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Hair Drill

Taming the Empire's Ruthless Monsters as My Beast Villain Husbands

[ Mature Audience Only (Dark Fantasy Romance) ] The woman sat still, legs crossed, a hand resting lightly on each leash. The chains led downward — left and right — disappearing beneath the black folds of her throne. The only sound in the room was the soft clink of metal against the stone floor. On her left knee, the leash was taut — held firm in her fingers, black leather wound once around her palm. The chain stretched to the man kneeling below, his head slightly bowed, thick black hair falling across sharp golden eyes. The lion insignia gleamed darkly against the collar at his neck. On her right, the second leash hung more loosely, though not by much. The man it led to sat still — silver-haired, pale-skinned, his chest rising and falling with quiet restraint. The panther emblem at his throat shimmered under the torchlight, his ice-blue eyes locked ahead, lips drawn in a silent snarl. Both were silent. Both were beautiful. And both were leashed. The woman, however, did not look at them. Her gaze was locked forward — on the man kneeling in front of her, hands tied behind his back, posture proud despite the blood at his lip. The green-haired man tilted his head back and laughed. “Shame,” he said, the sound echoing in the chamber. “The Emperor of the North and the Southern Duke… reduced to nothing more than pets. Is that what you do now, Leash Mistress? Break kings and chain them at your feet?” The woman didn’t blink. Her eyes stayed fixed on his. But the panther shifted slightly, the chain tightening an inch under her hand. The lion growled, low and deep. The green-haired man smirked wider. “Dogs. The both of them. Well-trained, I’ll give you that.” “Cats.” Her voice was soft, but the room fell silent. She leaned back in her seat slightly, her fingers curling around the leashes as if they were natural extensions of her hands. “They are cats. And tell me…” Her head tilted faintly, just enough to be unsettling. “Isn’t it wolves who become dogs? Not lions. Not panthers.” The green-haired man’s jaw clenched. '!' drip A sweat bead fell from his forehead, trickling down through his cheek as his eyes trembled. The green pupil held cunning and shrewdness to escape any unknown path as the assassin mercenary group's leader trembled, not because of the woman, but because of the man standing beside her who looked at him. The man with the black hair and golden eyes glinted sharply at the command of the collars pulled, and even the one with the silver hair, glinting with sapphire eyes, directly at the green-eyed man caused him to tremble in his whole being. He knelt with his head turning down as he realized, while his wolf insignia glowed near his ear. He would be leashed soon like them. He would become the dog under her leg... the dog he had just laughed at.
K1ERA · 3.3K Views

Demonic Skeleton God

❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗ Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly. Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders. Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend. The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat. Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face. Before bed, Flain cried. "I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves." Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on. At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation. In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death. Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant. Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander. But one day, everything changed. Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.
Morfus · 126.6K Views

Celestial Academy of Mystics

What if you wake up on the morning of your fifteenth birthday to discover a system screen floating over your head? It means you are a Mystic, one of the hundred people born each year who have access to the Celestial system and powers of the universe. What if when you go to get registered as a Mystic at their Academy you discover that all the slots are taken? There are already a hundred mystics in the system. You are a strange anomaly that has never happened in a billion years. Well, you must be none other than Xavier Xerxes. The weird teenager who was bullied for his strange white skin, long snowy hair and pink eyes is now also a Mystic who shouldn't exist. It couldn't have gotten any worse for him. Now he has to attend Celestial Academy to get basic training in leveling up and growing into the full potentials of his powers so he can slay demons and battle monsters from real to realm. He has the opportunity to grow from a human to an Immortal, saving the world along the way. Cool, right? But there's one little problem. Xavier doesn't do anything that could pass off as stressful. No, he prefers to read books in the library. He loves to write stories and poems. He cries through romantic movies. He has never walked farther than a meter in his life. No sporting activity whatsoever. He hates violence. Now they expect him to carry a sword. He is supposed to turn his body into a weapon of destruction, and his mind into a fortress of power. What the hell? How is he expected to survive a day at Celestial Academy when he has been home schooled since he was a child? How is he supposed to kill a bloodthirsty troll when he is scared of spiders? Exercise drills, push ups, war games...meditating? Never before in his life! Right. We all have to wait and see. Hopefully he'll find a way not to die on the first day.
Percy_Seacrest · 245.8K Views
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