Previous chapter: Chapter 336
Next chapter: Chapter 338
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... ough we didn’t love each other deeply, we still believed that we were in love.

Well, I didn’t have to hate him. In fact, I did it to him for my own comfort rather than loving him. I did everything I could to avoid being dumped like her. I didn’t jump into his arms because I liked it. I even sold my body to him like a prostitute.

It’s a wild gamble anyway that I bet all my life on the extreme distant chance of success.

For good or evil, my gamble was a success.

Two months ...

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Standing before you are:

Guardian and patron of darkness,

Disruptors and Reshapers of Order,

creator and persecutor of licking dogs,

The tea master, the goddess of the dark night, the nightmares and gravediggers of the gods,

The true ancestor of blood – Charlotte de Castel.

With madness, with blood, with curse, with destruction.

This is a legend belonging to the blood family…

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MTL - After Being Fancied by a NecromancerChapter 85 Cyril who steps on two boats [Blackened version lure]
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Cyril was a Harry Potter book fan. He unexpectedly obtained a chatterbox system that said it would take him to experience the desired Wizarding World.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Was there such a good thing?

However, once the system was finished, he found that this Wizarding World didn’t seem quite right?

Cyril (eyes shaking: Forest monster? Brass steam train? Gloomy wizard’s tower? Wizarding academy of the fittest? This wasn’t right!

System (forcing itself to be calm): Magic creatures! The appearance doesn’t matter! The architecture isn’t the key! It is still a wizarding academy! There isn’t anything wrong with it! Not bad, not bad!

Cyril struggled to make it through the Blackheart Wizard Academy. Fortunately, there was the gentle and courteous chief gentleman to cling to. This was until he found that the handsome chief seemed to be plotting against him…

My god! This seemed to the other identity of the crazy great magician and necromancer?

***

According to legends, the dark, paranoid, crazy and perverted great necromancer rubbed the white and delicate neck of the beautiful young man in his arms and whispered, “My dear, I heard that you have been very close to the commander of the Holy Light Knights recently?

Cyril denied it three consecutive times with an innocent face, “I’m not! I didn’t! Who is talking nonsense?”

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I Fabricated the Techniques, but my disciple really mastered them?Chapter 1177: Extraordinary Tales of the Great Wilderness Universe_5
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Li Xuan found himself in a predicament after transmigrating without the luxury of a system or plug-ins. To evade notice, he took refuge in a small mountain village. However, one day, he was mistaken for a reclusive expert, he was forcefully adopted as a master by an eager disciple who refused to take no for an answer.

Struggling with his moral compass, Li Xuan initially rejected the disciple’s proposal due to his commitment to honesty. Yet, faced with persistent insistence and tempting offers, he reluctantly crafted fictional cultivation techniques. Much to his astonishment, the disciple not only embraced these fabricated teachings but successfully cultivated with remarkable prowess.

Witnessing his disciple’s thunderous muscles, resilient bones, and potent vital force, Li Xuan couldn’t fathom the inexplicable success. Bewildered, he exclaimed, “I fabricated it all! How did you manage to cultivate so successfully? What kind of monster are you?”

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Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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