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Ruler Of Sea

Across the Huron Sea: Lust For Life

Seized by a panic such as she had never experienced in the 21 short years of her life, Mira scrambled against the man's grip, and a whiff of blood mingled with an intoxicating scent of cedar. “Shh,” he murmured, lowering his head. Pressed against his firm chest, she gulped at the dark red seeping through his shirt ivory white. She risked a glimpse up. Under a silver-black phantom half mask was a sculpted face, strands of jet-black hair sweeping his cheeks. Contrasting his pale complexion were those burgundy red lips, above which, a straight nose cast a shadow on his thin eyes the color of onyx. He glanced down at her, his gaze otherworldly. “If you’re thinking of getting on the back of the truck,” he wheezed, his larynx heaving. “Bad idea.” Deep like the rumbling sea and magnetic, his gravelly voice threatened to drown any audience. ----- History repeats itself. In a world ten thousand years after ours perishes, the planet is ruled by the First World, consisting of the Commonwealth and the Republic across the Huron Sea. 21-year-old Mira de Armas must escape the Commonwealth after a posse of vigilantes who called themselves the Reds started a revolution and persecuted her stepfather till his death. Disguised as a boy, she smuggles herself to the Republic. As she tries to escape from the Customs, she is caught by the most wanted man of the First World, the last drug lord who has taken out all the Republican cartels. The man offers to take her to safety in exchange for helping him to a bunker and treating his wound from the gunshot. Left with no choice, Mira joins forces with the man and learns that he is Dr. Warshon Qusbecq, a renowned physician by day. As their journey uncovers old memories and reveals the conspiracy behind the election of the First World Premier, their relationship evolves from suspicion to mutual dependence and affection. Through intellectual sparring and the exchange of personal stories, they reveal emotional vulnerabilities to each other that they hide from the rest of the world. Drawing on her own experiences in the Commonwealth, Mira sees the truth as she falls into the dark: that darkness exists exactly because the light is shining and enjoyed on the other side. I hope you'll enjoy this romantasy.
Ali_Gin · 13.9K Views

Birth of the Ruler: The Emergence of the Primordial Race

Tags: Celestials, Demons, Titans, Magic, .... Before Earth’s destruction, Zion was involved in a tragic accident that caused his soul to escape the planet. This event spared him from witnessing the catastrophic disaster that annihilated all life, leaving no living creature behind. However, Earth and every soul connected to it underwent an on imaginable distribution as they got refined by the Celestial being for its mysterious purpose. Both souls and matter were erased from existence. After 1,000 cosmic years, Zion was reborn as a Titan, a member of the legendary Primordial Race. Myths tell of how, after creating the Seven Heavens and the Seven Hells, the Cosmos populated them with two opposing forces: the Celestial Race, who adhered to cosmic laws to refine their divinity, and the Demon Race, who defied those same laws in their pursuit of power. But the Celestials and Demons were not the Cosmos’ final creations. A third race was unintentionally born, the Primordials, beings capable of bending the very laws of reality. Feared for their overwhelming power, their existence threatened the delicate balance of creation. To prevent chaos, the Cosmos sacrificed itself, using its own essence to seal the Primordials at the edge of the Void, far beyond the reach of the heavens and hells. Zion, born as the first true Primordial through natural birth, an act that defied cosmic laws, became a member of the Nihiliths, a noble Void Primordial clan. His unique existence granted him unparalleled abilities to manipulate the fabric of reality itself, marking him as a being of extraordinary potential. But his life was far from easy. The Celestials and Demons, unable to rival the Primordials’ power, discovered loopholes in the ancient seal. Out of envy and greed, they began abducting newborn Primordials, exploiting their essence for twisted experiments, weapons, and forbidden alchemy. Zion uncovers a dark truth: the destruction of Earth was not a natural catastrophe but a calculated act to prevent humanity’s evolution into a race capable of rivaling the heavens. Now, Zion must rise as the leader of the scattered and sealed Primordials. He must unite his people, protect them from the relentless schemes of Celestials and Demons, and uncover the secrets behind the Cosmos’ ultimate sacrifice. To reclaim the Primordials’ rightful place in the universe, Zion must embrace his full potential, even if it means bending the laws of creation itself and challenging the balance of existence. releasing days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Primordial001 · 115.6K Views

Re: I Became The Ruler Of The Dragon Empire!

Jared Vortigan was once the greatest general Earth had ever seen—a man whose name alone struck fear into his enemies. He was a legendary warlord, a master tactician, and a tyrant on the battlefield. He crushed nations and rewrote history with his sheer will. But in the end, betrayal came from within. Poisoned, hunted, and left for dead by those he once protected, he died with a vow on his lips: "If I return, the world will kneel." But fate had greater plans. Jared awakens in a new world as the last surviving heir of the royal dragon bloodline. The once-mighty Dragon Empire has been exiled for eons, cast into the Hell Realm by the Celestial Accord. Their lands stolen. Their people cursed. Their legacy reduced to ash. But dragons do not beg. They conquer. With the weight of a fallen empire on his back, Jared must unite the scattered clans, crush those who dare oppose him, and exact vengeance on the Celestials who cast them into exile. And the first thing he sees? [Ding! You have awakened the Draconic Evolution System.] A system that will push him beyond mortal limits, unlocking the forbidden power of dragons long thought to be lost. But then, a second notification appears. One that makes his heart pound with an unfamiliar thrill. [Bloodline Limit Broken. Awakening… Forbidden Authority: World Eater.] Jared's breath stills. World Eater. A power that should not exist. A power even the gods fear. And now, it belongs to him. ... Kingdom Building? Yes. Ruthless MC? Yes. Romance? No. Insane Dragon Evolutions? HECK YES! [WPC Entry! All Support would be appreciated!]
DungeonHunter · 529 Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 706.5K Views
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