PREVIEW

... ied lattice of coordinates and moments, a intricate web where every thread of existence is laid bare to your heightened senses.

Every object is seen not only where it is, but when it exists, revealing timelines and positions in vivid detail that pierce through veils of deception.

Ambushes, hidden dimensions, delayed attacks. none can surprise you, for you foresee their emergence in the grand tapestry of space and time that unfolds before your inner vision.

[Chrono-Spatial ...

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Humanity’s immortal path has been severed. Absorbing spiritual energy directly was no longer an option.While humans despaired, ghosts thrived. With their connection to the other side, they grew stronger by the day, turning humans into nothing more than prey and livestock.But to every rule, there is an exception.“That’s why, my son, if you ever see the man with the straw hat… run as fast as you can.” — Mamma Ghost.“But Mommy… aren’t humans weak? Aren’t they just our food?” — Ghost Boy.Mamma Ghost sighed, looking at her fatherless son with pity.“Ah, child… your father thought the same.”Feng Fan never wanted this life. He never asked for this mission. But fate had other plans.Witness his journey as he ascends to immortality and restores humanity’s lost Dao.“In this universe, there is no ghost I can’t seal!”#tsundere #transmigration #r18 #no-harem #horror

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He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

“Elia,” he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. “I am Reth.” He said the name with a strange, guttural roll in his throat. “I am King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader, and I am Alpha of WildWood.” Several snarls rose from the crowds behind him then, but he ignored them.

Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

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