Village Head's Debauchery - Chapter 80: The evaluation

Neris Truide was born with the legendary purple jewel eyes of the ancient warrior Elandria. Despite this, her peers at the noble academy bully her mercilessly, destroying her self-esteem. Adopted by the wealthy and powerful duke Elandria because of her jewel eyes, Neris eventually marries Crown Prince Abelus―only to be pushed aside for his mistress Megara, who led the bullying at school. Neris's life ends at age thirty when she is poisoned by her adoptive sister Valentin. However, instead of dying, she wakes up back at age twelve with her memories of her previous life intact. Enrolled at the academy once more, she sets about exacting revenge on those who ostracized, assaulted, and ultimately murdered her. But she didn't expect that in this life, she'd cross paths with Cledwyn Maindulante, the cunning future ruler of the north. As a determined Neris sets out to make her enemies suffer―and prevent her murder―will Cledwyn turn out to be a dangerous foe, or her closest ally ever?************************************************Noticed*- The translation isn't accurate and the language used is considered informal or “messy”.- It's recommended to add this to your reading list to stay updated.- Readers are encouraged to support the original creators by purchasing the official version when it's available.- There are links provided to support the translator financially.- Readers are asked to enjoy the fan translation quietly and avoid causing any trouble or seeking attention.That's all, happy reading everyone!

Stealing Heroine from Protagonist with SystemWARNING MATURE CONTENT!!!!!R-18

The war of gods left the earth no winners, but a broken world.

[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.