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... is the ring. The tighter you go over it, the more efficient your movements are. Let your hands cover the rest of the length, and move them up and down, following the rhythm of your mouth."

Taking his advice, she moved abit lower, using her both hands to cover the rest of his length, even though her palms couldn’t go around it completely.

Tightening her lips, she moved just like he told her to, causing him to groan in pleasure, his abdomen tightening, his stuff toes curling as he ...

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Lilian laid on his deathbed, his life nearing its end.Surrounded by the cold quiet of a hospital room, he had spent his last months immersed in novels on his phone.One novel, in particular, had captured his heart, and he yearned to finish it before succumbing to his incurable disease.But as the end drew near, he realized he couldn't access the final volume.Helplessly, he regretted the opportunities he had missed in life.And death had finally come knocking.“If only there were another world... that could offer me a second chance,” He whispered.“If only I could live a second life... in a time when I had listened.”

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“Why can you touch girls without being struck by lightning!” the traverser A roared.

“I am special…”

“Why can you bring the girl home!” The traverser B roared unwillingly.

“This is a special treatment…”

“Why do we want to draw a knife and chop you as soon as we see you!?” Many traversers.

“I am your enemy…”

This book is the story of the protagonist leading a group of girls to fight with the traversers…

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Stolen by the Rebel KingChapter 578: Epilogue
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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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“I don’t have a brother like you, or a family. Get lost!”