MTL - Dragon Martial Emperor - v2 Chapter 9 Town day mood

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.

“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)

The greatest warrior is reborn as the lowest wastrel.As the Sword Saint, the greatest swordmaster in the world, there was no place Roland couldn't go. No enemy he couldn't defeat. But pursuing strength above all else was not without consequences. The price of his power? Death at the hands of his brother, the last surviving member of his family.Now reborn in the body of Rylan—the greatest shame of the Flameheart family—Roland refuses to waste his second chance. He already had the capability and the drive, but now he also has the wisdom and knowledge of what is truly important. He won't forsake his family again.Reaching the peak will be easy. Doing so while remaining true to his newfound convictions will be much harder.There's just one problem—the criminal underworld won't let their biggest customer go so easily.What to expect:. Reincarnation LitRPG. Swordsman MC in a world of magic, but he'll also learn some magic, especially later on. Strong to OP progression. Third person. Not a murderhobo. There will likely be some romance in the future. No harem* Daily chapters while still in Rising Stars

Dreaming back to the Tang Dynasty, being an ordinary person, greedy for money, lustful, debauched and free.

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