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How To Keep Healthy Intestine

How To Evolve A Fireball

In the world of Elka, every awakened mage is granted a Grimoire — a living magical book that records their spells, achievements, and evolution paths. Spells aren’t static. They grow. They branch. They transform. For most mages, spell evolution is a game of instinct and talent — cast more, train harder, get lucky. But Arin Ember isn’t like most mages. He’s not even from this world. Transmigrated from a dying, magicless planet where survival depended on science, Arin sees magic not as mystery, but as code. And he’s obsessed with one spell: Fireball. The weakest, most basic spell in existence — and the only one he’ll ever use. While others chase power through variety, Arin dives into obsessive specialization. He dissects Fireball like a physicist. He refines it like a chemist. And in his blank, silent Grimoire, he begins rebuilding it from the ground up — not just evolving it, but rewriting its magical genome. Because in Elka, every spell is built on a hidden structure: mana-sequence code, a chain of runes and elemental instructions like living DNA. It governs everything — from power output to elemental behavior to spell adaptability. And Arin? He’s the first person insane enough to treat it like genetic engineering. Through experimentation, failure, and relentless theory-crafting, he transforms his Fireball into: A self-replicating flame with controlled mitosis A plasma-based projectile that adapts to air density A sentient spark that learns mid-combat And a superheated core spell capable of atomizing magic barriers They call him talentless. They call him obsessed. But soon, may call him something else: The Father of Spell Genetics. The One-Spell Monster. The Fireball Architect.
SizzlingCoal · 699 Views

No matter the suffering, I decide to keep living

"I will keep surviving... even if the world rejects my very existence." I woke up in the darkness. No warning, no clues. As my eyes adjusted to the strange light around me, I realized—this place wasn’t unfamiliar. Yes, I know this world. This… is the world of a novel I once read. A fictional world, where heroes shine and demons fall. But behind all of that lies a truth never written on any page: This world is hell. The difficulty level? Inhuman. There’s no interface. No hidden powers awakening when I’m on the brink of death. No lucky twist saving me at the last second. There is only pain—raw, relentless, and ever-present. My body is wounded, my mind shattered, my hope torn apart piece by piece… As if someone behind the scenes is savoring every second. And I know who you are. The Author. Yes, you, sitting calmly behind the screen, typing away, Watching me spiral deeper into suffering. You enjoy this, don’t you? Watching me fall. Watching me cry. Watching me break. Maybe to you, I’m just a story. Just a fictional character with no feelings. But I know I exist. And I know this pain is real. So hear me now. I will not die. At least… not yet. Because I will survive long enough—become strong enough—to flip this story on its head. I will live. Not because this world deserves to be fought for… But because I want to hurt you the way you’ve hurt me. So keep writing, Author. Because every page you write… brings me one step closer to taking back my own story.
AlzenAlrynd1 · 1.2K Views

HOW TO DUNGEON!

YOU THERE! YES, YOU! Are you horrendously broke? So broke you're digging through the same pair of jeans hoping spare change has magically spawned? Well, aren't we all? But fret not because we've got a solution so simple, so foolproof, you'll be diving in headfirst before we finish this sentence. DUNGEON TREADING! Sounds dangerous? That's because it is! But not too dangerous! Probably! Anyway, here's what you need to know! 1. Resource Treading - Perfect for the cautious type. Venture in, scavenge materials and raw gems, and get out before the dungeon seals shut and spews out a hundred raging Minotaurs with a taste for human limbs! And you'd be surprised how often this happens!!! Just last week, we got a report about some poor guy who got torn up so bad we had to collect him like scattered loot. I mean, seriously... we found a piece of him on the other side of the dungeon! It was like playing a jigsaw puzzle on hard mode, except instead of a picture of a cat, it was... well... Larry.... that was actually quite traumatic actually— Ahem... 2. Beast Treading - Tailored for the more adventurous types!! Slay the horrors that lurk within: from Solfrit fire ants to full-blown Chimeras! Bring their cores to our front desk AND GET PAIDDDDDDDD!!! ..... So now that you know the rules, join Crosstails, a struggling party that enters the dungeon in search of credits to repay a cosmic being they offended. And as they get swept up within the cruelty of the dungeon, they meet an eccentric knight who may not be what he seems. [DISCLAIMER: Star Idol Inc. is not responsible for any deaths, dismemberments, devourings, disintegrations, or unexpected plane shifts. Tread responsibly.] Additional tags. Dungeon crawling Beast hunting Cooking Pseudo-harem
Jeffery_XXVI · 2.9K Views

His to Break, His to Keep

My hands trembled, my pulse a frantic drumbeat against my ribs as Liam Romano slid the ring onto my finger. White gold. Flawless diamonds. Cold and unfeeling—just like the man who now owned me. For most, a wedding ring symbolized love, devotion, a future built on choice. For me, it was a prison. A silent contract that stripped away my name, my freedom, my very identity. Emily Carter no longer existed. I was Emily Romano now. A pawn in a game played by ruthless men. A caged bird with no escape. I should have run when I had the chance. Now, as the most powerful figures of the New York and Chicago Famiglias watched in chilling silence, escape was nothing more than a distant dream. There were no second chances. No mercy. In our world, a marriage didn’t end unless a body hit the ground—and I knew whose body that would be if I dared to run. This wasn’t love. This was war. A treaty forged in blood. A fragile truce between two criminal empires standing at the edge of destruction. The Bratva were circling like vultures, waiting for a weakness, a reason to strike. And I? I was the peace offering, the price my father had paid to keep our family standing. I should be thankful. That’s what they told me. That’s what my father drilled into my head, over and over again. But gratitude didn’t make the chains any lighter. "You may kiss the bride." The priest’s voice shattered the silence. I forced myself to lift my gaze. Liam’s dark, calculating eyes met mine, void of warmth, void of hesitation. His face, cold and unreadable, gave away nothing. He was a man who had never known fear. A man who didn’t bend, didn’t break. And now, I belonged to him. The world watched, waiting for a sign of weakness. A crack in my mask. I wouldn’t give them one. But Liam? Liam saw through it all. His fingers tightened around mine—a warning, a promise. Then he moved. His lips crashed against mine, not soft, not tender—a kiss of possession. Of dominance. A silent vow that sealed my fate. My body stiffened under his touch, but I didn’t pull away. Because I knew what he was telling me without saying a word. You are mine. And in that moment, I realized something terrifying. I was his to keep. And his to break.
Akash_Chaudhary_0940 · 7.1K Views
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