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... seem casual, he had trampled more than a hundred cultivators to death in an instance.

“Sea of Abyss Master, could you spare me? I am willing to listen to all your orders!” Not too far away from Weather Leaf, Xie Fan immediately transmitted his messages over to the Sea of Abyss Master that was quite close to him. The short and small old man ‘Xie Fan’ looked at the Sea of Abyss Master. His eyes were filled with humility as if he wanted to fawn on the other party. He did not care about his re ...

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What do you mean by you only accept female disciples?Zhang Yuan glanced at the Emperor of a powerful Dynasty kneeling in front of him and his son, the prince is also kneeling beside him.“Master Yuan, please accept my son as your disciple. I am sure that under your care, my son will reach the pinnacle of the Heavens.”Pinnacle of the Heavens? Zhang Yuan turned his gaze to the so called Prince. Talentless, weak physique and sh!t cultivation technique.Tch, worthless.Zhang Yuan then turned his eyes to another Dynasty Emperor “Master Yuan, please accept my daughter as your disciple.”Seeing the gorgeous woman kneeling in front of him, Zhao Tian smiled faintly.Talentless? I will make you the most talented mortal entity this world has ever seen.Weak physique? I will give you a physique that will break even the limitations of the heavens and earth.Sh!t cultivation technique? Don't worry, choose the best divine technique you want.Sorry but I only accept female disciples!

Fatima: The Slave PrincessChapter 95 - 94
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Following her attempted assassination, Fatima found herself amidst a meticulously staged slave auction orchestrated by her mysterious rescuers in the capital city of a prospective ally empire. Now a slave of the Kartier Duchy, her life as a princess seems far behind her as she spends her days toiling the farms under the scorching sun. Just when all hopes seem to be lost, Fatima’s painful days eased upon meeting the strikingly handsome heir of the Kartier duchy along with his cold and seemingly gruff knight. Will she ever overcome the shackles of slavery and return home to reclaim her title or will spend the rest of her life enduring the cruel treatments of the duchess? Torn between a charming heir and a dubious knight as her potential escape routes, which hand will she grasp?

MTL - I’m In Douluo, I Ate the Blue Silver EmperorChapter 244 season finale
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This book is also known as “I Eat Soul Beasts Raw”, “I’m Really Not Twin Martial Souls”, “Suck! The Blue Silver Emperor smells so good” “Tang San, I’m really sorry! “” Tang San, this is how the blue silver grass is used! “…

Each soul master level can only absorb one soul ring?

Find an ultra-small soul beast, can it still run if it eats the soul ring directly?

Mo Bai, who has a modern mindset, never thought that he would become a foodie one day.

But… really fragrant, especially the blue silver grass guarded by Tang Hao, really fragrant!

There is no twin martial soul, and there is no need for a master to teach.

The hunting of soul rings does not depend on the age, let alone the accompanying soul skills, but only on what kind of evolution the absorbed soul ring can bring to the martial soul itself!

Mo Bai, who also awakened the blue silver grass spirit, told Tang San with the facts, the blue silver grass spirit is not what you use!

ps: There is already a finished copy of the boutique Douluo “The Douluo from Blowing Up the Soul Ring”

Friendly reminder: This book is not an opening flow, and it is not the beginning to eat the Blue Silver Emperor!

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THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
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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.”