"I've lived a life full of suffering, battles and wars. Now, with this second chance, I just want to live a calm life. To do that, I'll have to stop the world-ending disaster coming in a few years. But for now..." He opened the door to his bar, smiling as he gazed at his customers which consisted of legendary mages, legendary mercenaries, divine healers, knights and the rest, all waiting to recruit him. Finally, his warm gaze rested on his wife, waiting for him behind the counter. "This is enough."

______________________

Ahem–!

50 powerstones = 1 extra chapters
‎100 powerstones = 2 extra chapters 
‎50 Golden tickets = 5 extra chapters 
‎A castle = 10 extra chapters

Heartbeat thundered in Maxwell's chest, his every breath growing more uneven.


Here he was, standing in the fields of that serene garden, with the winds of night blowing against his skin. The dark skies were painted with luminous twinklings, illuminating the figure of Maxwell as he held Rita in his embrace, dancing without a care in the world.


Maxwell had a bright smile on his lips, and Rita's beautiful smile echoed his own. They intertwined in the garden with pristine movements.


And then… they stopped, and Rita remained in his arms.


The man's blue eyes, warm and tender, bore into the lady's silver, glistening with curiosity, affection and satisfaction.


His heart kept beating, blood rushing through his veins.


He leaned closer to her, burying her in his embrace.


Maxwell kept looking into her eyes, searching for a trace of consent.


Rita chuckled, and then, she whispered:


Chapter 61 - The Morning