I Have Yet to Become a Doll Today - Chapter 61 - : 61: A Lifetime Thief

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]

Sa gitna ng kabundukang binabalot ng misteryo, lumaki si Esmeralda, isang dalagang manunugis na may kakaibang lakas at talas ng pakiramdam, sa kalinga ni Ismael— isang albularyong umampon sa kanya dalawang dekada na ang nakalilipas. Ngunit sa kabila nito, nakatago ang isang katotohanang unti-unting mabubunyag— ang lihim ng kanyang pinagmulan na bumabagtas sa hangganan ng tao at mundo ng kakaibang elemento.Sa pagbabalik nila sa baryo ng kanyang lolo, harapin ni Esmeralda, hindi lamang ang sigalot sa pagitan ng kinalakhang pamilya, kun 'di pati na rin ang mga lihim ng kanyang pagkatao. Sa gitna ng pamilyar na tanawin ng baryo, magtatagpo ang landas nila ng mga taong magiging parte ng buhay niya— mayroong magiging gabay sa kaniyang pagtuklas at may iilan namang magdudulot ng kapahamakan at kalituhan sa kaniyang paghahanap ng kasagutan.Sino ba talaga siya? At ano ang pinagmulan niya?Ngunit sa bawat hakbang niya patungo sa pagtuklas ng katotohanan, lalong lalalim ang ugnayan niya sa mga anino ng mga nilalang na walang ibang nais kun 'di ang kaniyang pagkawasak. Sa bawat mutyang mahahawakan ni Esmeralda, sisigaw ang nakaraan— at sa bawat sigaw nito, unti-unting mabubuo ang kwento ng isang salinlahing nababalot ng hiwaga na siyang uukit at huhubog sa kaniyang pagkatao.

Mimizuku, a small girl with chains on her wrists and ankles and the numbers “332” branded onto her forehead, wanders into the Forest of Night seeking to be eaten by a monster. However, when the ruler of the monsters, the mysterious and beautiful “King of Night,” refuses to eat her, she tries to formulate a way to convince him otherwise.

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.