I Was Stuck on the Same Day For a Thousand Years - Chapter 8: The woman with a cold voice and domineering personality

“Seek poetry within rigorous logic, understand the essence of existence in endless exploration.” —Qiao ZeWelcome to a school prodigy novel without a system, where intelligence crushes all, for your appreciation!PS: This text is a light-hearted daily life story of a school prodigy.Readers who do not enjoy slice-of-life stories, please consume with caution.

“So basically... I'm a Necromancer from my game... in this world?”“...And I'm useless?”“Yeah, right.”---Alexander never expected his dull life to change—until a single message appeared. What seemed like a prank or an ARG from his game became something far more real.He transmigrates.Now, in the body of Asher Morgan, a nineteen-year-old with a lonely past. His plan? Stay under the radar, play it safe, and live like he always had—a gamer, a slacker.But fate had other plans.At Velcrest Academy’s Inauguration Ceremony, where students awaken their powers, Asher receives the worst possible class.“Outcast. Worthless.”That becomes his new name—until fate decides to change plans.The system glitches.—[ERROR… ERROR… Recalculating Awakening Process…][Hidden Ability Detected—Reawakening Process Initiated][SSS-Ranked Ability Unlocked: Sovereign of the Dead][Secret Evolution Triggered—Job Upgraded: Lord of Draconic Souls]—At first, he is frustrated, but then, he remembers....if the old Asher had lived to see this moment, he would have been miserable, abandoned, and forgotten.He reluctantly accepts his fate, ready to prove them all wrong.

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]Prologue – The Law of AuraThey say every soul burns.Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.These are the Tyrants.And their aura is not a gift.It is a weight a burden.In this world, aura is everything.It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.But only one…only one in an ageawakens the Tyrant’s Spirit…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.