Kiltering Mayhem - Chapter 87: Entrance.

“Guokuo, Guoguo, ci… ciguo cake, fragrant…”

“Brother, after Qiu’er finishes eating this delicious, golden pancake fruit, can you tell Qiu’er another story?”

“Brother, Xia’er has signed up for the singing competition, will you teach Xia’er a song?”

“Brother, can you dance folk dances? Chun’er wants to learn…”

Zhuang Zhou dreamed of a butterfly, and the butterfly waved its wings gently, changing the wheel of life in suffering, and also changing the sky of Shengyu.

- Description from novelbuddy

Two worlds collide in the new VRMMORPG, 'Pantheon Online', as Colt Anderson desperately joins the game in a bid to save his failing gaming career. At first, he thought it would be like any other game…

That was until he discovered the players would be the Gods of this world. The goal? To spread their influence among the mortals (NPC's). However, if their Divinity ever reached zero, they would be forcefully ejected from the game forever.

As Colt is driven forward by his ambition, his beliefs as a gamer are called into question. Tough choices lay ahead, while his feelings for an NPC become complicated as they face the coming storms together.

Upon awakening, Lu Xuan found himself as an ordinary spirit plant cultivator, tending to an acre of land merely scraping by in the realm of cultivation.Fortunately, he stumbled upon an unexpected revelation: with each maturing spiritual plant, he received additional rewards.Harvesting a The Firefly Grass yielded a Golden Sword Technique.From the Blood-Devouring Vine, he obtained a Purification Talisman.And the Phantom Spring Flower gifted him a prescription for the elusive Luminous Flame Pill.Henceforth, he contentedly tended to his own spiritual fields, observing the tumultuous tides and shifts in the world of cultivation.“Duels and clashes, expeditions into secret realms, immortal fortunes, obtaining mystical treasures… None of it concerns me!”“I simply wish for peace and quiet to tend to my fields.”

[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.]

******

“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.