The Princess And The Lord - Chapter 1367: Evaluation

It started off peculiarly; first, his domestic cat refused to let him cuddle it.Lin Qiushi soon found that a sense of disharmony and incongruity began to pervade everything around him.Then, one odd day, he pushed open a door, and he discovered that the hallway he was familiar with turned into a boundless corridor.At both ends of this corridor were twelve, identical iron gates.he pushed one of the doorsThus, the story begins.Disclaimer: The content presented here is not authored by me. I kindly request that you extend your support to the original author by visiting jjwxc.net.Original Author Name: Xī Zǐxù / 西子绪

“For those who dare call themselves gods, I, Wen Ran, will crush their legacy beneath my feet. Even dogs are more honorable than those filthy bastards!”A feared Godslayer, who, due to betrayal, perished under the might of the heavens, having his world destroyed. Saved by a mysterious system, Wen Ran was granted a second chance at life but reincarnated in the body of a lowly slave. Hunted by the gods who sought his head, Wen Ran vowed to reclaim his title by showing heaven his vengeance as a 'God Slayer.'

Sometimes dying isn’t even the worst part of your dayMark has been reincarnated into a dead town in a bog, one that has been recently destroyed and occupied by ravenous undead. They disappear every day and return again at night, mindless and hungry, hunting for any survivors. He’ll need to use cunning and subterfuge to avoid them, because since he was transported into the body of a child, he can’t level up. At least not yet.Bog Standard. It means “totally normal”, right? But for the small towns found in these bogs, there's no quick rescue and not much trade. Everything has to be made to last. To them, it means “excellent quality”. Mark will have to prove he's Bog Standard if he hopes to survive.This is an Isekai of excellent quality. It’s a progression fantasy set in a LitRPG world, rags to riches with an eventual OP main character. The pacing is slow-burn, incremental progression, sometimes slice-of-life, punctuated by moments of intense violence and possibly traumatic content.

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”