Empire of the Ring - Chapter 115 - Zeynep Security Service (2)

[Previously titled “The Queen is Wed”] By accident, Mo Shu bound herself to a system that demanded she court death daily in order to survive.As the malicious supporting character, her first task was to make the overbearing CEO despise her, while also playing matchmaker between the main female character and him. When necessary, she would offer her own face for them to crazily slap, assisting them to marry so she could make a perfect exit.Thus, Mo Shu, in her struggle to survive, spent every day tremblingly courting disaster in various ways. Yet, accidentally, she somehow ended up marrying the man she adored. Now, where did she go wrong?![Not a fast-paced traversing story][Crazy pampering + exhilarating plot]

As a top-ranking swordsman, he knew very well that there was no such thing as a 'Munchkin' in the world he was in.

But it seemed that he was wrong all the while.

'I should slowly stop getting stronger now... But can I really do this?'

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Born as the thirteenth son of the grand Kingdom of Ironhelm, Prince Liam is far from being considered a contender in the race for the throne. With his father, King Elijah Orlean, having only eight years left to choose the next heir, Liam’s prospects are slim. Seen as the boy with the least mana talent, he is overlooked by the court, his siblings, and even his tutors.But appearances can be deceiving. At just thirteen years old, Liam is secretly an Expert Mage, capable of wielding magic with precision and power that even the most talented in the kingdom would envy. Determined to keep his abilities hidden, Liam embarks on a path of quiet preparation, honing his skills in secret while navigating the dangerous political intrigue of Ironhelm.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.