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Kamen Rider Ooo Rider Kick

The Princess and Her Rough-Rider Khan

Petite Princess VS Rough Khan On their wedding day, Yelu Yan told Li Xianyun that apart from affection, he could provide her with endless wealth and honor. After the marriage, he indeed kept his promise, cherishing her in the palm of his hand. Little did he know, the more he cherished her, the deeper she burrowed into his heart, right to the very top. Not long after the political marriage with the Khitans, Li Xianyun gradually noticed earth-shattering changes around her: Initially, the commoners who disliked her began to worship her as a deity... The court officials accusing her of bewitching their lord were now pleading with her to consummate the marriage with the Khan... The most perplexing of all was her husband in name; wasn’t he the one who said he wouldn't give her emotional affection? Why was he always following her around? Little theater scene 1: One day, Yelu Yan cornered Li Xianyun against the wall. “Why are you avoiding this Khan?” “They say you might have taken a liking to your servant.” “Remove ‘might’, isn’t it obvious enough from how this Khan acts?” “But you said you wouldn’t give your servant emotional affection.” Yelu Yan held his forehead; he had indeed said too many foolish things. “The Han people always say that one should start a family and then establish a career; clearly, the two are not in conflict.” Little theater scene 2: The sun had risen high, yet Yelu Yan was still clinging to Li Xianyun. “Get up quickly, I have to leave. There are patients on the street waiting for my consultation, the good fields to the west need irrigation, the homestead plots in the east need measuring, and I have to oversee the silk reeling and dyeing... Uh...” “Your husband is a patient, don’t you care for him?” Li Xianyun looked at the man tough enough to rival ten bulls and was utterly speechless.
Fruit Jelly · 806.4K Views

Exo Seeker: The Strongest Human Woke Up In The Future!

Kael Draven, the strongest human who fought against the Anthi-Org—a universal threat set on conquering the universe—was betrayed by one of his own when victory was almost within reach. He and his allies were known as the Exo Primevals, the first to wield an Exoskeleton suit known as Aegis Prime—a powerful piece of equipment created by the most advanced species to finally destroy the Anthi-Org and end the war. But with his teammate betrayal, Kael was sealed away in impenetrable ice, his people’s planets fell under enemy control, and the Anthi-Org rose to dominance. The Exo Primevals were forced to retreat, doing what they could to salvage what remained of their worlds. Countless lives were lost. Centuries passed, and Kael’s icy prison eventually shattered. The strongest human—or what used to be—woke up in a future he barely recognized. Learning that the Anthi-Org won, Kael is now driven by revenge. He vows to find the one who betrayed him and finish what he started. The war may be lost, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be reignited. --- Additional Tags: Cold blooded protagonist, Smut, S*x Scenes, Antihero, *sshole Protagonist and more, mainly for flexibility. What to expect: This novel is LitRPG. If you are a fan of Power Rangers/Kamen Rider, Warframe, and other Suit related novel/movies/shows then this is for you. Try to read for at least 20 chapters and see if this novel fits your taste. It's slow at first as the world and structure of the story is forming along the way.
Lncea · 30.1K Views

A Throne For Sister: Rise Of The Dragon

Eirik Boris was never the type to accept a deal nor offer quickly, but with the girl in front of him, the riot that’s currently going on in the kingdom, and the rumor of the old king's bloodline, there are just too many things at stake. He looked at her with his eyes full of doubts, knowing very well that not only his life was at stake, but his region, too. But at the same time, if the girl in front of him is who she claimed to be, then a new beginning shall begin in the kingdom. It will be a new dawn of glory, a new turn—around, especially for the commoners. With a sharp blade in her hand, unlike anything Eirick had ever seen, which had a crystal that had a glinting red onyx at its end, the girl stepped into the long, narrow bridge, ready to prove that she was from the bloodline of the old king. “If you fail, I’ll surely deliver you to the king myself.” Eirik made it sound like a warning, and like he was not interested in her at the same time. But deep down, Eirick cared. If this girl turns out to be carrying the blood of the old king, then things will turn around for great. And if not, then he’d gladly deliver her to the king. At least, by doing that, he’d still have to keep his head, his family, and his region. And maybe, just maybe, the king will give him a limited punishment, but not a death sentence. “I won't fail,” Eirick heard her replying without turning, her voice full of uncertainty, though. Eirik held his daughter's hand, leading her back slowly, his armor bearer following, and then the nobles, a hundred of them who had come to watch the so-called girl who claimed to be carrying the blood of the old king venturing to the narrow bridge where she would recover what was left behind by the Old king himself. Before the old king vanished, he had said that only his true bloodline could cross the narrow bridge and retrieve what he had hidden there. Many people had come to attempt it, all of them claiming to be the son or daughter of the old king, and all of them had failed. This girl won't be an exception, at least, that's what they thought, not until the unexpected happened. As usual, the ghost guardian of the bridge, a being forged from magic with extraordinary abilities, emerged from the chasm of the bridge, standing tall and proud in front of the girl with a rapier in his hand. He didn't give the girl a chance to blink; he charged, the sound of metal against metal filling the air, sparkles flying out, and groaning of the two filled the atmosphere, too. And then, when everyone thought the girl would fail like the rest, they noticed her body shimmering, a great aura coming out of her body like a mist, her hair flaring in flame like a ghost rider, but she was not. And then, the blade radiated extra light, before the girl took full transformation herself. She easily bypassed the ghost as he presented his attack, moving with the grace of a leaf dancing in the wind, but in a blur that everyone hardly saw her moving. Before the ghost could wheel to face her, the girl struck him hard at the temple with the hilt of her blade, followed by a kick in the chest, which sent the ghost tumbling down the bridge. Normally, a ghost shouldn't feel attacked or get hit since he's partially invincible, but the girl was not ordinary either. She’s from the lineage of King Saul, making her the rightful heir to the kingdom of Agapanthus, and she just proved that to everyone by defeating an undefeatable foe.
Memento_01 · 1.4K 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 · 704.8K Views
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