Cultivation Through Artifacts - Chapter 258 - Punishment

“You wouldn't force me, would you? I thought you hated me,” I plead.“I do,” Matthew hisses, his eyes flashing dangerously as he rips open my dress.Sarah Wilson's dreams of a perfect marriage shatter as Matthew's hatred for her is revealed on their wedding night. She had always loved him in secret, but now she realizes the ultimate truth - he despises her.Will Matthew ever see past his bitterness and realize they are meant to be together? Or will he make Sarah suffer until death finally separates them?

I possessed a character with an intelligence of 100 in a classic medieval fantasy land-grabbing game. An intelligence score of 100. That meant my predictions were always accurate. However, since I was physically weak and didn’t quite understand why that was the case, I thought it best to just live quietly. But then… leaders who began to recognize my ability started to become obsessed with me.

Travelling across a different dimension, you have become a noble who has fallen from grace. With the help of a proficiency panel, you can start your liver experience using the ancestral breathing method used by knights. Let us embark on this bizarre and mysterious journey and follow this wizard’s steps one by one.

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?