PREVIEW

... d at Bessare's city gate, ready to enter the city.

Since it was approaching evening, more people were entering the city than leaving because few would choose to travel at night, so those entering the city had already lined up, undergoing inspections and checks from the gate guards as they waited to enter one by one.

Even though the line wasn't that long, Riezel and the others still had to wait a long time before it was their turn to enter the city.

It was inevitable.

...

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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

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Chen Quan Ran is a young general. Rather than return home and see his child wife, Mo Lan, he leads his army in battle for 10 years.

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The leader of the alliance, Song Zhaolan brought a group of martial artists to besiege the demonic sect. Suddenly the whole alliance and the demonic sect had crossed over to be the students of Class A and Class F.

So this group of people climbed the wall and went to the Internet cafe, stayed up late to read novels, and participated in the sports meeting with 18 kinds of martial arts…

The students at Wulin No. 1 Middle school were going crazy. Every day, they trembled under the authority of these two big bosses. They were caught in the middle of these two classes that were sanctioned with iron fists. There were no longer mandarin ducks in the grove, only the two bosses shouting at each other.

Finally one day, Song Zhaolan received the demon’s “letter of surrender”:

“Who says that good and evil do not mix? I insist to exist in your heart!”

Class A student: The alliance leader is mighty, he actually captured the right palm of the devil with one hand!

Class F student: The leader has a good heart, he actually used his mouth to save this scumbag!

BCDE student: Are you blind or mentally disabled? ? ?

The martial arts master who only wants to cook shou X The master who only wants to learn gong

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The return of the fallen kingChapter 103 Why would they?
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-Picture is not mine, I do not own the right for it, so if owner wants it to be put down, please message me on the comment-

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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