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... nd dug the snow pile apart, revealing a large piece of oil paper.

Under the oil paper was a pile of dry firewood and an iron pot.

Because of the oil paper and the fact that the snow here never melts all year round, the firewood was still dry, but it was cold and hard, so it took a lot of effort to light it.

Xiao Qing helped fill the iron pot with snow blocks, watching the snow blocks slowly melt in the pot, and their hands and feet gradually warmed up because they were st ...

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Among them lived the weakest species on the Meer Continent, the Monster Species. They only survived with their tough bodies in the midst of a world ruled by magic power.

To the mage, they were simply pests that were easy to be exterminated.

To avoid the eyes of the mana rulers, they had to hide in secluded places; in the caves shrouded by shadows or in the dark underground where filth was brimming. But, continuing to hide was not a solution.

When warbeasts sharpened their claws, elves polished their weapons, humans feasted on their greed, and demons searched for prey with their thirst, an orc named Moku was born.

Moku was a world MMA champion who transmigrated into the body of an orc in the magical world. He had always dreamed of possessing superpowers; being able to jump beyond the clouds, shattering the mountains in one hit and running faster than sound.

Moku dreamed of having these powers. He used rituals, magical lore, and all the things that were considered myths and fairy tales in his home world to make him and his tribe stronger.

A promise was deeply engraved by him. One day, he would bring the war to those who underestimated them.

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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.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

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

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[Excerpt]

“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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