The Monarch - Chapter 77: Tournament

On this continent, all creatures had a chance of evolving into dragons.

It was said that every life had their own Dragon Gates. After crossing it, they’d become like the sun and moon in the sky, dazzling gloriously.

That also applied to humans.

Humans’ Dragon Gates were becoming Dragon Tamers.

Searching everywhere for young spirits close to dragonizing, and training them into unparalleled Dragon Kings!

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Shivam was just a normal guy.A government employee finally living a stable life after surviving an orphan’s hell and fighting tooth and nail through every damn obstacle life threw his way.He love anime, web novels, and his one true obsession light novels.His favorite?Transmigrated as a Third-Rate Villain.The plot? Fire.The fights? Insane.The worldbuilding? God-tier.And the characters? Untouchable—especially Marcus Ardent and Daelen Vorcrest, the last heroes of mankind.But then came the final chapter.Marcus dead. Daelen gone. The entire continent, erased with a single, lazy keystroke.“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”“What kind of brain-dead garbage ending is this?! You killed everyone for shock value! You threw away the best characters like trash!”Shivam didn’t just hate-comment the author. He cursed them.Then went to sleep.And woke up as Ezra Celestrian.The most forgettable side character in the novel.A man who was supposed to be dead.Only… something’s wrong.Ezra isn’t weak.He never was.He was the strongest human side character in the novel—so talented, the author killed him early to keep the power scaling in check.But now Shivam is him.And the story is no longer in the author’s hands.“Why the hell do I keep talking like a noble?”“What the fuck is this ‘Divine Enemy’ trait!?”The world believes Ezra is dead.But Shivam’s done playing along.“You dragged me into your broken story. You killed my favorite characters. You erased everything I loved for a cheap twist.”“Fine. I’ll fix your mess. I’ll rewrite your story.”“And when I find you, ‘Author’—I swear to god, I’m gonna shove that ending down your throat.”

I met the male lead in prison.

On the night of Xiao Ke’s thirtieth birthday, he shared a table while drinking. The person he shared the table with was a cool man who fit all of his aesthetic desires. It was practically love at first sight.

He was thirty; he had reached that age where he was no longer the awkward twenty-something youth. He would pursue the one he liked without hesitation, no questions asked.

“I want you to give me a tattoo. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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