weeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwoooooooooooooooooo

I originally had a simple and original idea. Dara gains magical ability. This ability gives him opportunities:

- to anticipate events (the author also succeeds in this, sometimes, you think, here is this man coming, you look out the window, he really goes)

- to understand a foreign language (this idea arose, after reading the reviews, when English-speakers from Europe, USA, Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand were not satisfied with the level of English grammar, those who have English, the second or even the third language. And so , we turn on the magical ability to say for a week and you write and speak correctly)

- be able to bargain and covertly control the consciousness of the audience by achieving the goal set by the main character ...

These were the main features. BUT ... after reading the historical materials about the "tags" that were issued in the TAN empire for their vassal territories ... these abilities have increased ... which somewhat puzzles me.

In general, the idea to write a short story appeared that I wanted to share extensive material on the history of the Silk Road. new directions in farming, the ecological direction of farming development, healthy cooking, for which you need to use pure products without preservatives, a combination of Chinese cuisine with the concept of hot, cold and neutral products and Persian healing cooking, where each product has its own healing properties, and in combination with others it strengthens or weakens them.

I repeat a lot of material, it is at least 450 books of 18-19 and mid-20th century. Sometimes there are too many ideas, you start writing one, you don't finish it, and you start writing another.

Excessive detailing ... but on the other hand, as without details, in them the very meaning is ????!

...

The author wanted to write an original novel, without reymeks and strong borrowings on similar topics - agriculture, farming, magic, cooking, systems ... and do without cultivation ...

As soon as the "cultivation" comes across in a good novelty, then write, it's gone. A funny comedy that turns into humor turns into a dull story with a description of these techniques, which is not particularly pulling to read the rest of the story.

Let there be an omnipotent system! But she will not dictate her requirements - to those who use this system.

.....

As is usual in Asia, and in particular in the East ... the families are large, if not a clan, then a large community. At least 30 close relatives. And so if you raise all relatives close and not very, then you can get from 400 to a couple of thousand people. And it can be scattered not only in the prefectures of one country, but also in the countries themselves. Such as the USA, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, Sweden, Canada, Russia, Finland, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Iran, Britain ... About and perhaps Saint Denis ...

....

And large families are not clans. In the clans there is terror, tyranny, factional struggle, conspiracies, intrigues, betrayals, deception, merging information to a competitor, and sometimes the use of "active measures". Therefore, the author, has focused on a large and friendly family. Although because of this, many minor heroes appeared, they would not be confused now !!!!

....

Arches:

Trade

Agriculture

New technologies

Magical make up

Online Farm Shop

Communicating Magical Entities

The story of microbes in the planet

The story of the order of wandering monks and the related fall of meteorites 500 years ago

Buying Dry Fruits

Making new and remembering old recipes for making eastern sweets

Sale for export ...

New magical features ...

Finally, the start of the farm operation ...


Here I would like to introduce romance, liveliness, move away from details ... well, I hope the author will manage to do this ...

If there are any suggestions from readers write.

Respectfully,

P.S. Today, probably it will not be possible to write a new chapter. But tomorrow I will try to write two chapters of 500 or maybe 1000 words each.

The second version. 

Agriculture is a very interesting activity. Like the sale of products. Not to mention the cooking, healing cooking. The development of tourism. 


All this will be in this novel. Perhaps the continuation of the first novel, but not a fact.

What is the story about? The story of a graduate student who decided to become a farmer. He sold his apartment and started to run his business with the money he received. Farm, online shop, farm shop. Decided to sell organic food.

Who is this guy? Former student of the Faculty of History. His relatives are historians and artisans, scientists. Great-grandfather Farmer. Grandfather - oriental sweets manufacturer. His ancestor ... Dara is the hero of another novel "'Jiang' Magic Coin" ...

What happens to him? He finds magic coins that have already become a magic entity, he has an all-powerful system. The main character does not immediately use it ...

