The Most Generous Master Ever - Chapter 42 - So There's No Room For Negotiations?

Other people’s Alliance Heads are unrivaled in the lands, with an incomparable domineering air. With a shake of their arm they could cause a thousand waves to ripple throughout Jianghu.

Marcella Valemont was a villainess wrapped in silk and thorns.The alluring, selfish daughter of the High Priest, she was forced into a cold marriage with the Black-bellied Duke Berith Montclair. She longed for power and would stop at nothing to claim the crown, even if it meant seducing the incorruptible Crown Prince Lucian and clawing her way to the throne into becoming the Queen.Until it all burned.Her ruthless schemes led to betrayal, rebellion, and ruin-- an empire on its knees, a virtuous king destroyed, and a rebellion led by the man she discarded. Desperate and full of regret, she barters her life with the Duke to save Lucian.In an interesting turn of events, Marcella gets to go back in time to fix her wrongs, save the man who was ruined because of her and hopefully stop the bloodthirsty rebel Duke Berith.She finds herself reborn as her 18-year-old self with a chance for a do-over and vows to do better this time.But the past does not forget. Nor does the devil in her husband’s skin.Secrets long buried begin to surface, and Marcella discovers that her former husband is far more than he seems—a man cloaked in darkness, harboring a purpose that threatens everything she holds dear.They say second chances come with thorns and to fix the past, she must trust the devil who destroyed it.

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.

As an anti-fan of the idol group, Starry Night, An Xiaxia is happy to spend her time online slandering lead singer Sheng Yize.