The Peerless Emperor - Chapter 5 - Saint Soul Crystal

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…

I turned my assassin into my maid with the power of money! Money is all-powerful!

It was a world full of swords and magic; Lawrend was the son of the wealthiest merchant in town. Since the age of 7, he had been having dreams. A dream about a past life in a modern civilization where monsters are nonexistent, and humans dominate the world. Lawrend saw Iron birds, Magical bricks that display moving paintings, Thunder wielding, and many more.

There was a scene in one of the dreams that made Lawrend’s heart beat fast. A row of a dozen maids bowing in front of him. Each dressed in a french maid outfit.

Something awakened inside Lawrend when he had that dream. A fervent desire to have his very own Maid Harem!

"What you do in life, Echoes in Eternity."

The System, who goes by the code name, Thirteen, defied the System God in order to give his previous Hosts’ the chance to change their Fates.

Unfortunately, he was killed by his Father, the System God, and was sent to the world of Pangea to struggle like the Cannon Fodders that he fought so hard to protect.

Armed with his knowledge as a System, Thirteen vowed to change not only his Fate, but the Fate of others whose destinies were tied up with him.

In a world torn by power and corruption, a fallen System will bring out a symphony of change, or lead it to its destruction.

[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.]

******

“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.