《Monarch of Heaven's Wrath.》A plan set in motion.
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Chapter 10: A plan set in motion. Liang Chen did not know when he fell asleep again, but when he opened his eyes, he was lying in his bed, his body cleaned and draped in a clean robe. Qing Chun was nowhere to be seen, so he guessed that she had likely already returned home. He sat up in the bed, his body was still aching, but it was far better than it was the previous day. He rolled up the sleeves of his robe, checking on the wounds he had on his left arm. The wound where he stabbed himself with the knife was covered with a white paste and wrapped with clean bandages, and the fingers on his left hand were wrapped in separate bandages, allowing him to move them freely, while still covering his cracked nails. A slight smile appeared on Liang Chen's face, friends like Qing Chun truly made life worth living. He got up from the bed, his feet somewhat unsteady, but not to a point where he would have trouble moving. He went to his closet and picked out two robes, using his knife to slice open one of the sides on the robes. He brought the robes into the living-room, filling one of the robes with food and the other one with empty waterskins and some clothing. Once the robes were filled up, he tied up the loose ends, creating two make-shift bags that he could carry with him. He had left his only bucket in the forest, and they had never had a need for any bags, so there were none in the house. He left the house and broke off a large branch from one of the trees, fastening the two bags onto the branch and leaning the branch against his shoulder. He swept the house and the garden with his gaze one last time, his eyes hardening with grim determination as he turned around and walked away. He glanced at the sky as he headed towards the exit of the town, seeing that the sky was filled with clouds, the sky in the far distance filled with black clouds. Just like Qing Chun had said, it seemed like a storm was truly approaching. Liang Chen lowered his head slightly, his eyes focusing on the road ahead of him. If he let himself be delayed because of a mere storm, he would not be Liang Chen. He quickly left the city and followed the same path he had taken previously, stopping at one of the rivers and filling up a few of the water-skins he had prepared. No one knew why the water was green in color, but the water had been safe to drink for countless years, so Liang Chen did not hesitate to fill his water-skins with the water. After he filled his water-skins, he continued his journey towards the forest, quickly reaching the outskirts. The first thing Liang Chen did upon entering the forest was to head towards the bucket he had left behind previously. When he reached the spot where the bucket stood, he did not immediately walk up to it. He crouched down and hid in a nearby bush, carefully and slowly checking the area around the bucket. The bucket was standing upright and undisturbed, but the body of the snake was almost completely gone, only a small piece of flesh left behind. Liang Chen silently sat in the bush, his vigilant gaze continuously sweeping the area. Only after he waited for over an hour, not spotting any movements, did he slowly stand up from the bush, carefully making his way towards the bucket. The blood inside the bucket looked the same as when he left it, not coagulating in the slightest despite an entire day passing. After checking on the bucket, Liang Chen found a spot beneath a particularly large tree, placing down his two bags there. The tree looked large enough to block out most of the rain, so Liang Chen decided that using this tree was cover was his best option. He would not let the storm delay him, and that included not letting the rain dilute the Demonic beast blood. He grabbed the bucket filled with blood, carrying it with him all the way out of the forest. Once he left the forest, he poured out all the blood within the bucket, then quickly returned to the spot he had chosen. He placed the bucket with the rest of his items, then let out a slight breath. “I need to get to work.” Liang Chen grabbed the branch he had used to carry his bags here, removing the bags and then using the branch to start digging. The ground was a bit loose, but it was filled with large and small rocks, making digging a hole large enough for him a hard task, his hands aching every time he hit a rock. As the hours slowly passed, Liang Chen continued to use the branch to slowly dig, switching over to using his hands whenever he found a particularly large rock that he needed to take care of. His work did not stop even when night came, he simply raised his vigilance, every little sound in the surroundings causing him to stop digging. At one point in the night, a snake similar to the one he had first killed crawled into his little camp. Despite slithering quite close to him, the snake seemed to be completely unable to spot him, something Liang Chen had already expected, as he had read that they had poor night-vision. Using all his might, he hit the snake on the head with the branch he had in his hands, disorienting it long enough for him to stab it with his knife. He poured as much blood as he could into the bucket, and then carried the body of the snake a good distance away from his camp, throwing it deeper into the forest. Once that was dealt with, he returned to the camp and continued to dig until morning came. Not sleeping was something he had already gotten used to, so he was still able to continue working despite going for an entire day without sleep. Once morning rolled around and he stopped digging, he climbed up one of the surrounding trees, finding a thick and large branch where he could sit. He sat down on the branch and closed his eyes, quietly cultivating for a short while, the only sound in the area coming from the wind that was slowly growing stronger. After he spent three hours cultivating, he opened his eyes again and climbed down the tree, continuing to work on the hole he had dug. The hole he had dug was one meter deep and two meters long, large enough for him to lie down in it. His next course of action was to line the hole with the clothing he had brought, so he used his knife to cut the clothing apart and placed it inside the hole, using rocks and branches to keep them in place. Once the entire hole was lined with clothing, he walked to the surrounding trees and started to break off branches and gather a large number of leaves. He covered the hole with the leaves, and then placed the branches on top of the leaves, as well as lining them up against the edges of the hole. When he had finally filled the hole with clothing, leaves, and branches, the sun had already set again, the second night descending upon him as the low howl of the wind rang through the forest. Liang Chen climbed up the same tree he had climbed earlier, sitting down on the thick branch as he started to quietly cultivate, a low mutter escaping his lips. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow I can truly start.”
