Naked Sword Art - Chapter 326: Song’s Direct Disciple

CONTENT WARNING:/This novel contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised./---She ran from the devil who raised her…And married the one who wore a crown.After her parents’ tragic death, Lydia Andreyevna’s life became a nightmare. Stripped of her name, inheritance, and freedom by her uncle—Lord Alexander—she was treated like property and promised to a Count four times her age.Desperate to escape, she fled into the cold night… and straight into blood.A stranger. Wounded. Beautiful. Terrifying.She should’ve left him.But she didn’t.She touched him once—and fate branded her forever.Her uncle caught her the next morning. Her escape failed. But when she begged Queen Olga for protection, the Queen offered her a deadly bargain:Marry the masked Grand Duke of Zolotaria.The king’s hunting dog. The butcher of the East. The devil in a crown.The man feared by kings.The heir to the throne.The same man she once saved.Ivan Romanov.They say he bathes in blood. That he kills without blinking. That he conquered kingdoms with a smile behind a mask. That no one sees his face—and lives.Some call him the devil. Others call him Death’s favorite son.But behind the mask is the same man she found dying in the dark.The same voice that haunted her dreams.The same hands she once held.Now, he’s her husband.Her jailer.Her obsession.She doesn’t know if she’s his prisoner, or his weakness.Cold and untouchable, Ivan doesn’t share his bed. Doesn’t share his secrets. But she sees it—the hunger in his eyes. The pain in his silence. The way he looks at her like she’s the only thing keeping his demons at bay.She should fear him.She should hate him.But the moment she dares to take off his mask… it’s already too late.Because Ivan wants her—her fire, her body, her heart.And in his world, what he wants, he keeps.Even if it means burning down the kingdom.She thought she was running from hell.She ended up in his bed.And the most dangerous thing of all?She doesn’t want to leave.

[ Beep!! Beep!! ]Zakar stared at a hologram before him. His iris widened at the sight of it.'I thought I had died. Why the hell am I still alive? Where fuck am I? Is this heaven or hell? Where are the flames that scorch? I know I couldn't have made heaven with all the souls I had killed. It all doesn't make any sense.'[ You have Awakened the Death Tier System. ]Death? How? Would he become a serial killer? No. He didn't want to soil his hands again. To think of killing again began to make him feel sour.Follow Zakar on his journey into greatness or should we say balance his overpowered nature. Whichever way, this MC is gonna be a real shocker. Add to your collection.

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”

Childhood, upbringing, family background, social relations, traumatic experiences…

We keep reviewing and seeking out the motives of criminals, exploring the subtlest emotions driving them. It’s not to put ourselves in their shoes and sympathize, or even forgive them; it’s not to find some reasons to exculpate their crimes; it’s not to kneel down before the so-called “complexity of human nature”; nor to introspect social conflicts, much less to alienate ourselves into monsters.

We just want to have a fair trial – for ourselves and for those who still have hope for the world.

A seme thug specialized in dealing with various kinds of disobedience vs. a cowardly and dissolute uke descended from a rich family

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