Rise of the Sword Son-in-Law - Chapter 8 - : You Are Not Worthy

Son of a bitch! I just finished this godawful fantasy novel, and now I'm knee-deep in it – as David, the disgraced son of the Solarian Empire's top general! Talk about some twisted cosmic joke. But hold on a damn minute... maybe this isn't all bad. Armed with the knowledge of that trashy plot, I can become the ultimate shadow player, an overlord perhaps. Screw the damsel-in-distress harem too – it's time to pull the strings and become the real power behind the throne. This isekai might be a steaming pile, but I'm rewriting the ending with a little more... Debauchery (wink wink).

The story about a family's struggle to ensure that, above all else, their youngest escapes from the mines where he was born into slavery. Follow Alistar as he struggles through terror and tragedy, embarking on a road to discover himself and his heritage.

Driven by his need for revenge, Lazarus, the Lore’s most ruthless vampire, plots to seize the throne of Wilyra and rule it along with his betrothed, the fae goddess Maeve who thrives in a borrowed body.

Lazarus has a perfect plan—until he finds Emmalyn, a young mortal who is the daughter of the rebel leader of blood vassals in his kingdom and an integral part of his plan. He captures the young girl to cast her soul out for Maeve.

Emmalyn yearns for a better life to escape from her stepmother and an indifferent father. She never imagined that they would sell her to the royals to save her brother’s life.

But there’s only one problem. Emmalyn tempts Lazarus beyond reason. As the time to cast her soul out draws closer, he must choose between his lust for the throne or his irresistible mortal.

Will Lazarus succumb to lust for power and crown? Or will he risk it all to have a future with her?

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.