I, the Weakest Traveler, Start by Taming the gods of the Old World. - Chapter 69: Please, touch me~

The figure of the Armada seems to be still riding the wind and waves in the Atlantic Ocean, and the gold of South America still seems to flow in continuously. As Alfonso from the Bourbon family returns to the Royal Palace of Madrid where he was born, the story begins here…

- Description from novelbuddy

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”

This is the story of a person who transmigrated into a world with a radically different worldview.

And so Arascus, God of Pride, waited. He waited for his defeat as the forces of Heaven & Hell combined descended upon him. He waited as they tried to kill him. He waited as they locked him away. He waited for a thousand years in that dark prison.