Cthulhu Gonfalon - Chapter 452

An Earthling soul awakens in the ailing body of Loryarc Lapizburn, a disabled young man betrothed to the second daughter of the notorious Hallmeavan Family.The Goddess of Kiss blesses him with a unique ability known as the [Kiss for More] System, which allows him to gain skills by kissing.Can this new soul confront the dark secrets hidden within the Hallmeavan bloodline using his System?What about the chaos in his predecessor's county, where the branch families are constantly at odds?Why did the Goddess of Kiss choose him to receive this System?Kiss, kiss, and keep kissing...What awaits him in the end?Anything is possible... through kisses!

Born to clan Demios, as the clan head fourth child. he was destined for greatness, but that all changed when he crossed Five.he was discovered to be Aetherless a never before seen condition. he was cast to the pit at the age of five, the last time he had seen the sun.And now he was caught in a conspiracy,who will help him, certainly not the clan who hates him, or the public who has no idea who he is.he died.But his story didn't end there, a scornful soul from earth decended into the body, and rewrote the Extra fate. He first started by changing his status from—Father regretted, siblings neglected, society rejected._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Zephyr finds himself in a world ruled by Aether—an enigmatic energy tied to bloodlines and power. His clan, the Demios, wields black flames but cast him aside as “Aetherless trash” after a failed assassination plot against the third Princess Seralyn. Framed, tortured, and executed, a new Zephyr from another world now awakens, now aware of his betrayal.Haunted by memories of betrayal and driven by newfound resolve, Zephyr vows to rise above his former weakness, master his abilities, and confront those who wronged him—not just for survival, but for vengeance. In this new ruthless world, strength is law, and Zephyr is done being its victim.check out my new novel Chilace of Light

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”