The Dread of Damned - Chapter 86: Astral knights

After leaving earth in a pathetic way, Asher finds his soul in the body of a baron's bastard son.As the last surviving member of the Ashbournes, Asher must take up the mantle and build his territory or die in the jaws of a beast or the blades of hungry nobles greedy for his territory.Luckily, he did not enter this man-eat-man world without support.[Ding! Soulbinding successfully completed.][Would the host like to upgrade your bronze-ranked butler to a powerful silver-ranked swordsman? Yes or No.]

The young lady who was born in the Tang family and was sent to the Taoist temple for five years was brought back.

Everyone had their own thoughts and planned to welcome the tender, sickly and weak girl, but they did not want to see a bright little bald head.

He also followed them like a small tail all day long, saying that they were dying soon.

In this regard, the Tang family resisted at first, even if it is not cute and soft, it should not be a nonsense little magic stick!

Later, when she saw that the little girl was about to take action after turning the bad guy’s shame into anger, the crowd exclaimed, she held a small whisk in one hand and a small pink fist in the other to “convince people with virtue” for them.

The Tang family who gradually eat soft rice: Really fragrant!

**

The wealthy Rong family has been inherited for a hundred years. It is rumored that there is a noble young master in this Fangshen mansion. He is dressed in Tang suit and has Buddhist beads around his wrists. Everyone is afraid.

One day, on the reclining chair under the pear tree in the courtyard, a pile of plush yarn was placed on the lap of the boy who had always been calm and intelligent.

The guards wondered, this little young master did not touch the spring water with his ten fingers.

Just listen to this gentle question: I’ve been thinking about it, or a plush hat to keep warm, do you think the pink one looks good today, or the colorful one?

Guard: ? ? ?

**

Rong Qing knew from a young age that she was different, that she was too hostile, and that she always wanted to get close.

Until she met Tang Jin holding a small whisk, pressing the ghost on the ground with a hammer, and the ghost fled everywhere, she still remembered that the sea of ​​suffering is endless.

Later, Rong Qing touched the other party’s small bald head, and smiled and pulled her hand: How about going through a pass today, brother?

For the sake of you being so good-looking, Xiao Nian is holding hands, softly and reservedly: Yes.

- Description from novelbuddy

Qin Guan was reborn and sent back to his final semester in High School 18 years ago. Getting a second chance at life, he works hard to turn things around and eventually become a Prince Charming. What will his life be like the second time around? What will he have to go through? How will he succeed in turning from a loser into a Prince Charming?

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.”