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... entative narrowed his eyes and said, “Not only that, this fellow is very meticulous. First, let the Wolf Country’s new lord alliance and a few smaller new lord alliances pin down the invading lord alliance’s headquarters. This is equivalent to using the weakest strength to pin down the enemy’s strongest strength.”


“Then, the other countries’ new lords alliance will directly attack the invading lords alliance’s reinforcements. This will be able to finish off the reinforcements in the sh ...

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A second or third story of a great power who has no choice but to go to a high-level small world to cultivate immortals! !

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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.

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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.

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“Please, Ayleth.”

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