The Regressor and the Blind Saint - Chapter 232: Advent (2)

Mira is determined to be a botanist—no matter how dangerous or violent it may become. Mira made two requests upon entering the multiverse: a botany class to further her research and to be dropped off in an isolated forest far from the violent god-rearing system BS going on. She was granted both—but not in the way she expected. The system abandoned her in a hellishly dangerous forest—where she earned a rare class that excelled at killing things.

A wise man once said all roads lead to Rome. He didn’t know how right he was.Ripped away from the battlefield, Tiberius and his six thousand Roman Legionnaires unexpectedly find themselves stranded in a foreign land of magic and witchcraft. With no way home, their path forward is obvious: conquer everything in sight.Much to the chagrin of Marcus—the poor, unsuspecting bard who summoned them.But taking over the world is not so easy. In order to stake their claim, the Legion will need to learn how to navigate the strange magics and abilities this new world has granted them. Abilities which, upon closer inspection, may prove the seed for a legend in the making…The dawn of a new empire looms on the horizon. Rome will rise anew as they seize cities, battle armies, and expand their territory across this strange and fantastical world. All the while, Marcus will need to figure out how to mitigate the force of nature he's unleashed upon his woefully unprepared world. That, or simply enjoy the front row seat to an epic in the making. Someone will need to tell the story, and who better aside from him?The die has been cast. The aqueducts are being built. And Rome will once more see glory.

The eldest son of the assassin aristocrat Tuatha Dé.

The skill, experience, knowledge of the previous life, magic, all of which grows his power as an assassin.

Excellent assassins pass through. He was usually admired as the ideal lord, and behind it wielded a blade as an assassin aristocrat.

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”