Tribulation of Myriad Races - Chapter 640: Threaten (3)

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear. Although there is a lack of supplies and life was monotonous, this wasn’t what she was concerned about because she got a small personal interspatial space, which was stuffed with supplies, so temporarily there were no worries about her basic needs.What she’s worried about is that if she remembers correctly, her three so-called sons will become big villains in the future, and their upright and cold dad will end up with an undeniable end.Lin Qing He looked at the three future villain sons, the eldest who was only five years old, the second child was only three years old, and the third child was only one year old, and decided to give them half of a big white bun first…

A weary historian dies and finds himself in a different world awakened in a life as the notorious young Duke of a southern state. His nation is weakened, his army underfed, and his neighbors revolve around his lands menacingly. No one believes his land is going to hold out until winter.But this newfound duke is no naive simpleton his enemies recollect. He carries with him the experience of centuries of war and empire, of starting and ending monarchies. From Caesar to Napoleon, from the Mongols to world wars, he has learned from each of them—and his strategy is to make history his very own arms.He organizes his smashed levies into well-trained formations, rebuilds his castles, and turns his villages into supply centers. Where others see defeat, he senses opportunity. As he triumphs, rumors spread: of a pennant red as winter snow that shall not go to ground, of a bloody duke who writes his name in gore and flame.Is he a savior who's constructing a new empire, or a tyrant who's going to bring the world to endless war?

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?