MTL - Global Blessed Land: I Can Add Attributes On The Buildings - Chapter 1 Open the blessed land

One god, one faith, one world, one mage… I am the only mage in the world.

- Description from Ptwxz (translated)

I am reborn as a minor character and the mother of the main character, the deposed ruler Leriana Ashford.My husband's younger brother will stage a rebellion against him, and only my young children will manage to escape. And the unfortunate Queen Leriane faces a bleak end. According to the plot, my heroine will sacrifice her life during the rebellion to save her children.Except she won't! Dying at twenty-seven is too soon for me and I'm going to change the tragic plot of this novella.I was lucky enough to be reborn ten years before the events of the novel began. At a time when the future King Philip and his brother Razor had just fallen in love with me at the Royal Academy, and their fight for me led to a feud. To survive - I decided not to become queen and live a quiet life with my father the Duke. And in order to rid myself of these two, I had to go to extreme measures.I decided to start dating the daughter of the cursed Duke, who is feared and hated by the entire academy.

The devil would love you only in his own way: “Remember, don’t look at me, don’t hold me, and don’t kiss me! Turn your face away, as long as you lie down obediently and quietly! ” Just lie down obediently? What did he take her for? An inflatable wife?

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.”