MTL - Elixir Supplier - Chapter 844 Three days damn

“How did it go?” Lily asked the next morning when Ava got to the living room.“Terribly.” Ava replied flatly, dropping into one of the sofas.Sarah entered almost immediately and sent Ava a teasing and wicked smile.“Really? That bad? Lucas is really great in matters of the bedroom. Did you do something wrong?”“Our little new concubine here is a virgin.” Sarah announced. Lily gasped and covered her mouth.“Oh God. That is not the kind of man you want to lose your virginity with,” Lily said.Sarah burst into laughter at Lily's comment.“It's not funny,” Ava scowled.“Actually it is. Better warm up to the idea because when Alpha Lucas Raventhorn wants to take you, he will in the roughest way possible.” Sarah advised.“You mean like last night? I thought he was going to rip you in half.” Ava rolled her eyes.“I like my men rough.”“Well, I don't.” Ava retorted.“If you are looking for flowers, love, and vanilla sex. You are a concubine to the wrong alpha.”“Ain't that the truth.” Ava murmured under her breath

Freshly turned eighteen, John Newman, a helpless nerd, suddenly gets video game abilities granted to him. A mysterious higher power, a secret Abyss of magic beneath the surface of the normal world, mages, martial artists, eroticism, tragedy and a harem of hot girls awaits.

Leguna. An orphan. His life changed dramatically the day the thieves’ guild happened to select him for training and development. He would go on to become lifelong friends with a loyal mercenary, the partner of a beautiful magus who was cold as ice, the savior of a mysterious disfigured dark-elf girl with a talent for the Breath, and the unlikely caregiver for a feisty young maiden. And yet, who would be with him to the very end?

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.