Why should I care? It is interesting. But not at once. Not from the first pages, there is interesting historical information, there is an understanding of everyday life, traditions, oriental subtleties of doing business.

Almost reality but in a fantastic wrapper.

Pros - good content, many different historical facts about the Silk Road, Eastern Trade, Household reflections on politics and economics, there are interesting ideas for organizing your own business in tourism and farming.

Cons - bad form, that is, the text of the novel is rough, grammar and syntax is lame. There are mistakes.

Overall assessment of the story if to be objective:

Writing Quality - 2 stars
Stability of Updates - 4 stars (3-4 times per week from 500 to 3000 words for one chapter)

Story Development - 4 stars
Character Design - 3 stars
World Background - 3 stars

Overall result: Who wants to learn new things about farming and about the world after the Cold War, who is interested in the first place content, can be sure that he/she will not waste his/her time in vain.

Whoever likes the good form of the syllable, he/she can immediately leave, having pulled his hat, striking his/her horse sideways with spurs, plunge into the depths of the prairie.


Tags - Farming, Cooking, Health, Folk Medicine, Magic, History


-----------------------------
This is a work of art. Any resemblance to real people or real events is purely coincidental.

I keep thinking of the Patronus Charm. The spell incantation, intent, and spell structure are all there. The only error I can think of is I didn't envision something coming forth to protect me. But neither book mentioned that.


I go through each step carefully before getting ready to give it another try. After saying expecto patronum, I envisioned a guardian coming to my aid. It ended the exact same way, a build-up of Magicka in my hand. I'm not done with this. It must be possible to cast it wandlessly. 

I just don't know what I'm missing.


It should be possible to reverse engineer the process for wandless after I cast it with a wand. I'm going to need a wand to teach at Hogwarts, and a wand is required for the animagus ritual. I just don't want to be dependent on a tool for any spell.


"Trixie," I called out for my tiny helper.


With a subtle pop, Trixie answered, "Master called for Trixie?"


"Yes, I did. Trixie, I need you to take me to Diagon Alley." I'm also going to check out Knockturn Alley for a book on Apparation and Portkeys. With them being controlled spells, I'll need fewer legal means to gain books on them.


While thinking of what to purchase today, Trixie hands me a dark overcoat. "Master should wear this. It will keep Master dry from the rain."


It's official, Trixie is the best. Slinging the coat on, I offer my hand to Trixie. "Thank you, Trixie. I would be lost without you."


The tips of her ears begin to rapidly twitch, and a look of pure joy fills the house elf's face. Taking my hand, we are pulled into a world of swirling lights and color.


A small crack and there is ground suddenly under my feet again. Looking around, Trixie apparated us to the end of Diagon Alley by The Leaky Cauldron.


A slight sprinkle of rain seems to be keeping the streets mostly empty. Thanking Trixie, I make my way to Ollivanders, one of the only wand shops in Britain.


Finding the wandmaker on the south side of Diagon Alley, I swiftly make my entrance. Closing the door behind me, I take my time to observe the little shop.


Shabby is the best word I can think of to describe the small shop. The entire building is rather narrow. The walls are lined with old and sometimes broken shelves. Each shelf, broken or not, is overfilled with small boxes. I assume wand boxes.


Overall, the shop appears rather sad and run-down.


A discreet Detect Life spell and I scan the shop for the owner. Off in a corner, appears to be a disillusioned man. I can't see him, but I trust the blue outline.


Staring at the head shaped outline, "Can we hurry this along? I have more shopping to do."


An old man with white hair and deep silvery eyes suddenly pops into existence. Canceling the Detect Life spell, I take a good look at the elderly man. With a messy head of hair and an old burgundy coat, he looked like a loon.


When I read the books, I never could trust this old creeper. I always felt he used Legilimens on customers and reported his findings to Dumbledore. No idea if that's true, but I still can't help but be suspicious.


With a raspy tone, "Welcome, I am Garrick Ollivander."


