Dragon Ball Legend of Ayaka - Chapter 273

My whole life, all I wanted was power.

I churned the world into rivers of blood and eventually gained the title, “Demon Lord of Strength”. However, all this became useless when I lost to a party of heroes.

But what can a loser say? As I laid dying, I was forced to listen to the hero’s gibberish:

“If you are born again, I hope that you will live a kind life!”

But huh? When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past.

“What do I have to do to live a kind life?”

This is the beginning of an ex-Demon Lord’s journey to live a kind

“From today onwards you are no longer my son. Get out” Being born into a noble family that is aiming to become the ‘strongest’, at his aptitude ceremony held on his 12th birthday it was discovered that Igni could only use fireballs. Igni who can only use beginner level magic was kicked out of his house.

With no where to go and without much magical ability, Igni is scraping by through life. However, one day he has miraculous reunion. “What? Is that Igni there?” “Gr-grandpa!?” It was a reunion with his grandfather, the man who was once called the strongest [Kyokuten] but was banished from his noble family because of his excessive womanizing…! “Grandpa! You said strong men are popular, but I can’t be strong!!” “Igni, listen carefully. Strong men are popular but, hard-working men are even more popular!!” “Grandpa! I’ll try my best!!!” Igni whose parents who banished Igni from the house, didn’t yet know of his obsession with being popular under the guidance of the strongest [Kyokuten] magician…!

“Igni that magic!” “This? It’s a fireball” “With this you can aim for [Kyokuten]! Come back here!!” “Nobility isn’t popular” “What are you saying?” This is a story where a young magician becomes the strongest by honing his skills all in order to become popular.

A Filipino man died in an illness during the latest pandemic and found himself transmigrated in a world of magic, in which he received a dinging sound in his ear.[You have transmigrated in the body of: Nameless: abandoned newborn humanAbandoned what?[God of Undead: ??? Have bestowed you his blessing by giving you the name [ Sophia Demiurge] ]I'm a girl?

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.