Magic-Smithing - Chapter 117.7

Yan Qing’s sister, who has been sent down to earth, was schemed; designed to be a miserable female character in every life.

To save her younger sister, Yan Qing, a retired quick-transmigrator, full class man, once again set foot on the world shuttle journey to hardcore protect his sister and counterattack scumbags.

And then … ——

The real daughter who was kicked out of the House: sorry, my richest brother came to pick me up.

Abandoned White Moonlight stand-in: sorry, my elder brother said you lost your throne.

Face-slapped cannon fodder female partner: sorry, the country spoils my brother, my brother spoils me!

- Description from Novelupdates

Zhong Li, an orphan in the 21st century, was wondering how to collect the fees for his college study on the street, when he was suddenly hit by a car, which threw him into a river. An orphan’s disappearance would not bring too much attention to the world, but this accident gave Zhong Li another chance of living a glorious life in an immortal world. When he woke up, he found himself lying in a magnificent yet strange palace built of all gold, but had no door. An immortal claimed to be his savior and wanted to train Zhong Li with all of his cultivation methods, only because he was too lonely and wanted a disciple to keep him company. When Zhong Li finished his study, the master would tell him how to go out of the palace. Zhong Li never thought that the path to immortality would bring him to the fate of becoming a dragon.

- Description from Novelupdates

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.