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King Of Martial

Martial Union

The drums of war thundered across the plains of the Wan Shui Empire. At the forefront stood a lone figure draped in silver armor, his crimson cloak dancing with the wind. His gaze, sharp as a dragon’s claw, swept across the battlefield. His name was Huan Bai — the War Demon, the youngest divine general in the empire’s history. At fifteen, he had silenced rebel cities. At twenty-two, he led men against beasts that tore mountains apart. At twenty-seven, he ascended to the rank of Divine General, one of only three in the entire empire. His name was etched in legends, sung by poets and feared by kings. But even war gods have hearts. In a rare moment of peace, the general crossed paths with Wu Hua, the flower of the Xiantian Sect. Graceful, serene, and unshaken even by his terrifying presence. Love, unexpected and fierce, bloomed like wildfire. They married in the spring, where cherry blossoms rained like snow. On his thirty-second birthday, the war demon smiled brighter than ever before. His son, Li Bai, was born under a sky filled with stars, as if the heavens themselves bowed in blessing. But fate, as always, was cruel. In the same year, during a border negotiation with the Tiansha Empire, General Huan Bai was betrayed and captured. His soldiers returned without him. His armor, broken. His spear, snapped. His fate — unknown. And as if destiny wasn’t yet done, Wu Hua vanished days later. No body, no trace. Only silence. The empire grieved its war god. But not all shared in the sorrow. Young Li Bai, now the son of a "fallen hero" and a "runaway woman," grew under the weight of whispers and cruel laughter. “A cursed child,” they called him. “The disgrace of a vanished bloodline.” But in the stillness of rejection, something stirred. On the eve of his seventh birthday, when the cold moon was high and dreams were thin, Li Bai sat alone in the courtyard of the orphaned manor. No one celebrated. No one remembered. And then — boom. A sudden pulse. The earth trembled. The stars above flickered strangely, as if acknowledging a forgotten truth. From within Li Bai’s core, a spiraling path of light and darkness emerged. It did not follow the known elements. It was not fire, not wind, not sword, not beast. It was something much more mysterious..... Unseen by all, the world had changed. The spirit child had awakened.
Ozoth · 3.6K Views

KING OF Sin

Twelve-year-old Arthur knew nothing of the horrors lurking beyond the veil of reality—until the night they came for him. His home became a slaughterhouse, his family erased by monstrous entities that defied comprehension. He should have died with them. Instead, he was taken. Dragged into an abyss beyond human understanding, Arthur found himself imprisoned in a realm ruled by three beings who called themselves gods. They toyed with him, pushing him past the edge of despair, waiting for him to break. But some souls are not so easily shattered. In the depths of his suffering, something ancient stirred within him—the Eye of Wrath. A power as insatiable as the hatred burning in his heart. With it, he turned from prey to predator, slaughtering his captors and clawing his way back to a world forever changed. But revenge is never so simple. The power he wields is not unique. It is one of seven Eyes of Sin, relics of a forgotten war, cursed gifts passed down through those fated to defy the natural order. And he is not the only one who bears them. The truth unravels before him through Camila, the Chronicler of Sins, an enigmatic guide who speaks of a greater battle—of eleven hidden clans moving in the shadows, of the coming war against the Soul King, the last guardian standing between the world and eternal ruin. Arthur is no hero, but fate has bound him to this conflict. He possesses Three of the seven Eyes, an anomaly in a game rigged by forces far beyond him. With enemies closing in and allies as dangerous as the foes he faces, Arthur walks the razor’s edge between salvation and damnation. The path ahead is drenched in blood, betrayal, and the cold certainty that power demands a price. But in a world where strength is the only law, the question remains—will he be the one to change fate, or merely another pawn swallowed by the abyss
Hunter888 · 36K Views

The Age of Martial Enlightenment.

In the beginning, mankind was weak. Prey to beasts, to plague, to the winds and whims of the heavens. Kingdoms rose and fell like sandcastles at the edge of a storm-tossed sea. Swords rusted. Kings bled. No one was beyond death. But then came the Nine Pillars. Forged in the twilight of the ancient world by nameless sages who pierced the secrets of heaven and earth, the Pillars were not structures of stone, but of spirit, flesh, and will. They were paths—painful, ruthless, divine paths—by which a mortal might climb beyond the chains of his body and seize dominion over it. The First Pillar, Strength Refinement, marked the beginning of the path. For ten years, a cultivator would temper their raw might until their muscles became as iron and their blows could break boulders. From there, the path only grew steeper. Flesh Refinement hardened skin into armor. Muscle Refinement made each sinew a coiled spring of destruction. Tendon Refinement—the Fourth Pillar—turned movement into mastery, footstep into flight, swordplay into something near divine. And beyond that? Bone, Organ, Marrow, Blood, and finally, Meridian Refinement—the ninth and last Pillar—was said to bestow eternal life, peerless power, and the ability to shatter mountains with a breath. At its peak stood the Martial Emperors, titans in human form. Yet such beings were as rare as phoenixes. Each Pillar demanded a toll of decades—forty years for the Fourth, ninety for the Ninth—but time given was returned a hundredfold. A cultivator aged slower, lived longer, endured more. But few ever had the resolve—or the years—to climb far. This was the Age of Martial Enlightenment, where kingdoms no longer measured greatness by armies or coin, but by the strength of their cultivators. Martial sects rivaled noble houses. Swordsmen wandered the land like demigods. The strong dictated truth, and the weak obeyed.
AshuraDaoLord · 6.6K Views

King Of Hearts [BL]

Hao Lou screwed up. Massively. One moment he was tossing a book to scare off some thieving celestial monkeys. The next? Boom. The most sacred artifact in the heavens—the Golden Book of Matrimony—was flying straight into the Mortal Realm's Doomswirl Portal. “NOOOO!!” he shrieked, sprinting to the edge of the spiral. “I’LL GIVE YOU MORE MELON SEEDS, JUST GIVE IT BACK!” The monkey? Unbothered. The book? Gone. Just like his job, his status, and possibly his immortal soul. Because if the Heavenly Emperor found out? Hao Lou was going to get demoted. Not just demoted-He was bound to be reborn as a chicken. Over. And over. And eaten every single time. “NO. I’m not getting deep-fried for this!” he shouted, stomping around the Eternal Spiral like a lunatic. So he did what any responsible, panic-stricken deity would do. He slapped a note on his front door: “CULTIVATING. DO NOT DISTURB. And with that, he jumped into the swirling cloud of doom. Now stuck in the modern world, he has to retrieve the scattered pieces of the Book of Matrimony before the heavens catch on—and he ends up on a dinner plate. But locating the divine artifact isn’t so easy... Until he meets a strange young man. One who, for some reason, can actually see the lost fragments. With this mysterious human’s help, Hao Lou begins piecing the book back together. Everything seems fine until— “Wait,” Hao Lou gasps one night. “What is this… why is this young man hugging me from behind?!” Now he’s asking the only place he knows for answers. “Asking this online: why is my friend/coworker trying to kiss me at night? Seeking answers…”
Lullabybao · 9.9K Views
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