"A priest?"
Liyana couldn’t possibly associate the hulking mass of muscle before her with the image of a priest.
"Are you sure you’re a priest and not a monk or a berserker?" Liyana eyed Musen’s bulging muscles and gleaming bald head, unable to hold back her skepticism.
Xia Lun’s clothes looked comically small on Musen, straining against his physique as if they might burst at any moment.
Musen grinned, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth. "Being a priest is my profession. Bodybuilding is just a hobby… Besides, enemies tend to target priests first. But if I look like this, they’ll think twice before messing with me."
Liyana blinked. That actually made sense!
Without hesitation, Musen began gathering the equipment scattered on the ground, each piece coated in some foul, unidentifiable fluid.
The gear had been corroded beyond recognition by the stomach acid of the land dragon, rendering it completely useless.
Then, Musen raised a fist the size of a sandbag and slammed it into the ground, sending debris flying and shaking the earth beneath them.
"Is this guy really a priest?" Moke muttered in disbelief.
Soon, several large pits dotted the ground.
With solemn reverence, Musen whispered the names of his fallen comrades and buried their equipment in the makeshift graves.
A few simple memorial mounds stood in their place.
Musen then knelt, closed his eyes, and recited a eulogy for each departed teammate, a faint white glow enveloping his form.
"Now I’m starting to believe him," Liyana said to Moke.
As Musen finished his rites, Aina approached from a distance.
"Thank you, miss… I assume it was you who slew the land dragon and avenged my comrades." Musen bowed slightly toward Aina.
Aina gave a curt nod, offering no words.
Despite his brutish appearance, Musen was surprisingly meticulous and well-mannered.
Unarmed and technically a "frail" priest, Musen humbly requested to join Xia Lun’s party temporarily, asking for their escort back to the city.
Xia Lun had no reason to refuse.
Musen proved to be quite the conversationalist, easily bonding with Liyana and Moke. When something amused him, he’d let out a booming "Hahaha!"
Aina trailed silently behind Xia Lun, her gaze fixed solely on him.
Xia Lun had grown accustomed to it—Aina seemed to harbor some inexplicable obsession with him.
Curious, Liyana asked, "Musen, how long were you inside that land dragon’s stomach?"
Musen shrugged. "No idea. It was pitch black in there—hard to keep track of time. What’s the date now?"
"May 3rd."
"Damn, I’ve been swallowed for two months!" Musen exclaimed.
Moke chimed in, "That thing really took its time digesting you, huh?"
Musen scratched his head. "Who knows? Maybe the bastard was constipated."
Liyana and Moke burst into laughter.
"By the way, Musen, since you’re a priest, you must know healing magic, right?"
Liyana extended her hand, revealing a few shallow bite marks. "I got bitten earlier. I treated it myself, but it’s still a bit itchy… Mind fixing it for me?"
"Of course, happy to help."
Musen examined the wound, then frowned. "What kind of monster left these marks? I’ve never seen anything like it…"
Moke’s eyebrows twitched.
Liyana chuckled. "Don’t worry about that. Just heal it for me, will you?"
A milky-white glow emanated from Musen’s hand, enveloping Liyana’s wound. The marks vanished without a trace.
"Wow! Now that’s a professional priest!" Liyana marveled at her flawless skin before shoving her hand in Xia Lun’s face. "Xia Lun, look! It’s all better!"
Xia Lun sighed. "Yeah, yeah. What’s your point?"
Liyana leaned in and whispered, "Should we recruit Musen into our party? We don’t have a priest, and he just lost his team…"
Behind them, Aina’s brow furrowed.
Xia Lun grimaced. "Just lost his team"? That was tactless.
"You know how rare priests are. Most parties have to pay a fortune to hire one. Extra security never hurts… Right, Aina?" Liyana turned to the mage.
Aina scoffed. "I don’t get injured."
Liyana blinked, unsure what she’d done to upset the noble mage this time.
"Liyana… Whether Musen joins us isn’t just up to me," Xia Lun said, patting her shoulder. "He just lost his comrades—now’s not the time to ask. If you push him, he might agree out of obligation, but it’ll leave a bad taste."
"Got it, Xia Lun." Liyana sighed. "You always think things through."
"Because Xia Lun is the leader," Aina interjected coldly.
Liyana shot Xia Lun a suspicious look, as if questioning what kind of spell he’d cast to make Aina side with him so fiercely.
Once back in the city, the group dispersed—though Liyana stuck with Xia Lun, and Aina lingered nearby.
Watching Aina’s ghostly presence trailing behind them, Liyana shuddered.
"Xia Lun… Did you do something to her? She’s acting weird," Liyana whispered.
"Really? Seems normal to me."
"Come on! She’s been staring at you nonstop. You seriously haven’t noticed?"
"Fine, I’ll ask her."
Xia Lun wasn’t one for beating around the bush.
He stopped in front of Aina, who stiffened slightly.
"Aina… Do you have a problem with me? Or is there something you want to say?" Xia Lun met her gaze squarely. "If there’s an issue, just tell me. I’ll fix it. I don’t want misunderstandings or grudges to drive you away."
"I… I’m fine. You’re overthinking it," Aina muttered, avoiding his eyes. "I don’t have any issues with you. I’m not leaving the party."
"Good to hear." Xia Lun exhaled in relief, flashing a bright smile.
Aina’s pulse quickened inexplicably.
This was new.
Had he noticed because she’d been staring too much? How embarrassing… Was this shame?
As expected of the Hero—her rival. An impeccable man, capable of stirring even her emotions.
Aina's lips curled into a faint smirk.
As expected, sneaking into his team had been the right decision...
Only someone like him was worth defeating.
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!
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.”
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
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.
