Versatile Mage (Web Novel) - Chapter 3162 Encountering the Divine Wood Well Again

The Baron’s daughter, Alessandra Barrett, has worn a mask from a young age due to an injury. Many say if you were to see the face behind the mask, you would be cursed and die soon afterward. She is seen as a ghost, avoided by all who visit the baron’s home until she becomes the Duke’s wife.

No one could understand why the Duke would pick such a wife. Did he wish to die?

What would become of the girl who once hid in the shadows but now had the spotlight on her as the Duke’s masked wife?

What would everyone say if they were to learn the truth that she was in a contracted marriage with the Duke?

Why build a harem……when you can steal everyone else’s?Rejected without confessing. Friendzoned before even speaking.Too bad for them—he’s done being average.Armed with a system that thrives on charisma (even if his starts at rock bottom), sharp tongue, and unmatched game sense, Eiden isn’t here to play nice. He’s not the hero, not the villain—he’s the damn glitch in the story.The protagonist ?? He’ll outwit them.The arrogant beauties? He’ll make them kneel.The childhood sweethearts, the princesses, the cold beauties?They’ll come to him. Willingly.This isn’t your story. It’s his conquest.And no harem is safe.

What would you do if you found yourself trapped in a world of a game?Would you panic?Rejoice?Just give up?This is a conundrum I found myself in after waking up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with no clue of how I got there.Magic powers?I had none of those…A cheat-like system?Nowhere to be found.All I possessed was a single skill that seemed meager at best…[ Shadow Manipulation ]

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.