Paragon of Death - Chapter 297 - : Soul fusion

Not for the Alliance, nor for the Horde!

For the justice in our hearts, to seek an explanation for all the innocents, and to fight for those civilians who are ignored by the nobles, Vanessa VanCleef has set a small goal. I want to push Stormwind City first!

Ps: There is an old book with 5 million words, and the quality is guaranteed. Please rest assured to collect it.

Ps: Group numbers 639, 265, 715

- Description from novelbuddy

Ahcehera is a young woman FIGHTING cancer, finding comfort in the pages of her favorite sci-fi fantasy novel. She’s drawn to the villainess princess, a misunderstood character whose life is sacrificed FOR the hero and heroine’s happy ending. Ahcehera hates the unfairness of it all and wishes the princess could have a chance to live her own LIFE.Before she can read the final chapter that seals the princess’s tragic fate, Ahcehera passes away. Her last thought is a wish to rewrite the story, never expecting it to come true.When she wakes up, it’s not in her hospital bed but in the body of the princess herself. Thrown into a world full of political schemes, betrayal, and hidden dangers, Ahcehera is determined to change the princess’s fate. She has the story’s secrets and her own will to survive, but knowing the plot doesn’t mean it’ll be easy to change.Then, the unexpected happens. She crosses paths with a werewolf prince, younger than her and mysteriously linked to the hero. He’s more than just a twist in the story, he might hold the key to a different ending.As enemies close in and the lines between friend and foe blur, Ahcehera must decide. Will she stick to the script or fight for a new ending? One where both she and the princess get the happiness they deserve.Can a story already written truly be rewritten, or is she doomed to live the same tragedy all over again?

Wonder Woman: Why are you Superman’s younger brother? Eric replied: On the first day of travel, I, who was also a baby, climbed into Superman’s baby capsule, pushed him out, occupied the nest by myself, and became a “son of Krypton”.

Superman: Why don’t you save the plane? Eric replied: I will not lift things by stepping on the air.

Batman: Why didn’t kryptonite work for you this time? Eric replied: I originally wanted to get along with you as a Kryptonian, but in exchange it was alienation.

Okay, I’m not pretending anymore, I’ll showdown, I’m a native of the motherland. …… This is a story about a man who was mistaken for a Kryptonian with a template of the motherland, but is actually a sinister and black guy who is doing things in the world of superheroes.

- Description from novelbuddy

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.