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... Chapter 9

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

~Ivan's POV~

I couldn't focus on dinner. Anger burned through me, making my hands shake. I could barely hold it in, struggling to believe what was happening or to make sense of it all.

How could this have happened? Zara—my Zara—married to Snow? It made no sense. It was impossible. I stabbed at the roasted turkey, shoving a big cut into my mouth, barely tasting it.

As ...

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[Activating the Cultivation Emulator.]

[Your current cultivation talent options are: extraordinary writing skills, disabilities…]

[Day 1. You transmigrated to a small village at the foot of Tianwu Mountain. You were determined to become a great cultivator who was immortal. On the same day, you left the village and headed into the mountains.]

[Day 2. You were in the mountains and hadn’t found any food so far. Hungry and thirsty, you sought temporary shelter in a dilapidated temple at night. To your surprise, there were monsters in the temple. You had no means to defend yourself and you died.]

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10 days later, Zhao Hao ventured into the cultivation world, along with 10 top cultivation talents.

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

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No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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