MTL - In This Hogwarts Without a Savior - Chapter 357 355. Attacking Hermione

In a world ravaged by demonic hordes and warring clans, where does humanity end and monstrosity begin?After being murdered in a back alley, Lidien awakens in the body of a demonic prince... a youth bound by tragedy and trapped in a brutal clan.To survive, he must master the strange abilities granted by a crimson shard fused to his soul: hearing the whispers of the dead, reading memories imprinted on flesh, and inciting his own blood to rage.But Lidien soon learns his rebirth was no accident. He is a vessel for a dormant god, and his very existence is entangled in a cosmic struggle far beyond the savage politics of his new family.To protect those he cares for and control his own destiny, he must unravel the mysteries of death, power, and the abyss within himself.This is the legend of the Prince of Death.----------This novel includes politics, kingdom building, psychological elements, and is not solely about powerups.

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”

In a fractured world ravaged by the collision of dimensions, humanity faces an apocalyptic threat from three fronts—vengeful ghosts from the past, sinister alien invaders from beyond the stars, and rogue artificial intelligences that have turned on their creators. Amid the chaos, a resistance rises, blending human courage with AI innovation to battle the horrors plaguing the Earth.Leading the charge is Elara Myles, a brilliant yet haunted survivor who holds a mysterious nexus device—one that connects to a realm between the living and the dead. As the veil between dimensions thins, Elara must confront phantom enemies and inner demons while uncovering the secret behind the Nexus—before it becomes humanity’s doom.With every heartbeat, the war intensifies. Ghosts whisper secrets, machines evolve with emotion, and the skies rain down terror. In Phantom Nexus, survival isn't just about fighting back—it's about understanding the enemy that once was us.

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?