Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special - Chapter 28: Murim Debut (1)

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.

A social worker father and his adult daughter crash land on a desert full of crystal plants and little else. The city walls of Ar'Kendrithyst rise in the distance, but as the pair hike closer they see those walls are more like mountains, and the mega-metropolis is long dead. Luckily, the adventuring city of Spur is alive and green and hospitable, and well outside of Ar’Kendrithyst’s shadow.Follow Erick Flatt as he tries to make a nice life with new friends in a new home with his daughter at his side, but this land is rarely as kind as its people, and Erick will need to change if he wants to live the life he wishes to live. What to expect:Slow burn storyline, worldbuilding, father-daughter relationship, Erick is the MC, Jane is the side character, slice of life, numbers in blue boxes but also high fantasy, trying to understand magic, creating new magic, living the easy life but forced into dealing with problems, problems becoming very large, massive changes, traumatizing content, and most of all: character growth.

Dressed as [fantasy world] [patriarch], portray the fantasy world as realistic as possible from the perspective of the family, grow spiritual fields, raise spiritual fish, develop various family industries in an all-round way, support salted fish elders to become ancestors to serve as umbrellas, and inspire juniors to bravely venture The Holy Land Academy has come to the fore.

It is not a fantasy of passionate combat, but is based on the promotion of various family industries, capital, facilities, domestic servants, family generals, clansmen, guest officials, in-laws and other elements. Trying to see the “old-fashioned” fantasy world from a fresh perspective.

- Description from novelbuddy

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go.Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass.Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons.On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes.A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past.Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.