Reborn As A Nephilim: The Rise of A Manaless Prince - Chapter 21 Silvanus

Elena, who spent her entire life as a cold-blooded female knight to avenge her family, ended up dying without claiming her revenge. When she opened her eyes she found that she went back into the past. By day she was a lady in a dress, and at night she carried a sword to change history and prevent her family’s destruction.

WARNING: DARK AND MATURE CONTENT. Readers discretion advised.Serena Alaric wanted nothing more than a quiet life, far from the shadows of her family’s dark past. But when masked enforcers storm her home and drag her into the clutches of the Council of Vitae, she learns her blood is the key to a deadly legacy she never asked for.Lucian Draven is the cold and ruthless leader of a powerful mafia syndicate, cursed to endure unimaginable pain. The Council claims Serena is his only salvation. Yet beneath the Council’s polished facade lies a web of lies, experiments, and betrayal that runs far deeper than either of them imagined.Forced into an uneasy alliance and given a time limit to produce an heir, Serena and Lucian must navigate a treacherous world of power and manipulation, where trust is a rare commodity. As they uncover the truth about the Council’s sinister plans, their hatred begins to give way to something unexpected—a bond forged in fire and blood.But with enemies closing in from all sides and time running out, Serena and Lucian must decide: will they fight their fates, or embrace the dangerous connection that could either save them, or destroy them both?

Su Yang was an average university student in Shanghai when he received a system that allowed him to add points to things. The point system provided him with missions and by clearing them, he would gain points.

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.”