I was your average low tier adventurer, helping villagers, doing low tier quests, killing goblins, exterminating rats. Then I died by a bunch of goblins. Did I mention that I had a special trait from being a outworlder? it makes it so no magical/spiritual power can affect my soul, that also includes reincarnation since it affects the soul. Now you see here's where things get weird, I am now the descendent of an artificial creature made by combining a rat and a lizard, More commonly known as a lizrat... (This is my first time making a novel so please go easy on me :p)