Enchantress Amongst Alchemists Ghost King's Wife - Chapter 1170 - Entering The Tomb! Danger! Part 2

Cairn is a prince who is already tired of ruling. Faced with an imminent coronation and an overbearing father, he wants nothing more than to drown his responsibilities in cheap liquor and poor decisions. With the help of his sister, he hatches a plan to escape the clutches of the throne once and for all. It all goes terribly wrong, and Cairn finds his priorities shifting in the face of unimaginable tragedy. The change of heart comes too late, however, and Cairn dies. He reawakens to find himself transported ten years in the past. He immediately begins to plan for the future, only to discover his killer has somehow followed him. To succeed, Cairn must unite the kingdom and discover the motivation of his killer, using as many tries as it takes. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I exhausted pretty much every time loop story ever written and decided to write my own. You'll see a few similarities here between this story and some existing stories, at least initially. There's a lot of inspiration drawn from both MoL and Re:Zero, though in terms of pathos and darkness, this story leans more towards the latter. Be warned, it is something of a slow burn. The main character will grow and become powerful, but a theme of this story is that power comes slowly and often at great cost.

Eira Hax, the daughter of a once-wealthy heiress, has spent her entire life in the shadows.Twenty-two years ago, her mother, a kind-hearted but naive woman, was deceived by her husband, a ruthless businessman. He stole her entire fortune and framed her for a crime, sending her to prison, unaware that she was pregnant and secretly battling terminal cancer.Eira’s mother died alone behind bars, but not before giving birth to Eira, entrusting her with a burning desire for revenge.Now, two decades later, Eira returns with one goal: to destroy the man who ruined her mother’s life—her own father.To do so, she strategically marries his most powerful rival, Callian Reed, a man as dangerous as he is influential. Together, they plot to destroy her father’s empire, piece by piece.But as Eira is pulled deeper into a world of business, power and revenge, she’s forced to confront her own problems and decide just how far she’s willing to go to avenge her mother.“I’m not your enemy, darling…you should know that by now.”“Callian, everything you do is not written in our contract. Why are you breaking it?”“The more I learn about you, the more I hate everyone who hurt you. So please, Eira, let me get rid of them for you.”

Genius Neurosurgeon Lǐ Xīnyuàn died while being held at the gunpoint to perform a surgery on a terrorist leader.When he opened his eyes, he had transmigrated into a world similar to a Webnovel he'd been forced to read by a colleague.Now you'd think Lǐ Xīnyuàn had transmigrated into that Webnovel. But did he?No! Instead he'd been transmigrated into that webnovel's spin-off/“what-if” version of the story with nothing but the superficial knowledge of the plot thanks to reading the main novel.Now tasked with the mission of avoiding plotholes, unnecessary dog-blood, death and following the storyline to ensure the male lead's ascension to the throne of Supreme Emperor, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.And why did no one tell him that his character had to be married into the Male Lead's harem??What about the Female Lead?Later:Lǐ Xīnyuàn: Why doesn't Your Highness spend the night with concubine Yang?ML: Don't want to.Lǐ Xīnyuàn: ... Why?ML: Are you pushing me away?Lǐ Xīnyuàn: QAQ

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.