The Royal Deal - Chapter 231

Every alpha generation must have a Saint, an omega chosen by the Moon Goddess to carry the cub, the heir of the world. When the last saint vanished, the curse fell on me.I am not a saint. I am a fake saint, bound to a duty I never asked for, and forced to walk among alphas assigned to guide me, claim me, and guard me.Their eyes are all on me, each filled with desire, obsession, hunger… and each one willing to do whatever it takes to make me theirs. And among the circle of them, one shadow stands colder than the rest, the alpha whose hands destroyed my family, whose cruelty made me an orphan.The Moon Goddess demands obedience. But my body and heart burn with a dangerous defiance, and I will not bow to prophecy… not to them, not to fate.

The world is up for sale, and Robin is making an offer.When Robin Waybright became the Merchant Hero, all of Pangeal turned into his marketplace; for the Merchant can buy and sell anything. Youth, skills, memories, hair color, joys and illnesses… in the trade of power, every deal can tip the scale.And Robin needs power. His homeland of Archfrost teeters on the brink of collapse, the sinister Demon Ancestors plot in the shadows, and twenty-one other Heroes, each with their own Class, have been chosen to save the world of Pangeal. Not all of them are friendly. There’s work to do… and profit to make.Cover by Dinovoila and Gharbi Zouhayer.

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]