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Cortana And Master Chief Love

Breathless Blade wielder and divine village chief

In the far reaches of the world, past the scorched ridges and withered bones of civilization, lies Grainshell Hollow, a forgotten village in the Desolate Zone—so far removed from cultivation’s reach that even the wind carries no spirit. Here, life is quiet and brutal. Survival is earned, not promised. Among the drifting ashes and dying roots, a boy is born—small, observant, and eerily silent. His name, like his future, is not remembered by the heavens. One dusk, drawn by an unnatural silence and a flicker of something wrong, he discovers an ancient relic buried beneath the village shrine—a fractured, half-buried fang of something too old to name. It breathes when he touches it. Whispers crawl into his ears. From that moment on, his dreams rot and bleed with visions of storms that devour stars, gods kneeling in smoke, and swords that cry. The villagers begin to vanish. Animals flee before unseen tremors. The sky grows heavy with flickers that move against the sun. The thing in the relic is awakening—so is something older, deeper, watching through the bones of the land. Without cultivation manuals, without sects, without divine bloodlines, the boy must piece together his own path—through instinct, memory, and the broken remnants of a world that abandoned his people. He carves power from stone, learns to move with silence, to cut with weight, and to channel the relic’s breath into his limbs. Every gain costs something—sanity, warmth, connection—but he endures. As the world spirals toward what the old hunters call the Chaos Stage, a time when even gods bleed and stars fall like rain, the boy refuses to run. Instead, he chooses to rebuild—his home, his people, and the land itself. With relic-forged instincts and a blade that does not obey natural law, he leads the remnants of Grainshell against nameless forces that devour truth and corrupt breath. But even as he grows, questions remain. What is the relic truly? Why was it hidden in a place no cultivator remembers? And why do the dead bow to him, even when he has no cultivation name? To survive is not enough. To fight is not enough. He must raise a village that can stand among gods—and spit in their storms. And in the end… how do people call themselves swordsmen, if they do not yield a living, breathing sword?
sunhell · 489 Views

Gwyneth: The Space Master and Her Knight

What if the love you sacrificed everything for was doomed from the start? Born a Space Master, she can only fall in love once. The man she desires chooses another but still sacrifices his life to save hers. Unable to accept his death, the Space Master reverses time, determined to change his tragic fate. But each turn leads her to be reborn in a new place with no memories of the past. Fate keeps pulling her back to the same knight—only for the tragic ending to repeat. After hundreds of rebirths, exhaustion sets in, and she decides to give up on love, willing to live as a normal girl, incapable of feeling anything again. In her final life, she is reborn as Gwyneth, a bitter, disillusioned girl who doesn’t believe in love. She meets Clayton, a senior at the academy, a "good-for-nothing" with stunning cobalt-blue eyes, and though she falls for his beauty, his cowardice repulses her. But Gwyneth’s world shifts when she discovers that demon blood runs through her veins. And Clayton? He’s not the man he appears to be. Will she let her heart be moved once more? Or will she turn her back on love and embrace her destiny? Will she choose to become the Demon Monarch’s heir, conquering all realms, or remain the Space Master, risking everything to protect the world from the demon invasion? Blurp: “Senior Clay,” Gwen said, turning to him, “did you bring any money by chance?” Clayton gave her a deadpan look. “Do you think I had time to grab money when someone kidnapped me in broad daylight?” “For the last time,” she snapped, “I didn’t kidnap you. Why do I feel like you have a personal grudge against me?” “Well, perhaps it's because someone once used me as a betting tool? That was the first time I accepted a girl's confession, and she left before I even got her name.” Gwen flushed, caught off guard by his pointed remark. “Okay, I was wrong,” she admitted begrudgingly. “What do you want me to do to make it up to you?” “You don’t need to do anything,” he said, crossing his arms. “Because I don’t plan to forgive you.” Gwen’s eye twitched. Of all the people she’d met, none were as insufferable as this guy. Her fingers twitched, tempted to summon a fire spirit to scorch him or an ice spirit to freeze him solid. No, perhaps feeding him to a carnivorous plant spirit would be the most satisfying solution. Yet, even in her frustration, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that she didn’t want him to hate her.
VorstinStory · 10.9K Views
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