The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World - Chapter 137: A Toast to Trouble

Born into a dirt poor mining family, Karl only had one chance to get ahead in life, the annual elite recruitment day. On their final day of middle school, every student in the Golden Dragon Nation was given an experimental injection to awaken their affinity with magic.

Those few who succeeded would become the Elite, the leaders and idols of the nation, blessed with incredible magical powers and respected by all. Those who did not would return to their normal lives of hard work and low wages, just doing the best they could.

But with the nation surrounded by enemies, both humans and monsters, how long would these peaceful days of magical idols last?

Follow the story of Karl as he awakens a unique power and strives to become the world's first Legendary Beast Master.

Living for the sole aim of escaping!

‘Light of Rusbella’ was a depressing romance novel.

Wishing for a new life, Asili Rosé was reborn as the daughter of the 8th wife of the Estrian Emperor.

She thought she was born with a golden spoon, but it was actually just a gilded spoon?

Once she realized that nothing but ruin awaited, she found a diary foreshadowing the future…

It foretold Asili’s death by the hands of the Crown Prince, Castor!

…Let’s try to survive first.

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“What can I do for my elder brother?”

“Well.”

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Pale sky blue hair fluttered finely in the wind. He smiled weakly, before parting his dry lips.

“Call my name.”

“…”

My head quickly snapped up.

“Call me… Amoru.”

His fingertips skimmed along my inner wrist.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”