Flash Marriage With Mr. Sheffield: Go Away, Cheap Man! - Chapter 170: Just How Wild Is Her Play?

In the age of Universal Awakening on the Azure Sphere, a myriad of races and gods coexist.

Devils, dark gods, and monsters descend upon the mortal realm, only to be met by the Awakened.

Howard, during his Awakening Ritual, discovers dual talents— F-rank Mana Recovery, and the supreme talent: Supreme Synthesis.

He keeps a low profile, hiding as a 'common magus.'

Through countless acts of synthesis, he forges supreme artifacts, supreme skills, and supreme classes!

Fireball synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining D-rank skill— Fire Serpent!

Fire Serpent synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining B-rank skill— Fire Python!

Fire Python synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining S-rank skill— Dragonfire!

When devils invade and dark gods descend, they are left slack-jawed by the Azure Sphere before them.

“No, this is a trap... a trap disguised as a mere cupcake!”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

#### WARNING ####THIS NOVEL CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND SEX SCENES, EXTREME VIEWS, AND A VILLAIN MAIN CHARACTER.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The pacing is slower than typical and is heavy on the psychology and ideology. Reader discretion is advised############“St. Ignatius Academy is no safe haven for degenerate trash! This material proves that you are a danger to women and girls around you! Out of my sight! You are expelled! You shall never defile our hallowed halls with your disgusting presence again!”--SLAP--“You are no son of mine! I wish I had aborted you! How dare you write such horrible things!”With those words, Aaron Zakhrov was thrown out with nothing but his brains and a thirst for never being weak or trusting again.Bit by bit, he built his new kingdom, where his word was law, and where he controlled everything: his friends, his enemies, his lovers and most of all, his destiny.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

The world ended.Zombies and monsters rose. Cities crumbled.And Merek? He woke up in the apocalypse with a job that lets him create armor for lingering souls—spirits without bodies, desperate for purpose.Turns out, the dead don’t rest easy. Some are angry. Some vengeful. Others? Just lost. When Merek binds them into steel warframes, they don’t just fight... they evolve.Now, he leads a legion of the undead—ghosts in armor, bound to him by oath and fate.Faction leaders call him mad. Warlords want him dead. And God? If He’s watching, He’s not talking.Merek was supposed to die with everyone else.Instead, he got a support type job no one’s heard of... and a shot at rewriting his pathetic Earth-life.In this world, only the fittest survive.And Merek? He’s got undeads in steel at his side.