Abe the Wizard - Chapter 1399 - Back To The Holy Continent

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In a usurped kingdom , amid a war-torn and blood-soaked Italy, Conradin's battleground is set. To reclaim his birthright the crown of Sicily, he must tread a path paved with blood, learning that he must do whatever it takes to ascend the throne.

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In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king.

In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable.

As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

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(Warning Mature Content R-18)After a catastrophic plane crash, a group of college students find themselves marooned on a mysterious, uncharted island teeming with an ancient, aphrodisiacal energy. As they adapt to their new reality, the island's seductive influence heightens their libidos, awakening latent powers alongside primal urges of lust, envy, and avarice.Beneath the paradise-like facade, the island proves to be a manipulative prison, thriving on their deepest desires and fears. Survival hinges on more than just overcoming the island's perils; it demands they confront the beasts within, where every alliance is tested by temptation, and every passion could lead to their ultimate downfall.

Vampire Slave Number 43, or the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, learned about the history between the humans and the Vampires and it filled him with rage and hatred.

Nonetheless, he was helpless to do anything.

After years and years of suppression, the Vampires have become the weakest race in the world.

However, lady luck seemed to be on his side as Azriel found an ancient jar filled with mysterious blood that will not only change his, but his race's destiny as well.

This, will be the story about the rise of the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, and the Return of the Forgotten Blood Empire.

...

“Have you heard about the rumour?”

“What rumour?”

“They say that there's a Vampire on the loose, he's out there killing humans mercilessly”

“Hahahaha! That's the funniest joke I ever heard! Vampires? Those Slaves? Hahaha!”

“Yeah, I feel the same! I think someone just started this rumour as a joke! Hahaha! How can those weaklings kill us, humans?”

“True True…”

In a bar, two middle-aged men talked and laughed as they discussed the recent rumour they heard.

Seeing those two, a drunk old man shook his head as he sighed.

“Ignorance is bliss indeed…”

“These younglings do not know what the real fear is…

The vampires may have fallen… but my old bones still remember the days when they were in their prime…”

The old man sobered up in an instant and his body shuddered in fear as the memories of the long-forgotten horror appeared in his mind.

He then took a deep breath as he patted his trembling body and muttered.

“I just hope that they are not back…”

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

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