Holy Necromancer: Rebirth of the Strongest Mage - 92 Chapter 92

After Amihan, politician by day and otaku by night, died from a political assassination, she got transmigrated as the saintess in another world. But she always felt like a fraud. Why? If she was the chosen one, why did she feel so rotten inside?Also, wasn't she atheist?However, her years of forced piety and suppressed desires ended in spectacular failure - her decapitation.Three days later, she woke to the sight of a worshiper bowing low. “Welcome back, O Sun Who Burns The World,” they said.'Wait. What? I'm not the Saintess? I was this all along?'Furious at the wasted years of celibacy, moral dilemmas, and suffocating oaths, Serafine made a vow: no more pretending. No more rules. The world? Hers to ruin. The people? Playthings.But wait. It was harder than she thought because...How in the name of the Goddess Aurelia was she supposed to have her debut when she was surrounded by a bunch of suspicious and crazy beautiful women who wants to hunt her down?!This was no different from her previous world!

In the 21st century, she was the outstanding world renowned darling of the field of archeology. Then, she transmigrated and became Jinjiang city’s Ji Family’ Third Miss, a small malnourished girl who starved to death. She was unfavored by her father and treated like air by the rest. Therefore, just to earn money and feed herself she had to return to her old profession – being a forensic anthropologist.

With a pair of dextrous hands, she stroked and examined those clickety white bones to solve old and dusty unresolved cases.

He was a handsome cold prince. Just to see the beauty smile, he would not hesitate to throw away his moral principles and repeatedly flirt with her.

In the end, he only received a supercilious look from her, as she declared “Prince, one touch is a 1,000 taels.”

“Then, this prince will give you 10,000 taels for a kiss!”

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

She, a 21st century mercenary queen, had crossed over into a tragically betrayed body of a waste. Waste? She will show them what it means to be a waste! Betrayed? With the Ancient Manual in her hands, she will astonish all the despicable men and cheap women!

Wait! Didn’t everyone say that she was an evil woman which everyone feared? Why is his Third Highness, full of mystery and charisma, so interested in her?

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