The Ruined Death Knight - Chapter 1: Prologue

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

My whole life, all I wanted was power.

I churned the world into rivers of blood and eventually gained the title, “Demon Lord of Strength”. However, all this became useless when I lost to a party of heroes.

But what can a loser say? As I laid dying, I was forced to listen to the hero’s gibberish:

“If you are born again, I hope that you will live a kind life!”

But huh? When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past.

“What do I have to do to live a kind life?”

This is the beginning of an ex-Demon Lord’s journey to live a kind

A seemingly ordinary training exercise led Chen Jian and his squad into a completely different time and space.In the post-apocalyptic world, monsters run rampant, and the surviving humans struggle to live under their terrifying claws.To fight the monsters, the living have abandoned everything.Human nature no longer exists; beastliness is the mainstream.To defeat them, one must first become them.-----------------Chen Jian was supposed to be like the others here, pursuing the maddening evolution.But, when the tungsten-core armor-piercing round first penetrated the Kui Niu's keratin armor, he suddenly discovered...Perhaps there is another way to stay alive?

In front of people, she was an ordinary student who had no background and came out of the county with a playful smile on her lips.

Afterward, she was a business king who had been paving the way for prosperity in China.

Wei Sheng was accidentally reborn in the autumn of 1998 and had to face heavy school work, the cold eyes of her relatives, her parents expectations, and clear class discrimination again.

When re-entering the stage of history, how could she let everything repeat itself?

But she was sad to find that the television station had to take a break every afternoon?

There was no computer or iPad, small books were the paradise of childrens dreams.