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Historic Note To Half Hearted Horde

Endless Horde: Through the Eyes of a Godking

Prime Earth faced a horrible cataclysm several hundred years ago and has now turned into a hub of Demons. Humans who once lived peacefully in this world couldn't do anything aside from trying their best to survive. Now, the only territory they had was a single continent out of the many out there, and it was the smallest one too. Faced with a severe threat to their lives, the world did its best to give humans a chance. Since then, the Human Society changed its standards and power became the most important possession one could ever have. Cedric, an unfortunate man who dealt with bad cards, lives his life as a convict of the Risk Management Center, drowning in his sorrows and bitterly clinging to his worthless life. That's until he was met with a life-changing opportunity that changed the way he viewed this world...literally. Follow him as he uncovers the hidden and unspoken truths about the world he lives in while he fights for survival...through the Eyes of a Godking. *** Hello! Here's another work from yours truly! Thank you for checking it out. Disclaimers: 1. Got the cover frrom pinterest, it's not mine, just edited it out. 2. There will be some errors here and there since I'm still working on my skills, I'll try to minimize them as much as I can, though. 3. I'm pushing for steady updates of 1 ch/day. I'll try to release more but please don't expect it since I have other priorities as well. Ps. I still haven't decided if this is going to be a Harem or not. The story is still in development, after all. But I will update this once I've decided. That's all, Peace!
Hateful_Fellow · 1.4M Views

Half me and half...

"Get your hands off me!" she wrestled against my grip, so I held her even tighter. "Put this on!" I groaned, toiling to keep her in place and wishing again I’d worn the damn gloves. The feel of her warm skin under my arm and palm wasn’t helping my focus. "I'm not taking you home like this!" "You don't tell me what to do!" she snapped, thrashing to break free of my hold as I fumbled with the cloak in my other hand, trying to drape it over her bare shoulders. "I'm not going home! Let me go, I said!" "Did you really think I got you out of there just to let you wander the streets, almost naked, like a lunatic?" That stopped her. "What did you call me?!" "LU-NA-TIC." "You... You…! Take your hands off me, you insolent brute!" Enraged, she yanked her arm too abruptly and lost her balance. I caught her, wrapped her in the cloak, and threw her over my shoulder. "PUT ME DOWN!" She shrieked and flailed, but I ignored her, making my way to the Commander’s house, which, thanks to Braa, was only two streets away. Since the entire population was in the square for the ridiculous festival, no one intervened at the frantic cries of the wild creature. No wonder in the ten years I've known the Commander, I've never heard that he has a daughter. She must’ve been kept locked away. Strangely, she suddenly went still and quiet. Had she grown tired, worried about attracting attention, or finally realized how inappropriate it was to show up at her parents' doorstep in this state? She didn’t seem to care before. With every step, my anxiety grew—she was limp. "Hey!" No answer. Seriously?! "Hey, you!" Nothing. A bad feeling crept over me, so I pulled her off my shoulder and into my arms. Her head fell against my chest—unconscious. "Hey! Hey, you!" I shook her, but she didn’t react. Panic surged through me. Had she fainted? Had I held her too tight? Lifting her more securely, I sprinted toward the Commander's house.
Inemin · 113.9K Views

A Note in the Café

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled through the small café. Mia, a talented but self-doubting columnist, finds solace in her favorite neighborhood café, where the comforting hum of coffee machines and quiet conversations inspire her best work. Across the room sits a reserved bookshop owner with a passion for literature and a knack for lingering in the background. Mia noticed him, how he had a quiet intensity about him that intrigued her. But she was too reserved to approach, so their interactions were limited to fleeting glances and unspoken words. One destined morning, a torn page from reserved bookshop owner's favorite novel flutters to Mia’s feet. Scrawled in the margins is a note that reads: “If we wait for the perfect moment, it may never come.” Assuming it’s an accidental drop, Mia returns the page, only to learn this man left it for her intentionally—a quiet declaration of interest from a man who has admired her from afar. What starts as a hesitant introduction blossoms into a connection neither of them expected. As Mia helped him rediscover his long-abandoned dream of becoming a writer, he teaches her to embrace spontaneity and trust her instincts. Together, they prove that love, like the best stories, often begins with a leap of faith and a touch of serendipity. Set against the warm and inviting backdrop of their favorite café, "A Note in the Café" is a heartwarming tale about finding courage, following your heart, and discovering that the perfect moment is the one you create together.
Rareer_Gem · 4.8K Views

The Monster Hunter's Notes

On the day I was born, my village was struck by a series of bizarre events. First, Old Wang's white-haired dog, which had been with him for eight years, donned a black robe and stood upright, wandering the streets before stopping at my house to bow. Meanwhile, a horde of unusually large rats with blood-red eyes scurried through the streets, gathering at my doorstep and refusing to leave. This unusual sight enraged the village cats, sparking a fierce battle. Contrary to their usual behavior, the rats fearlessly clashed with the cats, leading to a gruesome scene with casualties on both sides. The villagers watched in stunned silence, while the elderly commented that such unnatural occurrences were omens of chaos as per ancient beliefs. That night, the strange occurrences continued with eerie opera singing emanating from an open space near my home. Curious onlookers ventured out only to discover the performers were figures made of paper, and the audience was a motley crew of supernatural beings surrounding a coffin. Inside the coffin, an old woman watched the spectacle with great interest. This sight terrified the villagers, who fled back to their homes, praying fervently for divine intervention from every deity they knew. The entire village, including my family, spent a sleepless night in fear. The following day, the creatures had vanished, leaving behind a mess that confirmed the night's events were not a dream. In rural areas, such supernatural incidents were often taken seriously, causing widespread alarm and speculation about a curse on my family. My grandfather, dressed in tattered clothes, rushed from the mountains and without explanation, began to beat my father and uncles severely, afterwards holding me and weeping bitterly. He ominously remarked that I was born a "bearer of sins, despised by both humans and ghosts," hinting at a mysterious affliction tied to my existence. That night, I developed a high fever and struggled between life and death, with my grandfather and uncles fighting off a malevolent spirit attempting to drain my life force. They fell ill from the ordeal, taking a month to recover. Years later, I learned of my grandfather's reasons for naming me Zhang Jiu Zui, meaning "Nine Sins," reflecting the burdens I carried from birth. Despite my introverted nature, inherited from my father's quiet demeanor, my grandfather took pride in my disinterest in worldly affairs, often taking me to his well-kept but humble abode filled with books on exorcism, folklore, and esoteric knowledge. I spent years immersed in these tales of demons and diviners, shaping my understanding of the world until academic pressures from high school forced me to visit less. My high school years ended in disappointment when illness ruined my chances at university exams, an event my grandfather oddly celebrated as fortunate. After deciding to retake the exams, my life took an unexpected turn when several luxury cars arrived at our village, heading straight for my grandfather's humble home. The well-dressed occupants from the cars approached with formal documents, knocking on his door with a sense of urgency and respect.
jackpoker · 3.3K Views
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