Vermillion - Chapter 11.2

“I, Benson Walton, reject you, Selma Payne, from being my future Luna and mate.

“If you’re sensible, you’ll find a quiet place to die on your own, instead of tarnishing our people’s glory.

“You’re just an ugly toad. Stay in the mud quietly, and don’t burden our pack.”

On Benson’s nineteenth birthday, he found out that we were destined mates. But I didn’t expect that he would rather endure great pain than accept me. Every word he said smashed directly into my heart, and the pain made me tremble uncontrollably.

I learned I wasn’t my parents’ biological child when I was sixteen. Although they thought of me as an angel that a stork had given them, it didn’t change the fact that I was a weak, little human.

I was just a soft egg who would fall over with a poke, a loser who couldn’t even see the road without help from the moonlight. My existence brought shame to my parents, and to my pack!

Perhaps I should have died in the woods from the start. With that thought in mind, I decided to return them a pure and unblemished pack tonight.

So, I jumped off a cliff and thought I would die. I never imagined I would be saved, and my true identity turned out to be the Lycan King’s only daughter who had been lost eighteen years ago. I was also heir to the throne!

That surprised me a lot. I was actually a werewolf? But… Why was I so weak? Was this all just a mistake?

To become a qualified heir, I concealed my identity and received training. However, could that frivolous instructor who was in charge of training me really help me awaken my wolf, or was he simply taking advantage of me?

As I grew stronger and became a public figure, others attacked and plotted against me many times. Did they have anything to do with those who kidnapped me all those years ago?

I have to catch them! I’ll protect my family, and my lover!

I don’t know why I die, I don’t know why I live.

Divided hunters die of loyalty,

The witch who plays with emotions dies of love,

Cautious fortune-tellers die of trust.

The thief who steals everything has nothing,

The visionary who created everything never existed.

The traveler fell on his way home,

The twilight giants rest before dawn.

Lawyers sacrifice for order,

Judges forget the law.

The sleepless sleeps in the dark,

The corpse collector lay in the coffin.

We are guardians, and a bunch of poor creatures who are constantly fighting against danger and madness.

This journey is life and death.

While drowning was inevitable, they had struggled.

This is the worst of times, this is the best of times.

- Description from novelbuddy

Xie Tao had always believed in science until one day, a meteorite smashed into his yard, forcing him to bind to a heroic world saving script. The worst thing was that the script didn’t even follow common sense.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”