Top-notch Master Masquerading As Cannon Fodder Female Companion - Chapter 39

She is a descendant of an Ancient Chinese Aristocratic family. Having just transmigrated into a young lady’s body filled with aphrodisiacs, she had no choice but to pounce at a random man upon arrival.

Hello, my name is Bologue Lazarus, a debtor.The wound on Bologue's face is healing at an observable speed. The blood remaining on his face flows back, and the skin is reattached, as if time is reversing.Faced with the terrified dying demon, he whispered.This is my “blessing”, the “debt” I owe.Sixty-six years ago, with the end of the Scorched Earth Fury, Opus of Oath City rose from the ruins of the Holy City.Sixty-six years later, the Kagader Empire and Rhine Alliance, two colossal entities spanning the continent, are plotting another all-consuming war.Order Bureau, King's Secret Sword, Order of Truth, Corrupted Sect, All Secrets Order... existences hidden in the shadows of history, trying to join this grand celebration.Under the curtain, the devils enjoy the agony of mortals, taste the values offered, manipulate fate, and bestow curses and blessings.Gazing at the mortals who were originally kindred spirits, they loathe and slaughter each other...

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.

In a world where power is stolen from the blood of dead gods, the strong feast, and the weak are forgotten. Dante “the Fox” Hollow knows this all too well—he’s a low-tier Harvester, scraping by on leftover drops of divinity while the real monsters take everything. Quick with a blade, quicker with his mouth, and always one step ahead of trouble, Dante dreams of a day when he won’t have to run anymore.That day comes when he stumbles upon the abandoned resting place of a god—not just any god, but the Trickster himself. A legend, a liar, a master of chaos. And Dante? He’s just stupid enough to take a sip.Now, the hunger is setting in. The whispers in his head are getting louder. The gods are watching, and some aren’t happy. Dante’s power is growing—too fast, too dangerous—but the higher he climbs, the closer he gets to losing himself.Because there’s one rule every Harvester knows: the more you steal from the gods, the less of you remains.And Dante? He plans to steal everything.