Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression - Chapter 78: battlefield fell silent

All her life, Eleanora did everything to make him love her but in the end, what she got from him was her execution for a sin that she never did.

Before dying, Eleanora coldly stared at his bloody red eyes as he lifted up the sword to execute her…

“I will never forgive you for killing me and my child.”

For the first time in her life, She saw his anxious gaze.

But it was too late as the sword in his hands had already landed on her neck, separating it from her body.

Eleanora finally thought everything was over but then she opened her eyes again, to find herself back in 12 years in the past when all the misfortune was yet to happen.

She was firm to change her tragic ending this time but it was not only her who changed…

“Even if you hate me, you can only be mine in your every life… My Empress.”.....

For ten years, he had loved her, but with just one word of “brother,” she rejected him completely.His dignity was trampled upon, yet she remained indifferent to his feelings. It was only when He Ju finally woke up to the truth that he realized his love was not even worth mentioning in her eyes.With a plane ticket and a long-planned confession, He Ju finally understood that there were people in this world who loved him foolishly.He Ju no longer obsessed over the past, and instead focused on the person in front of him.However, when he achieved success and had a loving wife, his former lover came crying to him: “Brother He...”

【Survival + Wasteland Reclamation】

Welcome to Survival World!

Here, forget everything you once had and try to live!

In the beginning, there is no tool other than a tree house seed, but you need to find hope in this dangerous jungle.

[Unlocking the creator permission of Survival World…]

what’s the situation? !

[Creator permission unlock failed…]

What is the situation? ? ?

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”