PREVIEW

... red string, which symbolized fate. In the One-horned tribe, red lines were said to have been used by matchmakers to connect the ankles of a man and a woman. A couple that was connected in this way would never split up, and they would stay together for eternity.

Kronos unwittingly teared up when he saw it. He couldn’t bring himself to untie the red string. His hands trembled. “…Wife.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t do it…”

“Goodness. You’re so extra.” Rhea chuckled at her ...

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
Tomb Raider KingChapter 415: Epilogue 6
 189.4k
4.5/5(votes)
ActionAdventureComedyHarem

The tombs of the gods have appeared in the world!

Infinite Competitive Dungeon SocietyChapter 352: God's Marriage (END)
 1.7M
4.3/5(votes)
FantasyHaremRomanceAction

The second moon marked the beginning of a revolutionary change.

With the emergence of monsters and dungeons in modern society, and the ability users who fight against them, the world faces a shift in its paradigm.

It heralds the advent of a new energy source and the decline of traditional occupations.

Common sense thus becomes warped and imagination becomes reality.

Legendary Bloodline CollectorChapter 154 Raging[R-18]
 819
4.2/5(votes)
Martial ArtsFantasy

After suffering so much on earth, Liam died with his heart filled with hatred for heaven and humans.....

At the great void of reincarnation, he disobeyed a god and entered a different reincarnation portal....

He was reborn in a new world, possessing immersive bloodlines abilities....

With this he have finally started his journey of going against the heavens..

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
 22
4.5/5(votes)
FantasyActionAdventureHarem

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”