Invincible Divine Sword - Chapter 1382: Originally, You Didn’t Have to Die

[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.

[Disclaimer:This is not a story for the faint-hearted. It explores the darkest aspects of humanity—where morality is shattered, and power takes its place. Most readers won’t have the courage to face this unrelenting descent into shadows.I'm once again telling you if you can't handle deaths and violence and you seek happiness then please do not even touch this Novel.But maybe, just maybe, you’re different. Strong enough to confront the abyss and see what lies beyond.if so Prove it.][Synopsis]:In a world teetering on the edge of chaos, seven empires vie for dominance, each more ruthless than the last. At the heart of this dark tapestry lies Narzan, a nation feared and despised, where cruelty is law and ambition a deadly game. The lands of mortals are but a fragile sanctuary, bordered by forbidden realms—the infernal Demon Realm, where nightmares are born; the accursed Lost Soul Realm, where the damned wander endlessly; and the enigmatic Elven Kingdom, shrouded in secrets and ancient power. These realms whisper of horrors and treasures that could reshape the very fabric of existence.Above it all looms the Weave of Magic, an ancient force that binds life, death, and destiny. It stirs ominously, its threads tangling with shadows of betrayal, vengeance, and destruction. In this world where the strong devour the weak, hope is a fleeting illusion, and mercy is a tale for the foolish.Veythor is a man cursed by the fates, his existence a relentless cycle of suffering. Across three lives, he has endured betrayal, torment, and death. On Earth, he was a man broken by those he trusted—betrayed by family, ruined by love, and condemned to die in despair. In his second life, he met an even crueler fate, falling prey to monsters in human form. But Thalvoria, his third life, is the cruelest of all.A vast and merciless world, Thalvoria is ruled by beings of unimaginable power. Here, mages can sunder mountains with a thought, empires rise and fall in rivers of blood, and forgotten gods slumber beneath the earth. Mythical beasts stalk cursed forests, and the lands themselves seem to hunger for suffering. In Thalvoria, even the heavens cast shadows, and every choice is a gamble with damnation.Yet Veythor, battered and scarred, refuses to succumb. Haunted by memories of his past lives, he begins to weave his pain into something more dangerous. Every betrayal fuels his resolve, every scar sharpens his will. As the balance of power begins to shift and the Weave of Magic tightens its grip on the world, Veythor sets his sights on a singular goal: to seize control of his cursed destiny, no matter the cost.But in a land where salvation and damnation are two sides of the same coin, what will remain of a man who refuses to die?When the world itself hungers for blood, Veythor will rise—or he will drag all of Thalvoria into the abyss with him.

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.”Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?”The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?”Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!”“Oh!!!!”The audience erupted into thunderous applause.“Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately.The applause grew even more fervent...(The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

I had to take him home and raise him. There was no bathtub or a large basin at home, so I had to put him in the washing machine for the time being.

It was an hour later before I remembered it again, by which he had been washed extremely clean.

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