Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam - Chapter 11: "3 Knights

Damien was reincarnated as the villain in a shelved novel. He find himself on a wedding scene where the protagonist was destined to rob the marriage.He smirked while looking at the proud protagonist and arrogant heroine.Aren't you proud and arrogant? Let you know the consequences of offending the Villain!Destroy the background behind you and capture your family!Don't you love her? Aren't you the son of fortune? Kneel Down!!Now the choice is yours! Do you choose your family or the heroine?“Hehehe didn't the heavenly dao want to suppress and kill me? Let's see how I will play with your chosen 'son and daughters' to death! When the auspicious time will come, I will kill you too!!!”

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

- Description from Novelupdates

Seven years ago, after their breakup, he disappeared without a trace.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.