Transmigrated As My Former Uncle's Sweetheart - Chapter 1098 - He Was Just A Teenager, But He

A frail and often ill son of a wealthy merchant unexpectedly embarked on the path of cultivating immortality while seeking a way to prolong his life!During the Tang Dynasty’s Golden Age, the world was at peace, the climate was favorable, and the people lived in tranquility.One thousand years later, demonic beings devoured the sky, demonic ghosts rampaged, and sorrow-filled cries resonated everywhere.The Journey to the West reappeared, the Great Sage fought against the heavens, the Heavenly Stem descended to the mortal world, reincarnating anew.Mysterious transmigrations and reincarnations, reality and illusions intermingling, truly extraordinary!Is it just a dream predicted in the prophecy? Or a reality that has yet to occur?Can he eradicate the predestined demonic barrier, eliminate the catastrophes of the Three Realms that have yet to occur, and save the people from utter destruction?

Devastated by the death of her destined mate and her family, Reana refused to choose another mate for three years. But with the council breathing down her neck, she had no other choice but to consider her options: Beta Ryan, the one who was chosen by the pack to become her second chance mate.But to everyone's surprise, she chose a servant, Ryder. The pack members and the council were livid. How could they bow to a servant turned Alpha?It was already enough that their Black Moon Pack was magnanimous to strays – in the past, giving them a home and work to help their living conditions, but now, one of such people would become their Alpha? Impossible! No way! What if Ryder was a spy? An enemy in disguise?Meanwhile, Ryder, the servant, was more than that. He was the feared and revered Alpha Snow of the Southern Islands - the dared-devil who was at war with the moon goddess for three lifetimes, just for Reana. And this lifetime, he was going all out, laying all his cards down.Who cares what he has to become just to claim his woman? Since Reana would not marry an Alpha from other packs, yet, was destined to become a Luna, then joining her pack as a 'pitiful' servant was his best bet.***Reana's heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way Ryder said 'My Luna' that sent a shiver down her spine. The possessive undertone was unmistakable, and for a moment, Reana felt a flutter in her chest. She looked away, trying to compose herself. Perhaps, he didn't mean it that way, after all, he was the first to call her that. It was either 'Luna Reana' or plainly 'Luna.'With this conclusion, she turned back to him, her face cold and indifferent as usual, intending to respond. “You're my cho—” She stopped herself, her gaze drifting to the smudge of blood on his cheek. She didn't like the stain; it marred his handsome face like a drop of red ink on a white ceremonial dress.Without thinking, Reana reached out to clean the blood. As her hand made contact with his warm skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through her. Startled and about to withdraw her hand, Ryder suddenly leaned into her touch.Reana's heart skipped another beat. Ryder's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze burning with intensity. “Does My Luna find me worthy to become her chosen mate?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “I think I have good qualities. I don't have a mate, nor have I ever touched any woman. I'm still a virgin…”***Please, check the review and character profile first, then prologue chapter before you dive into the story. It's very, very important.More tags~#Rebirth#Obsession

With a square halberd in the palm, and a red rabbit and horse under him, nowhere can the world go!

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”