Why Am I a Priestess When I Transmigrated at Max Level?

In conclusion, it's a good book, but I suggest reading the United Kingdom section first and then not buying the subsequent chapters in bulk. Read a little bit first to test the waters before deciding whether to buy more. Overall rating: Volumes 1-3 9/10, Volumes 4-6 5.5/10, Volumes 7-8 7/10. A special note: The author's basic Chinese language and literature skills are relatively weak, frequently resulting in typos, obvious grammatical errors or awkward sentence structure, incorrect use of idioms, and noticeable overuse of descriptive vocabulary (a lack of vocabulary). There's also a clear elementary school addition and subtraction error within 100, such as 62+27+1=100 in Chapter 215 of Volume 5. This book gave me a very...

To get straight to the point, this book feels like it's written something I've wanted to read for years. The "pretentious" novel genre is an old thing, a relic of a bygone era. The era of the Dragon King's crooked mouth is over, and even in my own fantasies, I feel that invincible stories are sometimes illogical. Compared to other invincible novels, Qingjiu's, while criticized for "constantly emphasizing your divinity," actually reflects a coldness in people's hearts these days. Seeing someone fall, the first thought is whether they'll be extorted; seeing injustice, the first thing to do is run. From a purely idealistic perspective, isn't divinity just an excuse for people to be "capable," to be outspoken, or to be cold-blooded? But in this book, it's not. The divinity here...

What I'm about to say might be a bit harsh. I've read up to volume seven, over 100 chapters so far, and the writing is still very good—definitely worth reading among invincible protagonist stories. However, lately I've gradually lost the feeling I had when reading volumes one through five… How to put it… volumes one through five feature an ordinary person reincarnated into another world, embarking on an adventure in their idealized female body. But from the end of chapter six to the beginning of chapter seven, the protagonist seems to no longer be a reincarnated being from reality, but rather a fox god named Xi. The protagonist's self-perception also changes from that of a real-world transmigrator to this…

For those considering reading this book, understanding its true purpose is crucial. In my opinion, it's essentially an ensemble piece told from the protagonist's perspective. While many may be drawn in by the synopsis and the invincible label, the priestess is actually quite different from traditional invincible characters. As the power ceiling, ensuring her invincible presence, many stories aren't about the protagonist showing off. As frequently criticized in the comments section, many things could have been accomplished simply by the protagonist himself...

I'm currently reading Volume 5, *Divine Hymns*, and this is a reflection. I think this volume's description of faith is very valuable, vividly depicting how different characters view faith: 1. Primitive worship (nature worship). For example, worshipping the shooting stars leaping from the water. This primitive worship wasn't limited to animals; it extended to humans, even giving rise to rituals: using the number of shooting stars as a criterion for selecting saintesses. This transformed the shooting stars' primitive worship of light from fish to humans' primitive worship of light. 2. Personality cult. For example, the dragon girl calls Vilis "master," and no amount of persuasion can change that. This was very common in ancient times...

The author, like a writer navigating a grand narrative labyrinth, attempts to weave countless foreshadowing elements between the lines, constructing an intricate suspense tower. He seems to be constantly filling this tower with information, as if trying to tell the reader a great deal, thus transforming information into riddles within the text. However, a seemingly insurmountable chasm exists between this beautiful vision and reality. The foreshadowing he creates is like unpolished jade, gleaming with potential, but lacking skillful connection and logical development, it rises and falls abruptly in the story's flow, failing to integrate seamlessly with the main plot...

I'm a bit tired today, I'll take a short rest.

The novel is riddled with riddles, and sometimes the answer could be cleared in a single sentence, but the author deliberately delays revealing it. There's a sense that the author is using the protagonist to create an information gap with the reader. Some foreshadowing isn't cleverly placed, but rather feels slightly contrived. When the story ends and the foreshadowing is resolved, there's no sense of sudden realization, but rather a bland feeling of, "Oh, so that foreshadowing was resolved." The novel is as bland as mineral water—no major flaws, but no particularly outstanding moments either. However, this blandness is actually a strength, since being error-free is a virtue. Oh, and some chapters are quite filler, which is a bit annoying.

Oh, Qingsa's water, the sweetest brew cherished by readers; oh, Qingsa's pen, the bittersweet bridge for book lovers. Oh, the master of procrastination, our daily routine of saying one thing but doing another; oh, the vast ocean of droning, the stubborn insistence on urging for updates. Oh, the stream of delayed updates, Calvin's sweet-and-salty secret recipe; oh, the sweet dew of fragments, the power of self-indulgent drinking with sugar mixed with razor blades. (The book review isn't long enough, so I'm adding filler: Miss Mousse's holy light can heal Calvin, but it can't cure Qingsa's procrastination addiction. Following the daily updates is like waiting for the destructive mode CD—before reading, I curse the procrastinator; after reading, I complain there's too much filler.)

Sorry for the slight lag today, I'll update again before tomorrow morning.