Young Master Fu’s Incredible Real Heiress - Chapter 690

Ling Yihan arrived in the Wuxia world of “Heavenly Sword,” where he mastered the Nine Suns Divine Art, seized six Holy Fire Orders, and obtained the Imperial Jade Seal.Through system tasks, he acquired the Bridal Garment Divine Skill, Bright Jade Skill, Spirit Link Finger, and many other extraordinary techniques…Ji Xiaofu: “Your fingers… they can actually hold my sword…”Dai Qisi: “How is it that his martial arts are so similar to our Persian techniques…”Yin Susu: “My mosquito whiskers are useless against him…”Fan Yao: “His moves are even more bizarre than mine…”Qingyi Bat King: “My speed can’t match his…”Xuanming Elders: “Even the combined power of our Xuanming Divine Palm can’t withstand his Nine Suns Divine Art…”Zhang Sanfeng: “Ling, my friend, your Move the Flower and Connect the Jade technique is just as powerful as my Tai Chi fist…”Feilu.com reminds you: This novel and its characters are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental. Please do not imitate.

Drizzles in the wind, a small shop with pennants, and flower-like vintners.

Xinfeng’s fine wine, tenderly-fresh sunflowers shoots, and superb delicacies.

Lin Yan, Shaoyin of Jingzhao laid his eyes on the restaurant’s owner who has skin as fair as snow and beautiful apricot eyes.

It was pitiful and pathetic for a young lady from high-society to fall into the situation of selling wine…

Yet Shen Shaoguang thought: With wines and delicacies, and being able to see handsome young lads pass by…Life is treating her well enough!

Lin Yan’s expression was heavy, these young lads dress up fancily every day, showing off themselves and playing boring games like rooster fights and dog races…It’s time to straighten them out!

- Description from Novelupdates

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]

In the year 4 Before the New Calendar, just four years before the arrival of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Lyle finds himself sitting by the roadside, gnawing on a piece of coarse black rye bread. His gaze is hollow, tinged with despair—he has been transported to the world of Overlord.The prospect of facing the devastating events to come chills him to the bone. In just a few years, the Great Tomb will unleash its might, razing nations and reshaping the world. Lyle foresees two grim paths ahead: perishing in the cataclysmic aftermath or surviving to live under the rule of the Sorcerer Kingdom.But as hopelessness threatens to consume him, a unique panel materializes before his eyes: Innate Ability: “Player”.Armed with the same advantage as the feared entities of Nazarick, Lyle resolves to carve his destiny. If they're all players in this grand game, why should he cower before them? The race against time begins as he seeks to grow stronger, navigate the treacherous world, and defy the fate that looms ever closer.