MTL - I Have Countless Swords - Chapter 117 1 Battle of the Gods

“I don't want to die anymore, so I'll aim to be the strongest――!”After being stabbed by a random attacker, he was reincarnated in Japan, a place where 'demons' like yokai and monsters exist――and moreover, he was born into a family of 'exorcists' who exorcise these monsters!Exorcism is an important job that involves killing monsters, but it is also a dangerous job where people can die.Therefore, he――Itsuki, made a decision.In order to never die again, he would become strong.He aimed to be the strongest and practiced magic tirelessly since he was a baby――until he realized.“Huh? Isn't this too much?”This is the story of an exorcist who, despite being an ordinary person, became the strongest without realizing it due to excessive effort.

“Haunted by the Curse's relentless pursuit, one seeks solace in the arms of darkness...”-- -- --Hael Winterlock, the youngest and most beloved prince of the Winterlock dynasty, lived the typical luxurious prince life within the dynasty, with the thought of being just an ordinary rich royal member in the future.But when he awakened the never-before-seen Nine Magical Arcana Runes petals, the law of the Kingdom automatically dictates him as the next ruler of the throne, something that goes against his predetermined fate.And from thereon, life came crashing down for Hael, who had his father killed by his throne-obsessed brothers, and then he himself burnt to coal and flung into the icy depths to drown to death.Just when life seemed over, Hael found a portal and a moon fragment, a rumored source of controllable power at the depth of the sea, and the moon fragment fused with him as he disappeared into the strange portal.There was a new advanced world, a world where an ongoing war between humans who grew with cybernetic fusions, and the Eldritches, creatures of dark magic, raged on.Once more, he was given a chance to change things, a new chance at life.One day, he swore to return to back to Winterfall Dynasty to take what was rightfully his. But only if his dreams could be reality. The Forgotten Realms had another name:The Abyssal Realm of Ruins, a Place of No Return!

Nine harmonic zither chords shook the universe, who dared to not acknowledge the lord?

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.