MTL - Guide To the HE of the Former Female Supporting Role - Chapter 159 (1)

A door unfolded before him.Evil thrived, and whispers spilled from within.The resentful compound eyes flickered and vanished, the presence longing to burst out was blocked inside, and the alluring murmurs echoed in the ear.The sticky, pink brain mumbled something. A figure cloaked in a yellow robe watched from a distance. A dark green presence, smelling of blood, roared. A string of wondrous soap bubbles released friendliness—and many, many guests.They sincerely invited Lu Li to join this mad party.Lu Li stepped in, his stride resolute and unwavering.He had no reason to refuse.

MC (female protagonist) dies in a plane crash and wakes up in the body of a beautiful but corrupt and lascivious prime minister in ancient times, Zhang Qinglian. As circumstances decree, he (she) cannot reveal that the original owner’s soul is gone else calamity might occur. So he (she) decides to walk a righteous path, determined to help the lovely but simple little emperor rule the country. Not backing down after facing torture, not losing courage, destroying rebellions and facing off with scheming princes.

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

We were a peaceful people living in harmony with nature in the vast lands of Lyréanor, but this peace was short-lived when our people were defeated by the dark elves, an ancient people even older than this world. It is said that they arrived in Lyréanor by boat and since their arrival, chaos has been unleashed. Proud of their obscure power, derived from dark rituals, they have raised gigantic armies of monsters whose name is synonymous with terror: ‘Obscurus’.They went on the rampage, and everywhere they went the grass didn't grow back, life died and disintegrated. Seven, there were seven. The seven dark elves known as the Lords of the Apocalypse. A single gesture from them was enough to strike us all down, a single gesture from one of them was enough to decimate us in blood and terror.And as I, Foster, contemplate the macabre scene before me, the bloodied and deformed bodies of my fellow elfes beings, and as death grips my soul, a strange sign appeared before me.[Ding... Activation of the world tree system]