MTL - Peach and Plum Do Not Speak (The Silent Cherry And Plum Blossoms) - Chapter 63

Bash, the Orc Warrior, is a Hero.

During the war, he crushed and defeated all that stood in his path. He is respected by all Orcs as the Orc among Orcs.

However, Bash has a secret.

He has no experience with women – he, the Hero, was a virgin.

For Orcs, who hold combat and sexual prowess in high regard, being a virgin was tremendously shameful.

With this in mind, he decides to embark on a journey.

In order to protect the pride and honor of his race, but mostly to finally get his d*ck wet, he decides to go to leave on a grand quest to find himself a woman.

Viserys Targaryen was born with the blood of dragons and yet lived his life in exile. He was a prince with a lost kingdom and a fading legacy, an immature bastard who died a pitiful death. Unfortunately, that same death was coming for me now… as I found myself in his body right before molten gold fried my brain.Yes. Fuck Khal Drogo, and fuck the molten crown.With the memories from another life, in this world of betrayal and broken oaths, I had the chance to forge a new destiny for myself. Armed with the knowledge of the future, my own cunning, and [The Dragon System], I made the choice to flee from the Dothraki barbarians and take back what was rightfully mine.

[Disclaimer:This is not a story for the faint-hearted. It explores the darkest aspects of humanity—where morality is shattered, and power takes its place. Most readers won’t have the courage to face this unrelenting descent into shadows.I'm once again telling you if you can't handle deaths and violence and you seek happiness then please do not even touch this Novel.But maybe, just maybe, you’re different. Strong enough to confront the abyss and see what lies beyond.if so Prove it.][Synopsis]:In a world teetering on the edge of chaos, seven empires vie for dominance, each more ruthless than the last. At the heart of this dark tapestry lies Narzan, a nation feared and despised, where cruelty is law and ambition a deadly game. The lands of mortals are but a fragile sanctuary, bordered by forbidden realms—the infernal Demon Realm, where nightmares are born; the accursed Lost Soul Realm, where the damned wander endlessly; and the enigmatic Elven Kingdom, shrouded in secrets and ancient power. These realms whisper of horrors and treasures that could reshape the very fabric of existence.Above it all looms the Weave of Magic, an ancient force that binds life, death, and destiny. It stirs ominously, its threads tangling with shadows of betrayal, vengeance, and destruction. In this world where the strong devour the weak, hope is a fleeting illusion, and mercy is a tale for the foolish.Veythor is a man cursed by the fates, his existence a relentless cycle of suffering. Across three lives, he has endured betrayal, torment, and death. On Earth, he was a man broken by those he trusted—betrayed by family, ruined by love, and condemned to die in despair. In his second life, he met an even crueler fate, falling prey to monsters in human form. But Thalvoria, his third life, is the cruelest of all.A vast and merciless world, Thalvoria is ruled by beings of unimaginable power. Here, mages can sunder mountains with a thought, empires rise and fall in rivers of blood, and forgotten gods slumber beneath the earth. Mythical beasts stalk cursed forests, and the lands themselves seem to hunger for suffering. In Thalvoria, even the heavens cast shadows, and every choice is a gamble with damnation.Yet Veythor, battered and scarred, refuses to succumb. Haunted by memories of his past lives, he begins to weave his pain into something more dangerous. Every betrayal fuels his resolve, every scar sharpens his will. As the balance of power begins to shift and the Weave of Magic tightens its grip on the world, Veythor sets his sights on a singular goal: to seize control of his cursed destiny, no matter the cost.But in a land where salvation and damnation are two sides of the same coin, what will remain of a man who refuses to die?When the world itself hungers for blood, Veythor will rise—or he will drag all of Thalvoria into the abyss with him.

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadow began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallowing saliva. Hunger is the best spur.