Transmigrating as an Extra Third-Rate Villain - Chapter 4 - :Mountains [2]

The Mad Cultivator follows the tale of Ye Kong, a rude and vulgar thug from modern day China. While collecting protection fees, he was sent to another world! By the time he realized what was going on, he was possessing the body of an idiot. Watch as Ye Kong struggles against fate to climb the road to immortality!

- Description from Novelupdates

I’ve entered a hidden route in a failed game.And now, I have to become a false prophet.There’s no other choice.Since it’s come to this, I’ll become the greatest false prophet on the continent.

“I, Lethia Ashcroft, accept your rejection, soon-to-be Clown Alpha of the Rotten Obsidian Pack, as my ungrateful mate. May your divorced life find its hellhole.”*****Year 2666.Werewolves and their kin have long embraced civilization, seamlessly blending into the high-tech world alongside humans.It is the year Lykon Haven hosts its once-in-seven-year event to select a new leader—one who will govern the shifting dynamics of werewolf packs across the country.It is also the year Lethia Ashcroft faces the ultimate humiliation when her mate, her husband, rejects her because of the infidelity she never committed.It cost her the inheritance she and her late father had worked so hard for.When she tries to flee exile while pregnant, she is caught in an accident—one that leaves her possessed by a seductive spirit fox.The creature needs a vessel to ignite her beads and, in exchange, grants Lethia the power to protect her unborn child.But that untamed spirit entangles her with three dangerously irresistible Lycans from Lykon Haven—men who have severed themselves from the fated mate bond.A stoic, protective doctor.A brooding, dominant businessman.A charming, playful celebrity.All Lethia wants is to reclaim what was rightfully hers and live a peaceful and comfortable life, alone with her baby. And she must get it—no matter what.But the mischievous Moon Goddess seems to take great pleasure in twisting her fate.

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…