Peerless Martial God - Chapter 2261: Leaving the Territory

The Bulwark Duke’s residence had fallen. On the day of the duke’s son’s wedding, all men in the family were imprisoned. In just three days, the patriarch and duke died. What was originally a joyful occasion became a depressing funeral.Shen Yijia had transmigrated as the unfortunate bride. By the time her husband was sent back home to her, he was crippled and heavily injured. Everyone said that this fallen family would never recover. Shen Yijia possessed a spirit liquid that helped her bring her husband back from the brink of death. When Song Jingchen woke up, he advised her to marry someone else instead. Shen Yijia stared at his handsome face and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you.”On the way back to their hometown, they encountered bandits and even suicide warriors who tried to assassinate them at all costs. Shen Yijia patted her chest and vowed to her beautiful husband, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” However, nosy people kept nagging at her, saying that a wife should be knowledgeable, reasonable, and virtuous. Was she supposed to help her husband pick out a concubine too? Shen Yijia was annoyed. As a modern woman, she couldn’t possibly get her husband a concubine! Her husband belonged to her alone!For the sake of earning money, she hunted in the mountains, battled scum, and took in disciples. Eventually, Shen Yijia’s life became smooth sailing.Many years later, they returned to the capital. Everyone assumed that Song Jingchen disliked having such a violent wife, and would soon divorce her to remarry. The young noblewomen rubbed their hands together in glee, waiting for Shen Yijia to leave so they could take her place. But as they waited and waited, they saw the Song Jingchen gently hold Shen Yijia’s hands right after the latter had beaten someone up. Song Jingchen asked worriedly, “Does it hurt?” [1v1 sweet love. A doting yet violent female lead vs a jealous two-faced male lead]

Three years ago, the sky split open to let in toxic blue and black mist that swallowed the world. Now, inside the last city standing, surviving meant obeying the brutal laws and ranking, or becoming the monsters outside.Maeve Lester, spent the last three years on her knees, as a rankless slave in the city of Kargahart, until she finally became an omega, approved to serve the elite with whispered promises of freedom. She was ready to start her life at the Parthenn dome, until she met him.Valden Malawitt.Her first love and the man who shattered her heart three years ago. And who doesn't even remember her anymore.But Valden wasn't the only one watching her closely. And not the one she ends up being chained to unwillingly.When secrets of the mist are revealed and Maeve discovers more about herself and her wolf, she's torn between the need to hunt, to destroy or to succumb to her desires.

“In a world where the strong climb, the weak are thrown to the depths. I didn’t climb, I was thrown… and I kept falling...until the Abyss stared back.”When the world ended, the tower rose from the earth, and humanity was forced into a game of survival against nightmare-fueled monsters. Machines stopped working and amidst the chaos, Xior Arden, a broken orphan boy with empty eyes was cast into the lowest depths of the Abyss.There, the weak don’t die quickly. They suffered and so he did suffer.But the Abyss chose him.With the power to absorb runes from fallen monsters, evolve his body into higher forms, and steal the essence of the creatures he kills. Xior begins to climb the tower, not as a hero. But as the thing which the Abyss itself fears:A Monarch born in the dark.***Additional Tags: TowerClimbing, Anti-hero, System, Revenge, WeakToStrong, MorallyGreyProtagonist, CunningProtagonist, ArrogantProtagonist***

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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