Ignoring edict, "Thank you. I need a wand and have heard you are the best wandmaker in Britain."


Lightly nodding his head, "Will this be your first wand, or are you looking for a second?"


I can't help myself. With a wide smile, I answer, "Yes."


Staring into his eyes, I feel the slightest brush of foreign energy. Garrick suddenly reels back and looks away. It would appear I was right.


My smile drops away after losing all humor from his attempted Legilimency attack. "If you are done, Mr. Ollivander, I would like to purchase a wand now?"


Lightly shaking his head, he begins to walk towards the back of the shop. "Of course. Let us begin."


As he's walking by a stumpy counter, he waves his hand over a yellow tape measure.
Mr. Ollivander continues to move towards a shelf in the back as the tape measure flies towards me. 

In no mood for games, I snatch the flying tape measure from the air. With a silent Finite, the tape measure goes limp.


Seeing that Mr. Ollivander hasn't even looked back, I simply throw the tape measure back on his counter. Probably a diversion to keep customers busy as he's searching for wands.


A moment later, Mr. Ollivander returns, carrying several wand boxes. Taking out a light-colored wand Mr. Ollivander faces me. "The wand chooses the wizard. You must clear your mind of any spell, and give the wand a wave. Now, try this one. Poplar and unicorn hair, twelve inches. Rigid. Good for Charms."


Taking hold of the wand, I avoid the thought of any spells. With a small wave of my hand, several red sparks fizzle out of the tip.


Snatching the wand from my hand, Mr. Ollivander hands me another. And another. And another.


Finally, waving the eighth wand, a shower of golden sparks shoot out. Mr. Ollivander curiously looks at the wand before looking back at me. "Thirteen and one-half inches. Ebony and dragon heartstring. Highly suited for martial spells and Transfiguration."


Looking back at the black wand, Mr. Ollivander continues, "Ebony wands are known for accepting masters that are capable of standing on their own. It seeks those individuals that possess the will to hold steadfast on their chosen path. One who is not likely to blinding conform to popular opinion."


"What do I owe you, Mr. Ollivander?" I cordially speak to the man. Regardless of my dislike for the fellow, he and Dumbledore are friends. I don't want the old creeper to poison my chances of becoming a professor at Hogwarts.


Returning from his thoughts, the elderly wand maker looks up at me, "That will be seven Galleons."


After paying for the wand, I slip the wand into my subspace unnoticed.


My next stop was Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. I purchased several mandrake leaves for the animagus ritual and two dozen Memory Potions. I also received confirmation my basilisk venom will be available for pick up in three days.


The light sprinkle has turned into full-on rain. I embrace the weather and directly make my way to Knockturn Alley. Besides, with a few spells, I'll be completely free of any raindrops.


Walking down the narrow and crooked alleyway, I take note of the shops I pass. Most names do not even hint as to what is sold inside, but a few are self-explanatory. There are shop signs that read Beard Trimming, Chimney Sweep Elf, and the Betting Shop.


That last one gives me an idea to help boost my resume for Hogwarts.


Putting that to the side, I arrive at my destination. Stepping into Borgin and Burkes, I cast on overpowered Drying Charm on myself.


Comfortably dry, I begin to look around the little shop of horrors. The gloomy atmosphere and the assortment of bones hanging about, remind me more of a necromancer's lair.


A tall standing cabinet catches my attention. The cabinet is made from a richly colored wood and tastefully edged with engravings. Opening the cabinet door, I peer inside. It's substantial enough for two adults to stand in comfortably.


"The Crushing Cabinet," states an oily male voice. "Anything placed inside will be crushed when the door is fully closed. Anything."


Turning towards the speaker, I see a matching image to the unctuous voice. With long stringy hair and crazed eyes, the man before me can only be described as shady.


Looking back at the cabinet, I'm now convinced this is the Vanishing Cabinet. The Hogwarts cabinet must already be damaged if this one is crushing things put inside. 

Keeping my voice light, I slowly state, "I could make use of this."


