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Ice Age Surviving Sid

A Song for The Ages

Everything in existence sings, the whisper of wind, the pulse of steel, the hum of the unseen. Reborn into a world of cultivation, Cai Feiyin awakens with a gift unlike any other, the ability to perceive the oscillations of all things. To him, the world is a song waiting to be understood, shaped, and mastered. But in a realm where power is forged through blood and will, those who hear too much may uncover truths never meant to be known. And some songs, once played, can never be silenced. *** I plan to write this story to completion, and based on what I have in mind, it will span at least 1,000 chapters. The first 20 to 30 chapters will be a bit slower-paced (more of a slice-of-life) to establish the foundation of his childhood, but once the story picks up, it won’t be slowing down. What to expect: A grand, dark immersive cultivation world with a mix of both eastern and western influence, that is gradually unfolded as the story progress (with eventual mythologies involved) A calm, intelligent protagonist with the ability to perceive the oscillations around him A unique cultivation system with my personal blend of Xianxia and eastern/western fantasy A weak to strong, to strongest MC (OP) Alchemist MC (with clear progression, involving both pills and artefacts, eventually leading to Runes) Fully fleshed-out characters, with their own life and dreams Eventual kingdom-building *** I'm writing this story on both RR and SH. I also have a P@treon if you love the story and want to read ahead ;) (Though I will never restrict any content behind a paywall forever) p@treon.com/RaizellV (simply replace the @ by an a to access)
Raizell · 1.6K Views

Surviving A Women's World

When seventeen-year-old Lucien Haruto Maris — a socially awkward but brilliant prodigy with a mind built for strategy, games, psychology, and war theory — dies in an accident, he opens his eyes in a place far removed from anything he's ever known. He's no longer in his own frail body... but in the muscular, wounded shell of a dying man sprawled in a muddy trench surrounded by the scent of steel and blood. The world around him is medieval — swords, castles, horses, dirt roads, and politics steeped in steel. But something is very wrong. Here, women rule everything. Kings are Queens. Generals are Matriarchs. Knights ride in plate armor with long hair braided in the colors of their house. Men? They are property. Spoils of war. Breeders. Pets. Playthings. Rarely educated, often silenced. Their worth lies between their legs, not between their ears. Worse still: the body Lucien now occupies belongs to a rebel, a once-prized consort of a Duchess who betrayed the crown and paid the price. He should be dead. Instead, Lucien wakes up with a second chance — and in a world stacked entirely against him. Armed with only his genius, his virgin awkwardness,combat experience of his new body and a deep knowledge of human behavior, Lucien must navigate a world where a smile from the wrong woman can be lethal... and a clever lie can buy him power. He'll play the fool, whisper poison in powerful ears, seduce with strategy instead of strength, and build a following of dangerous women who believe they control him. They don’t. They’re playing checkers. Lucien is playing goddamn 5D chess.
BozleyLaZagne · 3.2K Views

WarLords : Ice Viking's

The cold stone hall was dimly lit with flickering torches. Shadows stretched long across the floor. At the far end of the room, the King sat high on his throne, surrounded by High Lords, Generals, and Counselors. Silence hung thick in the air as the Ice Viking entered. He stood in the center, arms at his side, eyes forward. “Viking,” the King called from his seat. Varnok didn’t move. “Yes,” he replied flatly. One of the High Lords stood up in anger. “In the presence of your King—you kneel!” The knights draws their Swords. Varnok stayed still. “You’re not my king,” he said calmly. The King raised a hand. The knights lowered their swords. “Let him be,” the King said, leaning forward. “Ice Viking… step forward.” Varnok walked slowly across the cold stone floor. “There is war between the Vikings and this kingdom,” the King said. Varnok kept walking. “It’s your kingdom,” he answered. “That has nothing to do with me.” The lords murmured in outrage. “You think they’ll stop there?” the King asked, raising a hand for silence. “You know what those animals are like. Vikings… they don’t stop until they’ve burned everything to ash.” “And yet I’ve protected the village just fine,” Varnok said. “Without your help. Like it’s always been.” “Without my help, there’d be no village to protect,” the King snapped. “There is a village,” Varnok said, meeting his eyes. “And not once have you offered it your help.” “King... please. What an excuse.” The king nodded toward the general standing beside him. Without hesitation, the general stepped forward and struck Varnok across the face. Then a second punch to the stomach. Finally, a heavy kick to the leg. Varnok dropped to one knee. “Good,” the King said, tipping his goblet and pouring wine over Varnok’s head. “Like the animal you are.” Murmurs filled the hall. > "What an animal." "Fits clearly—a dog." "All Vikings should just die." "Disgusting things." The King laughed with joy as he was Pleased by the words of the people. He leaned forward again, with his voice low. “Maybe we should start with your wife… and child.” The room fell into a deadly stillness. Varnok’s eyes snapped open—glowing bright, ice-blue. A shiver cut through the entire hall. The ground began to vibrate. Goblets trembled. Torches flickered lower. Then came his voice—cold, deep, inhuman. Like the cracking of ancient glaciers. “If a single breath so much as brushes their skin…” “I will bring down such ruin upon this kingdom that even the crows will starve for lack of flesh. I will freeze your rivers. Silence your bells. And watch your palace rot from the inside—As your screams echo in halls no one dares enter. Pray your tongue forgets their names… before I remember yours.” No one moved everywhere was silent. Even the air seemed too afraid to stir.
vickysfantasy · 8.7K Views
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