MTL - Age of Mysticism - Chapter 442 alienate

Everyone in the City of Jing thinks that bestowment of marriage between Xian Junwang and the daughter of the Yi’an Marquis House is to insert a fresh flower into manure.

[Special Containment Procedures]Calamity neared, and a special Containment Subject known as “Bonfire Company” awoke from its slumber, sending out invitation after invitation to join its ranks—“When The Night comes, there ought to be someone to light a fire, to illuminate in all directions.”At the same time, it also brought forth a prophecy.In the year 2044, at the end of a year, a dark disaster would descend from the heavens.

Eighty years ago, Qi Shijiang was a crosstalk artist who was a good performer.

Eighty years later, he borrowed a body to resurrect himself in the entertainment circle.

Despite living again, it’s really not easy to reenter the old profession.

As far as this face is concerned, no one believes that he is talking about crosstalk. No one believes that he does not rely on his face to eat.

– What is the use of this magnificent beauty? ?

- Description from Novelupdates

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?