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A War for a Place to call Home: First blood

Sarus Fortress is a titanic bastion of stone, steel, and sorrow—an ever-expanding bulwark built by the Bullard Empire to encircle the accursed island at the world's end. Beneath that island’s ashen skies lie the shattered hearts and skulls of three dead gods, whose corpses still fester with divine malice. From them crawl endless horrors—monstrosities birthed from madness and spite—that claw relentlessly at the walls of reality, seeking to unmake all mortal life. To sustain the fortress and fund the eternal war, the empire long ago enacted the Tithe: a grim tradition that claims lives in lieu of taxes, conscripting men, women, and children alike into the grinding teeth of its war machine. Here, survival depends not only on strength, but on adaptation. Soldiers wield heirlooms that are passed through blood , channel blessings from careless gods, command alien spirits, and harness Mori—the lingering essence of the dead. Through the Bonding ritual that is performed by the followers of the great unison the graft the flesh of the enemy onto their own in desperate bids for power is common place . And yet, despite all this, the dead gods’ corruption spreads. This is the tale of five conscripts claimed by the Tithe—five souls bound not by blood or banner, but by the absence of home. A salt miner who murdered his kin to claim their mori-born magic. A disgraced noblewoman clawing her way back from exile with charm, spite, and ambition. A glass-winged pixie the size of a thimble, who named herself after her favorite animal and chose to follow humans out of love. A disillusioned blessed Apothecary who seeks a purpose as he lost his. A Veteran soldier born into the Fortress who has undergone the Bonding more times than she can remember, all to live up to the memories of her parents. Together, they are thrown into the gullet of war not as saviors, but as offerings. Whether they will survive—or change the shape of the world in their struggle—is a story still unfolding beneath the an unending sky.
Duckspuck · 3.7K Views

Grind-to-Cash System: Buy SSS Skills to Spam them Infinitely with Cash

"They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.” (Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.) You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing? The MC who never laughs. Never feels. Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence. He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.” He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.” He never flinches, never laughs, never lives — And you call that strength? Funny. Because to me? That’s just a prison in disguise. You see an “alpha.” I see a boy too scared to feel anything real. While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice, I’m already making the Saintess scream, drenched in sin, halo cracked, legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her. And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control. I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh. I didn’t need to dominate her mind — I freed her heart. But that scares people, doesn’t it? Because readers trust the ones who suffer. Who stay quiet. Who kill without blinking and love without showing it. But me? I flirt. I laugh. I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry. I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness. I weaponize mine. Pleasure. Connection. Laughter. That’s my arsenal. And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves, Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems, I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again. You call that luck? Nah. That’s mastery of the three worlds. Because in a world that respects coldness, I came in hot. Where others manipulate, I connect. Where they posture, I play. Where they sacrifice, I seduce. So go ahead. Call me a simp. But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny, I’m the one making goddesses question theirs — with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets. I’m not the hero. Not the villain. I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.
Idiocrat · 116K Views

Transmigrated into a Hermit type MC

Alexander was someone you may call a maniac. When people ignore bullies or maybe get bullied by them, he loves to offer them a UNO Reverse card. He would bully them. Then he somehow transmigrated into the cultivation world, where bullies exist at all types and all levels of society. Here he was taken off the morality shackles he had on Earth. Here he can bathe in the thrill of freedom to the extreme. But every story starts with some problem and this is about the previous transmigrator of the body he is currently in. Yes... "Transmigrator". The previous host of the body was a transmigrator who got transmigrated into this body but is a f**cking moron. The previous one, Jiang Hao, was a hermit. He was a coward. He would cultivate in secret and never show his powers to the world and would even let a weakling slander him. But he will tell himself that the world is dangerous and it's better to avoid trouble. But... he died. And he didn't even know how he died. But Alexander finds out that this man has been sitting on a gold mine that can make him powerful beyond belief. His system, when exploited by the loopholes, is so overwhelmingly powerful that it can answer any and all questions a person has. ------------ Original Novel: CULTIVATING IN SECRET BESIDE A DEMONESS. You.... yes you.... you know how painful it is right? ------------ When someone has been on WebNovel for some time and has read all the good novels there are, they will start to read garbage-level cultivation novels. I too am such a poor Daoist. After wandering in the heaps and heaps of garbage cultivation novels, I accidentally read a poison and felt like my brain cells were screaming at me in my mother tongue, to stop reading and just.... let go. And I did let go, but the amount of garbage written in that novel got to me every night, and I couldn't hold it in anymore and decided to write a novel, about how I would react if I had all the powers that piece of **** had. This is the result. A novel written to vent my soul out. ----------- This is a weak to strong type novel but the MC will not be a weak will individual, even in the first chapters. So there won't be any character development where the MC will go through troubles and harden his resolve. He was born a Chad. Period.
RefinedPoison · 26.6K Views
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