Since there was already an extra Liyana, Mida did not mind bringing Luo Lun and Mo Lini along as well.
"Thank the great Liyana, you are basking in her glory." Liyana patted Mo Lini's shoulder, her tone carrying an exaggerated sense of bestowing a favor.
Mo Lini looked at Liyana with a gaze as if looking at an idiot.
"That little look in your eyes really is exactly like Moke's... Have you been possessed by Moke? Hahaha, just kidding."
Liyana laughed to herself, reaching out to rub the top of Mo Lini's head. "After all, you are so cute..."
Crunch— Mo Lini suddenly raised her head and bit Liyana's palm.
"Ah!"
"Moke... no, Mo Lini! Let go! Let go of your mouth!"
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
"Who taught you this trick!"
Mo Lini opened her mouth, tilted her little head, thought for a moment, and replied earnestly, "I just suddenly wanted to try biting... Maybe ancestor Moke taught it to me in a dream."
Liyana shook her hand. On her fair palm, there was only a row of shallow teeth marks. "How is that possible! I do not believe in such absurd things..."
"Do you need healing?" Musen emerged without warning from the open pages of a book, which startled Luo Lun.
Liyana glanced at Mo Lini. "No need, the skin is not even broken... Moke used to bite much harder than this little girl."
The little red beast blinked innocently.
Liyana felt she had been careless lately, even forgetting to keep her guard up when petting this guy's head.
From now on, she would have to use the touch method to pet her.
Mida let out a lazy yawn and curled up into the warm blanket. A pair of delicate dragon wings folded, completely wrapping her small body, and even her head was buried inside, looking like a pitiful little ball.
Mida was ready to rest.
Suddenly, Mida raised her head, then stood up straight again, and walked outside.
"Mida, what are you doing?" Liyana asked.
"Going out to play."
Liyana stuck out her tongue. Mida obviously did not want to tell her, but this excuse was a bit too far-fetched.
Leaving the room, Mida fluttered her small wings and flew away.
"Aina, does that child have something on her mind?" After Mida left, Liyana turned to ask Aina. "For a sensible and introverted child like Mida, keeping things bottled up inside all the time will cause problems."
"Although Mida is a child, she is no longer a little kid." Aina gently shook her head. "She will handle her own affairs well, you do not need to worry."
Liyana nodded; she was just giving a well-intentioned reminder.
Being the child of Aina and Xia Lun... the pressure must be really great.
...
"It is really cold, this godforsaken place..."
"Once we finish this job, we can go back and enjoy ourselves... The gold coins from those noble lords are enough for us to squander until we are in our graves."
"Is that not the truth? I really do not know where those nobles get so much money..."
A sizable party was trekking across the boundless snowfield. Two thick-furred snowfield beasts of burden walked with steady steps, pulling two sleds, treading on the soft snow as if walking on flat ground.
The snowstorm had stopped, making the journey much easier.
Pierrel half-leaned inside the carriage, a longsword propped in front of him. His sinister gaze looked through the somewhat cloudy window at the vast expanse of the snowfield outside.
He was the captain of this operation.
They were not adventurers, but a group of mercenaries... Their purpose in coming to the snowfield this time was not to subjugate ferocious monsters, but for a much more despicable deed—capturing Snow Spirits.
Recently, a remote Snow Spirit tribe was discovered. There were not many people, and it seemed they had not gathered for long. Moreover, it was not deep in the snowfield, not too far from the Yalan Empire... Most importantly, this tribe had not yet been marked on any known maps. This meant that even if it disappeared from the world, it would be as silent as a melting snowflake.
The slavery treaty had already been abolished, so this was naturally an illegal act that could not be brought to light. If the guys from the knight orders knew about it, they would definitely be hunted down to the ends of the earth.
But as long as they were not discovered, there would obviously be no problem.
Alien slaves were quite popular among the nobles, serving as capital to show off their strength and wealth.
Secretly, the illegal things those nobles did went far beyond this...
"Phew—"
Pierrel breathed out a puff of cold air and took a large gulp of strong liquor. The spicy liquid rolled down his throat, burning his stomach and bringing a trace of brief and false warmth.
"Boss, I heard those Snow Spirits all worship some... Snow God, who is that Demon King. If we attack the Snow Spirits, will we not be targeted by them?" A subordinate approached, his voice laced with hesitation.
Pierrel sneered. "How is that possible? How could such an existence care about such a petty squabble? Do you think His Majesty the King would care which peasant family lost a chicken?"
"That is true..." The subordinate scratched his head. "It is just... I feel a bit creeped out. This is the first time doing such a thing."
"Are the Snow Spirit slaves in the black market not all from the snowfield? Just do it cleanly and it will be fine. I have never heard of anyone having accidents." Pierrel looked at his subordinate as if looking at an idiot.
The subordinate still felt something was wrong. "Will there really be no danger..."
Pierrel kicked that subordinate away. "Get lost! Cowardly trash, actually afraid of those illusory things... The Demon King, who the hell has seen him? Let those who have seen him come out and tell us what the Demon King looks like!"
"Hahaha!"
Coarse roars of laughter erupted in the narrow carriage, shaking the snow off the roof.
Those who have seen him just never came back, so of course there is no news.
The subordinate thought silently in his heart, but did not dare to continue speaking.
"Boss! We are almost there! The shadow of that tribe is right behind the snow slope ahead!" A lookout's shout came from outside the carriage.
Pierrel was slightly taken aback. He glanced at the conspicuous red circle drawn on the map; it seemed there was still a bit of distance to this place...
The guy who sent the message was really unreliable.
However, the target was right in front of them, and Pierrel revealed a sinister smile.
That tribe actually had no watchtower, nor a gate, absolutely no defenses at all. It was like a skinned fat sheep, waiting for them to enjoy.
Pierrel led his subordinates and charged in.
"Take all the women and children away! Kill the rest! Do not let a single one live!" Pierrel ordered his subordinates fiercely.
The influx of bandits... did not make the village boil over.
Pierrel kicked open the door of a snow house and barged in, only to find it completely empty.
Let alone people, there was not even any furniture, as if the snow house was just an empty shell built temporarily.
The entire village was empty, without the slightest movement.

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!