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Wings of Sorrow
Tension permeates the city of Bleakridge as forces within its walls struggle for supremacy. Grim Thorne, the disinherited son of the Earl, is a fly caught in the web of power struggles between these forces. When Grim closes his eyes, he can still see the bodies piled high from the first day of occupation. The day he was branded a bastard in the southern fashion. The day his father let them. Soldiers from the south bearing green cloaks and royal seals maintain order in the streets of Bleakridge, ensuring that the lifeblood of commerce continues to flow through the port city. In the slums beyond the outer wall, the Sons of the Reaper lurk. Some call them heroes, others villains. But all fear them for their relentless devotion to the old ways and the freedom that entails. In the castle above the city, resides the Earl of Bleakridge. The man who bent the knee and saved the lives of his people, if not their souls. After twenty years of occupation, the tension is coming to a head and Grim has to choose. Sympathetic to the Sons, duty bound to his father, and forced into service to the king. He must rise above the brand on his neck and decide where his true loyalties lie. But, after so long, it can be hard to tell who is deserving of loyalty. The King’s men who enforce order with a blood-soaked iron fist? The Sons who more resemble terrorists and crime lords than revolutionaries? Or the father who watches the bloodshed and does nothing? In the end, it is always the place of the young to bear the sins of the old.
8 201The Sword And The Butterfly
Virtuous Masters, terrible Demons.Mortal armies fighting for mortal Kings.Sages reaching for immortality. In such a world, filled with wonder and slaughter, two precocious children try to join a mighty Sectand the ranks of the fabled Cultivators. This is their story.
8 229Destiny of the Aasim
The world is cold, the world is harsh, only the strong will thrive. These are the rules of the Realms. When Raylas, a mercenary, discovers an artifact while on a mission his life is transformed. A destiny beyond his imagination awakens, tying itself to him and dragging him along. With the help of his new companions he will have to forge a way for him to survive as the fates watch his every move. But how will the world react when a new Legend is born? [Updates Monday-Friday]
8 184Eye of Amber
Kosian's life was turned upside down when he saw his brother being taken by men of the Faith, using words like 'cursed' and 'damned'. He did not care if his brother was the Ancient Gods incarnate -- he just wanted a friend with whom he could share his pain, his joy. And, after ten long years of planning, he is finally ready. With the help of a group of mysterious benefactors, Kosian saves his brother, fleeing their home and heading east, towards the port of Bez, accompanied by an unexpected but welcomed band of mercenaries. Meanwhile, Bel, a knight of the order Purtelis, hounds them, dead set on returning the Faith's stolen property. Both groups traverse the peaceful lands of Bollardia, each encountering roaming monsters, ancient evils and simple people, trying to survive. During his travels, Kosian is haunted by strange dreams and visions, all of which keep showing him the same image -- an eye of amber, etched with black runes. The sign of the Divided, masters of magic and saviours of the Seven Races.
8 130Sinner's Resolve: An Agent's Wish
A demon that had never batted an eye while mercilessly reaping the lives of many. A prodigy who accomplished the impossible. A hero that dutifully followed his orders. A messiah of the people. Many titles were given to him, whether it be in praise or in fear, but only one thing could be agreed upon by the people...All who he had ever crossed paths with had met an untimely death. He slowly rose to the top and earned himself the name of Black Death. A nameless person who was eventually awarded a cursed and bloodied name... Must this continue?...... He stared at his hands before turning his gaze towards his next three targets. Their photographs were neatly aligned along his makeshift table, accompanying him inside of a dimly lit room. Each one of them had earned their seat as the best special agents within their respective organizations. There must be a way...There has to be a way... Shaking away his thoughts, he quietly pocketed away the photos before exiting the room. A chance meeting that would forever change his cruel fate, and a wish that would transcend worlds. This is the story of a man who had nothing yet lost everything but a single wish, a silver lining that would completely change his life. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Notes - Hello everyone! This is my first work and I will hopefully stay around for a while. I will try to finish or at least expand on this piece of work for quite some time, expect a few hiatuses in between though, still have a bit of schooling to do. Expected release dates will probably be once a week(not sure yet) after I stabilized the novel a bit as I'm still debating on how I should handle this. I prefer fleshed-out works compared to quick releases, but it also depends on how I'm feeling. I don't have a lot of confidence in my writing skills and I believe that my writing style is a bit weird, but I do want to try my best to tell a story that's worth telling. I will gladly accept criticism but please try to pull the punches back a bit! I'm still only human after all. Very excited to work on this, please take good care of me as I proceed on this journey with all of you! P.S. If you're going into my series, expect to see cliches sprinkled here and there. I personally love cliches and a few tropes! But, that goes without saying, I want to put my own spin on them. Be ready to feel the edge!!! Heh.
8 190Please...
Harry Potter is five years old now, though he does not look it. He looks more like a small four or three year old. But, that's not the end of it.The fact that none of his neighbors know he exists, that he sleeps in a cupboard, even that his parents are dead, is not the end, nor the worst of it. No, the worst, is his uncle. The reason he doesn't speak, look at anyone, barely even breathe. Each night, he hopes for someone to come and save him, but they never come. No matter how hard he wishes, how hard he hopes, it seems he will be stuck there forever, or until his slow, agonizing march to death ends.One night, after hoping and hoping, he starts to realize he will never get saved, helped, even comforted, for his entire life.What if he's wrong, and what if a certain Slytherin can heal this broken child?What if, in turn, this broken child can heal him?THIS IS NOT SNARRY!! If that's your thing that's fine, but HARRY IS FIVE IN THIS FANFIC!! NOT SNARRY!!Do not repost on any other website/account without my permission.
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