Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King - Chapter 1094 Hospitable

Crying blood and tears, she pledged a poisonous vow. The gods did not fail her. She was sent back to a decade ago. The legitimate daughter of Jiang family returned from hell.

Forget it, whatever! Since they already claimed that she was a temptress that wrecked the country, she shall overturn the world into complete chaos starting with her beguiling sister, her malicious stepmother, her cruel lover and her heartless family. Let her end the lives that Yama refused to end.

She was a pawn in her past life. In this life, however, the world was her chess board. With an alluring smile and a charming figure that enchanted the entire nation, the red-clothed woman wrecked chaos among the lands. She was a vengeful spirit from hell, determined to make those who wronged her pay in blood.

“I want those who owe me a life debt to hold their hearts out in front of me. I want those who looked down on me to only be able to admire me. I want Lord Zhong Zi to shiver when he sees me. I want to step on this splendid river and mountains!”

— — —

“You are a temptress and I am a thief.” His robe was as dark as the night and his gaze was as cold as the Northern Star. “A perfect match.”

Her red dress was akin to fire, but her heart was the coldest ice in the winter.

He was stoic in his black robe, yet he was willing to warm her frozen heart.

In this life, the elegant man seemed like a snowy bamboo grove with tall, chilly mountains, walking step by step towards her like an unstoppable force.

“Ruan Ruan, if you hate the world, then I shall conquer the lands with you.”

“What if I love the world?” She asked.

“I am the world, so you can only love me,” he answered.

She is intelligent, beautiful, calm, and professional. As the youngest chief forensic investigator for the past few years, her future was very bright. All of this, however, changed with a bizarre time-travel.

“I am Bianca Valestra, Witch of the Frozen Night, an enemy of Humanity. By choosing to follow me, you will be fighting not just humans—but the entire world. I no longer wish to lie to you, Elian. If you wish to walk away or choose another path, I will let you.”Yet the boy shook his head and laid his hand gently over hers.“I am no longer human. I just committed what I think to be genocide. I am not afraid. For you—the one who saved me, gave me purpose, and my only desire—I will fight. I do not care how many come. I will kill them all.”___In the year 2030, everything changed.Portals to other dimensions appeared without warning.We called them dungeons.And from them came monsters that knew only destruction.But in humanity’s darkest hour, a sliver of hope emerged.People began awakening strange abilities—Talents—to fight back.Years passed. A fragile normal returned.Our story begins with Elian Reeds, a teenage student born in this new world—without a Talent.A Defect, they called him. Useless. Broken.That is, until he meets her.A fallen villainess whose name still strikes fear and reverence alike:Bianca Valestra—divine in beauty, and colder than death.This is the tale of their meeting.The chronicle of their journey.And the legacy of their triumph.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”