The New Gate (LN) - Vol 13 Chapter 3.5: Chapter 3 Part 5

In the city of Graheel, a small antique shop sits quietly mixed in with all the other shops. Its unassuming appearance is easily overlooked by many. However, this store and its owner has a terrible secret. A devil lives in that building. The owner of the store, John Li, an enigmatic figure whose origins and intentions are unknown. The desperate from around the world, often unknowingly, come to him in search of salvation.A red witch thinks the owner is an ancient creature, a white fox calls him a wizard of eld, a warrior believes him to be a spirit, and a holy woman declares him a god. This mysterious individual and his customers would stand at the center of a strange series of events. From the store owner John's perspective, he has no idea what's going on. He really was just an unlucky dude that got caught up in some crazy stuff.

Mutations occurred around the whole world and soon, a demonic apocalypse befell.

In order to defend against demonic beings, humans swiftly entered a globalized digital age. Everyone would be able to choose between a fighting or a supporting job through awakening once they reached the age of 18. These people would get stronger by slaying demonic beings.

Lu Yan had awakened to the weakest job, a Necromancer. However, he had also received a Job Supporting System and was able to reawaken into a hidden job, Lord of the Death.

“Necromancers are so weak that they die in one hit!”

“Man, that dude’s luck is just the worst. He did get a fighting job, but it’s the weakest. What can he do? Summon a few skeletons?”

“Also, aren’t there only like a handful of Necromancers out there? There aren’t a lot of experience or resources for them to inherit. Their future seems bleak.”

“Forget Necromancers! I got the Holy Knight job! Your all-around king is here!”

Not long after that, Lu Yan appeared in a full set of Death Nether Armor while wielding the Death Soul Scythe and leading a 100 thousand-strong death army. With a single swing of his scythe, he split the mythical rank demonic beast in half.

“Necromancers are weak? What does that have to do with me, the Lord of the Death?”

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

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