The oily voice excitedly speaks up, "I am willing to part with such an incredible item for... two-thousand galleons."


He's clearly inflating the price, but it's still worth it. Being able to jump in and out of Hogwarts undetected would provide me with an alibi. A Sling Ring can also do the same, but I like having options.


Giving the crooked vendor a bored look, I state, "You have priced it well above it's actual value."

The man merely shrugs his shoulders and gives me an ugly smile.

I glance at the cabinet a second time before turning back to the shopkeeper. I'm a bit annoyed he didn't try to haggle for the price, but I should have expected that from someone running a dark establishment. 

"I am looking for several books, not approved for distribution. Rituals, Portkeys, Apparation, and deadly duel techniques. Do you have any of those?"


A battle of greed and caution wage in the shopkeeper's eyes. "The Ministry has restricted those books due to the danger they pose..."


Interrupting the shopkeeper, I ask, "Do I look like I care what your Ministry wants?"


Greed suddenly overtakes the cautious look in his eyes. "No. No, you don't. Wait here. I'll retrieve the books you asked for," he replies before quickly vanishing in a back room.


I ready a ward spell and Blasting Curse just in case. If he wants trouble, I'll help him find it.


A few minutes later, the shopkeeper returns with an armload of books. As he sets them on the counter, I scan over the titles. 

There are a total of twelve books on the shop counter. Four of the books are on dueling and five books on rituals. The final three books are on Apparation, Portkeys, and Fiendfyre.


"Everything you asked for and more," the shopkeeper says in his unctuous voice.
I can't help but smile at this. "I'll take all of them and the cabinet as well."


The shopkeeper's eyes shine with hunger, and a yellow-teeth filled smile appears on his face. "That will be six-thousand galleons."


I'm not even angry at the outrageous price. Dropping the Galleons on the counter, the shopkeeper begins to rapidly gather them up before they can spill onto the floor. 


While he's distracted, I move all twelve books into my subspace.


As I'm walking out, I call out, "Take the cabinet to the manor."


There is a loud crack as an invisible Trixie leaves with the Vanishing Cabinet. Trixie truly is the best.


Having finished my shopping needs, I make my way out of Knockturn Alley. Unsure if the size of the cabinet tired Trixie out, I decided to give her a few minutes rest before I called her back.


By the time I reached The Leaky Cauldron, Trixie appeared beside me with a slight popping noise. "Perfect timing Trixie. Now, let's go home."


*******************


Once back home, I turned an empty ballroom into a make-shift training area. With my ebony wand in hand, I begin to go through my daily spell routine.


After running through the spells, I began to experiment. The wand was not able to successfully cast any of the Skyrim spells.  But I was able to add more versatility to the Potter-verse spells.


The wand gave me a bit more control over the Hogwarts spells. I was able to overcharge spells with less Magicka than I ordinarily used wandlessly. Aiming was a bit easier as well.


Even with these benefits, I still didn't have a desire to use a wand for anything I didn't absolutely have to. It didn't make spell casting any faster, or the spells travel at higher speeds. A wand is simply a tool to assist. It's not necessary.


Finished with familiarizing myself with my wand, I get ready to attempt the Patronus Charm again. Carefully going through every step, I embrace my selected memory. 

Raising my wand, I clearly state, "Expecto patronum."


I feel my Magicka race down my arm, but halts at my hand. The Magicka doesn't leave my body.


Failure.


I spend the next hour failing at every attempt I make. Even changing memories ended in failure.


Disregarding the Potter-verse way of casting magic, I store my wand in my subspace. 

Sitting down, I begin to analyze everything from a new angle. The spell may be failing because I don't have a guardian to call forth.


Expecto patronum translates to 'I await a guardian'. My very soul is that of a dragon. I don't have a spirit animal to call out...


Maybe I don't need to call out for a spirit animal? Maybe, I can call for something else? That might just work.


The Dovah word for a guardian is 'vahlok'. To come forward is 'bo amativ'.


