Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale - Chapter 87: Ancient Codes

The Principality of Atall lies between two great powers: the Kingdom of Allion to the west, and the Holy Dytiann Alliance to the east. Leo Attiel, the second-born prince, was sent to Allion as little more than a hostage, where he studied and trained in the military arts under a frontier general. And now, the times have reached a turning point.

Relations between Allion and Conscon Temple, a neutral land adjoining Atall, have worsened. Percy, sent from Atall as reinforcement; Camus, a warrior monk; and Kuon, a mercenary from a remote region, join forces to resist the looming threat of Allion’s army.

At the centre of the fighting, the three of them and Leo are about to have their fated encounter.

I want an S-Rank skill too! I want it so badly, I could die for it!

World ended on 12:31:2024DING!WELCOME TO REBIRTH: 100 DAYS BEFORE DOOMSDAY!Grace Blackwood survived five long years in the apocalypse before she was killed by her own people. Miraculously, she returned to the past with the help of her family's heirloom - exactly 100 days before the Doomsday.Having a space that was upgraded with a system, she took her revenge, stockpiled supplies for the future, and made necessary deals and connections.In her last life, she was alone. But this time, she found four men who were loyal to her and were ready to die just to keep her safe.In her previous life, she lost her most trusted people, but this time, she was ready to do anything to save them.This time, she was ready to face the apocalypse - stronger and better than the past.* * *Warning: This is a Reverse Harem Romance with mature content.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”