Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master - Chapter 232 The Church (2)

In a world where Classes, Stats, and Levels are the everyday norm, Reivyn has a secret.He was unusually aware of his surroundings from an incredibly early age, and Skills and Stats were acquired easily. He was just the son of an ordinary village family, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary on the surface. But below the surface, dreams of another life help shape his mentality and growth. Why does he have some remembrance of a past life, and what is his purpose in this new one?“Soul of the Warrior” is what I call a Semi-Isekai LitRPG. I say “semi,” because Reivyn's past life is remembered like a dream, and very incomplete. It is still Isekai, though, as he remembers enough that it directly shapes his personality and his sense of self.The System that governs the world of “Soul of the Warrior” is a combination of modified versions from Selkie's “Beneath the Dragoneye Moons” and Kosnik4's “Magic Smithing.” I have changed enough of these Systems and combined them in a way that is unique that I'm mostly sure it's fine, but I still have requested permission to use these ideas. They have both graciously granted me permission.Winner of the April Writathon Challenge.

The once revered Alchemy Emperor returns to his fifteenth year. In this lifetime, he not only seeks to rectify all past regrets but also aims to achieve the pinnacle of martial arts!Compared to cultivation techniques? My lackeys have divine-level technique in hands.Compared to elixirs? My top-tier elixirs are fit only for feeding dogs.Talents? Any genius who encounters me will find their fate crushed!Prosper under my lead, oppose me and meet your demise!

Once upon a time, a hero had been summoned to a different world in order to defeat the demon king. After the war stretching 3 years ended the commendable hero slew the demon king. And he was forcibly deported back to earth after being dismissed.

Such bullshit!

Elves in addition to beast race, dwarfs and demon race. Even though I wanted to make a harem in the different world I saved! My dream will not come true on earth, where there is no magic at all. Thus, the hero returns on his own. Without the blunder of being extradited to earth this time, he will build a harem of his own in a different world.

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.