I don't know if this will be a spell or a shout, but it's time to test it. For an added boost, I cast the Calming Charm on myself. That should give me a blank slate to work with.


Diving back into my memory actually brings forth feelings of love and joy. There is real happiness moving within me. I imagine that love taking a physical form to come out and protect me.


Raising my hand, I concentrate on my desire before commanding, "Bo amativ vahlok!"


An enormous power rushes down my arm and bursts from my hand. A gigantic, corporeal dragon fills the room with a dazzling milky light.


Standing at the same height as Alduin, the monstrous Patronus is furiously looking about the ballroom. Not finding any danger, the spike filled ancient dragon circles around me protectively, constantly scanning about for threats.


I'm rendered speechless. Forced to look up at my guardian, I try to take everything in. The crystal white ancient dragon is absolutely beautiful. Love and happiness seem to be wrapping around me in tangible waves. Whether the feelings are coming from my success, or the Patronus doesn't matter.


This is simply amazing. I doubt I could use this to send messages like other wizards, but I don't doubt it's power against a dementor.


Reluctantly releasing the Patronus, I'm feeling absolutely giddy. It doesn't look like I need a wand after all. I just need to use the dovah language for spells involving my spirit or soul.


With a sudden bit of curiosity, I decided to test a theory. Using a basic magic structure, I point my hand to the table and command, "Ruvaak."


A black beam streaks our of my hand and strikes the tabletop. A large black raven quickly takes form. The raven seems to look around for a bit, before launching off the table.


Watching the raven's flight, I can't help but whisper, "This is so overpowered."

A man pulled into the multiverse by a cosmic being, and made into the physical form of his Skyrim character.

Sent into a crossover universe of Harry Potter and the MCU, follow along as the newly formed Breton tries to gain the power to break free of the cosmic being.

*Disclaimer*
I do not own the rights to MCU, Harry Potter, or Skyrim. I own nothing.

The morning breeze titillated his ears and a little sunlit passed through the hole from the window which tickled his eyes. He right away stood up from his mat on the wooden floor to check her but she's still asleep under the rugged blankets and piled up of used clothes. 

   " Magee, Magee, its already 9 o'clock, its time to check your pulse and body temp." 

  " Hmm...what time is it again George? I maybe have slept tight." She'd shrugged her messy long hair like cobwebs then leaned on the two piled up pillows on her back

   She still closed her eyes but spoken.

   " Don't pinch my ear." Then she sneered like a child.

   " Haha, its already 9 o'clock, c'mon, come closer. Let me check. Aha, your pulse rate and body temp are both okay, no worries."

  " How ironic, you never had any apparatus, how come you felt I'm okay."

  " Hmm, its a little secret...we're having our manual process also, you know." He smiled at her.

   After the manual checkup she grabbed a towel, malong and other stuffs then they both got down.

   " Slowly...." George had been very gentle in aiding her to get down.

   " Hmm, the table's all set. Where are my brothers?" Magee was looking around.

   There was a note on the table for him.

   " George, we brought the sacks of chicken to station one for our comrades. The area is a bit clean, just check it out. We'll fetch you in the coming days, I'll carry out the men in your absence, don't worry. Please take care of our sister. In Christ, Albrecht." A piece of note from the eldest among the siblings he's with.

   " I'll take a bath first." Then there she go.

    He went outside and found a spring in front of the house, he hurriedly took his towel from the second floor, got back running as well and enjoyed the unlimited flowing waters on his coconut shell water dipper. As soldiers does, they easily do things to maximize their time and after changing, he got back on the table. She's not yet done so he waited a little and concentrating on the viand next to her. 
    " Is it not the anaconda I slaughtered last night? Hmm, I could smell a lot of lemon grass on it. I doubt. It seems its it. Let me taste it, oh my...its just like a chicken!" He smiled for tasting an adobo snake for the first time.

   " What's that?" She's done bathing and just wrapped around her hair on top.

