The Girl Raised by the Death God Holds the Sword of Darkness in Her Arms - Volume 3, Final Chapter: Wind of Spring

The leader of the alliance, Song Zhaolan brought a group of martial artists to besiege the demonic sect. Suddenly the whole alliance and the demonic sect had crossed over to be the students of Class A and Class F.

So this group of people climbed the wall and went to the Internet cafe, stayed up late to read novels, and participated in the sports meeting with 18 kinds of martial arts…

The students at Wulin No. 1 Middle school were going crazy. Every day, they trembled under the authority of these two big bosses. They were caught in the middle of these two classes that were sanctioned with iron fists. There were no longer mandarin ducks in the grove, only the two bosses shouting at each other.

Finally one day, Song Zhaolan received the demon’s “letter of surrender”:

“Who says that good and evil do not mix? I insist to exist in your heart!”

Class A student: The alliance leader is mighty, he actually captured the right palm of the devil with one hand!

Class F student: The leader has a good heart, he actually used his mouth to save this scumbag!

BCDE student: Are you blind or mentally disabled? ? ?

The martial arts master who only wants to cook shou X The master who only wants to learn gong

- Description from Novelupdates

In the world of Aetheria, there is one name that is feared by all. Yet, he is known more for his title, the Demon General. Whether it’s Gods or Demons, no beings dare to oppose his authority. He ruled Aetheria with an iron hand. Cities are destroyed on his whim. Countries are razed at his displeasure.This is the tale of his rise to power.This is the tale of his rise to Godhood.This is the tale of the rise of the Demon General.

Lin Xiao was an orphan who strived to get stronger while living with his sickly younger brother in an unnamed small village.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.