Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife - Chapter 25: Dug her own grave

Before Wufu was reborn, she had no idea there was such a thing as rebirth. Only after her rebirth did she realize Heaven must have thought her previous life was too smooth, so it sent her to suffer in this ancient land where morality, decency, and the Female Precepts were held in high esteem, pitiful indeed! From being a master jade carver to having her soul transmigrate into a farm girl with a wretched background, she was bullied and humiliated. Even the bun-selling mother advised her that forbearance is gold? Bullshit! She could endure, but her other identity absolutely could not—robbers, swept away; insults to her mother, you're crippled... Wufu has a saying, for every insult and humiliation, I will repay a hundredfold. But what's with this one? He doesn't bully her; he only wants to sleep with her? And he even dares... to mount her? Well, a lord can endure, but Wufu cannot. Mount him back, life or death, a hundred years, neither owes the other anything!

Destiny splits before me into two unrelated, straight lines:one leading to a palace and city ablaze, the Kingdom overthrown, the Earth bearing suffering, and Life enduring torment in this Fire.And the other leading to the pinnacle of Ancient Kings, where deities in the clouds personally crown me. I don the laurel wreath, basking in the cheers of the mountain. My gaze pierces through the mists of history, my Knights conquer lands for me, my Sword cleaves through obstacles, leading my people to victory.I take up this Scepter, holding the Authority of the World in my hands. I overlook the multitude, altering the course of history.I am Brand, King of Vorn, and this is my Legendary tale..........................Plain version synopsis: This is a story about a Senior Warrior with memories of rebirth, crossing back into the World he once fought for to alter the strands of history and make a mark in the sands of time.

The female lead tormented scum without rest, and the male lead showered her with endless affection.Returning to the turning point of fate, she was determined to strike the supreme with her fists and kick the trash underfoot.Those who had once wronged her, deceived her, and taken advantage of her, brace yourselves for trembling!Watch him and her: not wasting their prime years, hand in hand, they compose a grand wedding!

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]