Rise of the Malactric Heir - Chapter 415 Though As Hungry, Next Section

The young lady who was born in the Tang family and was sent to the Taoist temple for five years was brought back.

Everyone had their own thoughts and planned to welcome the tender, sickly and weak girl, but they did not want to see a bright little bald head.

He also followed them like a small tail all day long, saying that they were dying soon.

In this regard, the Tang family resisted at first, even if it is not cute and soft, it should not be a nonsense little magic stick!

Later, when she saw that the little girl was about to take action after turning the bad guy’s shame into anger, the crowd exclaimed, she held a small whisk in one hand and a small pink fist in the other to “convince people with virtue” for them.

The Tang family who gradually eat soft rice: Really fragrant!

**

The wealthy Rong family has been inherited for a hundred years. It is rumored that there is a noble young master in this Fangshen mansion. He is dressed in Tang suit and has Buddhist beads around his wrists. Everyone is afraid.

One day, on the reclining chair under the pear tree in the courtyard, a pile of plush yarn was placed on the lap of the boy who had always been calm and intelligent.

The guards wondered, this little young master did not touch the spring water with his ten fingers.

Just listen to this gentle question: I’ve been thinking about it, or a plush hat to keep warm, do you think the pink one looks good today, or the colorful one?

Guard: ? ? ?

**

Rong Qing knew from a young age that she was different, that she was too hostile, and that she always wanted to get close.

Until she met Tang Jin holding a small whisk, pressing the ghost on the ground with a hammer, and the ghost fled everywhere, she still remembered that the sea of ​​suffering is endless.

Later, Rong Qing touched the other party’s small bald head, and smiled and pulled her hand: How about going through a pass today, brother?

For the sake of you being so good-looking, Xiao Nian is holding hands, softly and reservedly: Yes.

- Description from novelbuddy

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

Let go of your burden and chase the footsteps of your predecessors from the shadow.

Blinded in the past life, hence train the body to locate enemy by sound.

Upon rebirth, using the future information, obtain the best equipment! Purgatory transcript on strategy! The strongest thief skills!

With a dagger in my hands, slaughter the world of those who oppose me.

Traditions does not die only fade away

- Description from Novelupdates

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.