MTL - Back To Qiqi Farming To Raise Children - Chapter 172 black blind man sneak attack

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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Traversing into another world, Zhang Xuan finds himself becoming an honorable teacher.

Along with his transcension, a mysterious library appears in his mind.

As long as it is something he has seen, regardless of whether it is a human or an object, a book on its weaknesses will be automatically compiled in the library.

Thus, he becomes formidable.

“Emperor Zhuoyang, why do you detest wearing your underwear so much? As an emperor, can’t you pay a little more attention to your image?”

“Fairy Linglong, you can always look for me if you find yourself unable to sleep at night. I am skilled in lullabies!”

“And you, Demon Lord Qiankun! Can you cut down on the garlic? Are you trying to kill me with that stench?”

This is an incredible story about teachers and students, grooming and guiding the greatest experts in the world!

- Description from Novelupdates

They took his name, stole his life, and fed on his pain. But they made one mistake—they let him live.Betrayed by his own blood and sold into slavery, Prince Oliver Von Rich lost everything—his title, his freedom, and his future. For years, his captors in the Somaran Empire bled him dry, using his Royal bloodline as fuel for their Aether.But when they sought King Solomon’s Staff—a relic said to grant any wish—Oliver rebelled. Left beaten and dying, his blood soaked the ancient artifact… and awakened it.Dragged back in time to the eve of his kingdom’s fall, Oliver is no longer a helpless prince. With the scars of his past and knowledge of what’s to come, he’ll rewrite fate—even if it means becoming a monster.To destroy the empire that broke him, Oliver must embrace the cursed power of the most vile demon known to man.

[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.