Devil's Music - Chapter 389: Small Connection

“Drive this woman out!” "Throw this woman into the sea!” When he doesn’t know Debbie Nian’s true identity, Carlos Huo cold-shoulders her. “Mr. Huo, she is your wife,” Carlos’ secretary reminded him. Hearing that, Carlos gives him a cold stare and complained, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” From then on, Carlos spoils her rotten. Little did everyone expect that they would get a divorce.

#Rated 18-Mature ThemesViolet’s life was never her own—her father’s crushing debt made sure of that. But when the debt collector kidnaps her as payment, she takes a desperate deal: become a servant and spy on the mysterious and tyrannical Lord Cain, the ruler of her Werewolf district.There’s just one catch: Lord Cain only permits male servants in his house.Disguised as a boy, Violet cuts her hair, flattens her chest, and dons a voice-altering band to pull off the deception. Everything goes according to plan—until Cain, a man known for his cold personality starts to take a peculiar interest in her.Violet’s disguise becomes a prison as she battles her own growing attraction to him. But this is no love story. Cain’s obsession to her is dangerous. Beneath his icy gaze lies a mind fractured by years of affliction by a curse.A curse made by Violet's biological mother: A powerful witch.*************“TAKE IT OFF!”Violet’s knees nearly buckled at the thunderous command, her chest tightening with panic. The raw anger in Cain’s voice was as sharp as a blade.“My lord! I-I’m a man!” she stammered, gripping her shirt tightly, her fingers trembling as they clung to the fabric.“I don't like other men!” she cried, a desperate plea in her voice since the second she took her shirt off and he discovered that she was a woman was the moment she died. Painfully.Cain’s glare was unyielding, his voice dropping into a growl. “Don’t insult me, You think I do. You kissed me!”Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “If you don’t take it off,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, “I’ll rip it off myself.”Violet’s mind raced, panic threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn’t let him find out—he’d kill her. Painfully.Glancing away to avoid his gaze when she caught the undeniable bulge in his trousers. Heat flushed her face, her thoughts spinning in desperation at the only idea she could think of to make him back off.'This has to work. It has to!'

But things seem to be different from the history that he knows.In this strange land, ancient legends walk the earth. Here Witches, Manticores, Vampires, Werewolves, Sirens, Dragons and Krakens are all terrifyingly real.As if that weren’t enough, this is also the age of legendary rulers—Baldwin, Saladin, and Richard the Lionheart —each destined to shape history in a new wave of Crusades.Amidst bloodshed and glory, Lothar must use his only advantage—his Gacha System—to build his territory, summon legendary units, and carve out his legacy in a world where ambition reigns and power speaks.

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]