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Next chapter: Chapter 39
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... ory, each breath a testament to my newfound freedom. The packhouse receded behind us, swallowed by the darkness, and with every step, the weight on my chest seemed to lighten.

I strained my ears, listening for any sound of pursuit. The baying of hounds, the shouts of guards, the howling of wolves, anything that would indicate we had been discovered. But there was nothing. Only the rustling of leaves and the frantic pounding of my own heart.

Shadow set a relentless pace, her body ...

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My name is Charlemagne Theron, yes, that’s right, that’s the Theron you think of, and Ajan Lor’themar is my younger brother.

Don’t call me Daqiang, or I guarantee you will be beaten to three quarters to death. As a reliable time traveler, I will tell you responsibly, I…

“Charlemagne, what are you muttering, today is the day when my younger brother will inherit the position of Ranger General, you don’t want to be used by Cirvanas and Vereesa Hurry up when the arrow hits your nostril.”

“…Okay, my dear Alleria, here we go.”

When the two walked away holding hands, an imperceptible figure appeared on the spot.

“Brother, I wish you a happy Shura field.”

I am Charlemagne Theron, I have led the people to participate in the orc war, defeated the ancient gods and the second fool, I also fought against the Burning Legion, and I have made contributions to Azeroth , I bring salt for myself.

(PS: Don’t call me Daqiang, unless you want to grow an arrow from a certain key part behind you.)

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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.

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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.

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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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