【Clawphire's Rules】
First, mocking Servia's fear of the dark is forbidden.
Second, mocking Servia's fear of thunder is forbidden.
Third, mocking Servia's fear of both darkness and thunder is forbidden.
A smooth, broad road stretched from the left side of Clawphire's territory to the garden at its end, flanked by silver maple trees standing tall, their leaves shimmering with a metallic sheen on windless days.
Farming, blacksmithing, tending horses, baking—
Everyone on this land had their role to play.
But before long,
The air grew damp and chilly, sunlight dimmed, and vast clouds swallowed the sky, drowning fields and mountains alike.
"Is it going to rain?"
"Quick, close the windows for Lady Servia!"
Inside the manor's garden, two maids stood guard by a wooden door. Seeing the darkening sky outside, they quietly entered the room to shut the specially designed soundproof windows for the young girl.
They also turned on the lights to keep the room from growing dim.
The entire process was carried out in silence.
From entering to leaving, even the shift in the room's brightness, none of it drew the attention of the girl on the bed.
She lay on her stomach,
Her petite frame sinking into the soft mattress.
Propped up on her elbows, she occasionally flipped through the storybook before her. When particularly engrossed, her legs would paddle up and down like oars against the white bedding.
"Yes, just like that!"
"Shuka the Brave, seal away the evil Headless Knight with your holy sword!"
"Charge!"
Tiny Servia cheered loudly.
Her eyes followed the story's plot, conjuring vivid scenes of fierce, heroic battles as she imagined herself as the world-saving protagonist.
By the climax,
She was already standing on the bed.
Gripping a wooden toy sword, she swung it with exaggerated flair.
"Whoosh—"
"Ha—"
"It's time! Brave Servia, unleash your ultimate holy sword and save the world!"
"Evil-slaying, holy-light cross slash!"
The young girl brandished her wooden sword like a fledgling bird flapping its wings, her soft, clumsy movements utterly endearing.
Especially her exaggeratedly serious expression—
It was enough to make anyone smile.
At the very least, the two maids outside the door exchanged amused glances.
"Lady Servia is adorable."
"Being her personal maid is the luckiest thing in my life."
Their hushed conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of a turning doorknob.
Before the maids could react, the wooden door swung open, and a small figure dashed out of the room, toy sword in hand, sprinting toward the manor's entrance.
"Lady Servia, wait!"
"Please, slow down!"
The maids hurried after her, calling out with outstretched hands.
But Servia, caught up in her excitement, wasn’t listening.
Brimming with energy, she charged forward, gripping her "holy sword" tightly: "Brave Servia, it's time for your grand adventure! Onward!"
Her childish voice rang with fragile confidence—
A confidence that soared with her sprint but plummeted the moment she saw the storm-darkened world beyond the door.
"BOOM!!!"
Lightning split the sky.
Thunder rolled across the land.
Torrential rain poured down in furious sheets, a blinding white curtain roaring from the heavens.
The sheer, overwhelming force of nature instantly doused Servia's tiny burst of courage, leaving her hesitant and shrinking back.
"Lady Servia!"
Finally catching up, the maids sighed in relief when they saw her frozen at the threshold, not daring to step into the storm.
Just as they moved to pull her back inside, Servia turned on her own and retreated toward her room.
"Lady Servia, are you not going out anymore?"
"N-no! I can’t make Father and Mother worry."
Her reply was earnest,
Her footsteps quickening with each distant rumble of thunder.
The maids trailed behind, struggling to stifle their laughter. Try as they might, little Servia was just too precious.
Fortunately,
They were professionals.
Keeping their expressions neutral, they escorted Servia back to her room, preparing afternoon sweets and a fresh picture book of heroic tales.
A child's mind is simple.
Soon, the storm outside was forgotten as Servia nibbled on treats and lost herself in stories of valor.
Tales of salvation and chivalric virtues etched themselves into her heart, guiding her into the future.
The rain ceased.
The winds stilled.
As the sky cleared, little Servia dashed outside once more.
This time, the maids didn’t stop her, only smiling as she ran off.
"Charge! Charge! Charge!"
Her small figure wobbled across the wet grass,
Her wooden sword flailing wildly, knocking down the overgrown blades with clumsy swings.
Before long,
Her platinum hair clung to her forehead, damp with rain and sweat.
Her bright green eyes grew weary.
"Servia, why are you out here again?" A noblewoman approached, scooping the girl into a gentle embrace.
"Mother, I—" Servia panted, "I’m training to be a brave hero!"
"Is that so?"
"My Servia is so impressive."
The woman laughed, carrying her back toward the manor. "Such a hardworking girl deserves a reward."
Tall black iron gates, entwined with crimson roses, dripped with rainwater, each drop tapping the ground below.
Sunlight pierced the clouds,
Streaming through the gaps in the gates,
Illuminating the stone path beneath mother and daughter.
"Mother, what’s my reward?" Servia asked eagerly.
"Something you’ve been looking forward to."
"A giant cake from the capital?"
"Not quite. Something even better."
The noblewoman wore a mysterious smile.
No matter how much Servia pouted or pleaded, she refused to reveal the surprise.
Only when evening fell, during the Clawphire family banquet, did Servia’s father—the current Grand Knight-Lord of Clawphire—unveil the truth.
"Servia."
"Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin knightly training."
"Breathing techniques, combat skills, horsemanship—all of it."
"If you refuse, now is the time."
His gaze was tender,
Reluctant to see her suffer,
Yet respecting her choice.
Servia didn’t hesitate. She made her decision like a true hero: "I’ll do it! I’ll become Brave Servia!"
The wooden toy sword became a heavy knight’s blade.
Elegant dresses gave way to sturdy steel armor.
Clawphire’s emerald jewel shone among the stars and mountains, her countless sword swings earning her the kingdom’s honors and acclaim.
A rising star, celebrated and adored by her people.
The young knight bowed her head,
Her right hand gripping her sword across her chest,
Her left lightly tracing the blade.
Unconsciously, a faint smile touched her lips.
But just as she turned toward the manor, the idyllic scene shattered.
The sky turned grim, the earth barren.
Space itself fractured, revealing a wasteland of bleached bones—a vision of apocalypse.
"Great Sorcerer..."
"Will I... never see everyone again..."
The helpless voice echoed through the decaying mansion.
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.
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.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
saw a female celebrity tied up and stuffed in the trunk! Little did he know, countless cameras were aimed at him at this moment - this was a new type of reality show. The first randomly selected passerby was caught in less than an hour. But when Xu Moru was selected, things started to take an unexpected turn. "Damn, this isn't how the script goes. This Xu Moru is too bold, he's not following the rules at all." "Crap, is this guy taking it seriously?" "The female celebrity has been scared to tears!"
