MTL - To Four Thousand Years Later - v6 Chapter 9 antique

A major event happened recently to the demonic sect – their powerful sect master suddenly went missing.

Everyone comforted each other: “Don’t worry, the sect master must be out pursuing fun, and so on.”

“Well, that makes sense.”

They waited.

Waited and waited.

Waited and waited.

Waited and… Everyone slammed the table: “We’ve waited so long! The sect master must have met with a mishap! Look for him!!” Numerous disciples therefore ran rumbling down the mountain.

On a certain day of the month, a certain sect master opened his eyes and thought in confusion: Hey, who am I?

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world where power defines worth and survival is a privilege earned through strength, Ronan was just another broken soul—bullied, beaten, and forgotten.Until he snapped.[System Activated][You have acquired an S-Class Ability: Starflame][Extreme rage and deep-seated hatred detected][You have obtained the unique skill: Devil’s Covenant]Once a victim, Ronan begins to rise—with a system by his side that grants him power through every action.When he cooks:[Skill Acquired: Home Cook]When he reads:[Skill Acquired: Speed Reading]When he fights:[Skill Acquired: Vital Strike]And these skills?They evolve.[Skill Devil's Covenant has upgraded into Devil's Divine Judgement][Skill Speed Reading has upgraded into Hyper Comprehension][Skill Energy Slash has upgraded into Demonic Slash]Every moment, every breath, every choice brings him closer to power.A hero, or a villain?He stands among them.

Fifty years ago, the world changed forever when Earth was mysteriously connected to the Primordial World, a reality that operates like a game.This world can only be entered by Awakeners—people who have awakened with special powers. However, out of fifteen billion humans, only one million have this privilege.Enzo, a poor young man with no connection to the Primordial World, should have had no chance of becoming an Awakener.However, against all odds, he awakens... and more than that, he gains an innate skill unheard of before—the ability to make skills with only his imagination.In a world where power determines everything, how will a nameless young man carve his own path?

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.