White-Robed Chief - Chapter 11

Transmigrated into a flesh ball, my father swung a sword to chop me, why does this storyline seem so familiar?Have I become Nezha?A great cultivator from the Earth's end-times era transmigrates into Nezha. Watch as the young man navigates the prehistoric world, cutting through illusions, slaying dragon sons, subduing the Dragon Palace, and breaking heaven's barriers!

Masaru Ryunosuke is an outcast—a scholarship student in a school of elites, struggling to keep his head down in a world that looks down on him. But when a chance encounter with a vampire attack leaves him at death’s door, he wakes up to a new reality—he's no longer human.Now a ghoul, the lowest rank of undead, Masaru finds himself thrown into a world of ancient bloodlines, deadly supernatural creatures, and secret organizations hunting beings like him. His only guide? Akane Mikazuki, the cold and ruthless noble vampire who saved him, but only for her own mysterious reasons.Armed with the Cape of Dracula, an artifact of legendary power, and an unnatural potential that defies vampire logic, Masaru refuses to accept his fate as a weakling. If the world wants to treat him like a mere undead—then he’ll rise above them all and prove them wrong.As battles erupt between vampires, werewolves, assassins, and monstrous beings, Masaru must claw his way up the supernatural hierarchy before he’s devoured by forces beyond his comprehension. Because in this world, the weak exist only to be devoured.But what happens… when an undead refuses to stay at the bottom?

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

I am a princess, moreover, I am a fool of a princess.

Born in the imperial palace, my appearance is as average as that of the white radish and cabbages in the fields. Throughout the four seasons of the year, my face is always displaying a dull expression, eyes forever shrouded in haze.

But in reality, I know of the secrets within this palace.

Including hers, his, and theirs.

Just leisurely living my days comfortably in the palace like this, I firmly believe I can continue to play dumb to the end.

Taking your hand, dragging you away. Not leaving you say? Very well, close the doors and release the hounds. (Expressionless face)