   " Ha? chicken isn't good for newly healed, I'll cook something for you.

   " Your eyes are lying, haha." Its not true, it seems that its tasty and you're afraid to share me some, isn't it?" 

   " Whoah! okay, sit down and taste this."

   " Hmm, its chicken, the slices are big enough. Its it, its the message of Albrecht to you that they brought sacks of it in station one. Good that they left us some.

   She took one, then two until George never knew already if how many slices she'd got.

   " George, let me ask you. Why you're such as close to my brothers, especially to Albrecht?"

   " Hmm, its because, he's the fiancee of my sister, that's why. They'll get married after this war. Aside from that, we're also neighbors in the US, its just block away and we're great buddies. My father works in the Marines and he's the closest friend of the Captain. Its how our family intertwined. Its also the reason why they trusted me too much since they knew where I live, supposed I'm going to abduct you. Are you afraid of me?" He naughtily smiled at her.

   " Ah, I see, a family friend and I'll be your future sister-in-law. No, I'm not afraid of you, Albrecht actually told me you're trusted." 

   " So, since there's sunlight around, I will dry you a little outside. Its been a week that you're hidden in station one, so you need vitamin E. Its sunbathing!" 

   " Most possible, I need it. Don't worry, I can just pose there and you may leave me supposed you still have to do something else."

   " I can't leave you like that. You'll be exposed under the sun for five minutes only and you'll get back upstairs while I'll do some general cleaning, from the second floor going down. Okay, here's the wooden chair, sit down in here and start bathing underneath."

    Magee then stayed underneath for around five minutes while he was watching at her enjoying the heat of the sun that gas passed tgrough the renaining fogs above. Then she stepped out smiling. 

   " Will it not hurt my wounds?" 
   " No, don't worry, the nurse is on duty."

   " Wow! I feel like a very special patient.

   " Exactly you are. Okay, since you're done so let's go up now. While recovering, that balcony is your ward."

   He locked the main door then they go up. 

  " Just stay here, enjoy combing your hair and read books.  Anyway, before I'll do the general cleaning, I'll send here some books I noticed around. I know you like books so I can easily bribe you with them."  

   " Haha, that's fine for me, go and feed me some."

   He immediately returned bringing some books and put them in front of her. To her surprise, she saw some of Lolo Sibal's handwriting on one of the journals that George has found out.

   She became silent and seriously reading. She'd got mixed emotions. At times she sighed, cried and mostly laughed at Lolo Sibal's humor. He write those things until he got back to Tikabanand when the Captain, Albrecht and Baldur went to America and left him alone. Even when he's already in Tikaban, he mentioned in the journal that he kept coming back in this secret house in Malapague, inside Kabang, and ensure that he can write something memorable for Magee and her family.Then Magee cried again and again until George tapped her shoulder.

   " Hmm...let's share our lunch now, or else, Albrecht might come back this early and will pinch your ear once more, which one?  Come."

   While they were in the table she was still very silent.

   " I became emotional about Lolo Sibal's writings. Without us knowing, he kept coming here to write and write with those old memories with my family. He had written things I was doubtful of; like, father have buried three separate gold bars in the well, yellowish bamboo and under the catsbao mango tree. Those three spots were dangerous too because there were equally mines on top of them. Seriously, the one that he brought given by my father was already enough for my education. Hmm...I missed him so much."
   " He's more than a biological family member, that's how the Captain described him. He took good care of your brothers while you were taken cared by Lolita. Its how he blamed himself after the death of your mother. He blamed himself for the lack of help and incapable enough as a friend. It made himself pay by devoting all his time to all of you and when your family went to US, he then focused on your education, its how I understand. So there, hey, you eat some more. I still have to continue cleaning and you still need to read at the balcony." He then put some more food on her plate.

   Lunctime went well and George got back mopping the wet rags all around the wooden furnitures and swept the inner part, harvesting the cobwebs. Magee did not know that he's into suspecting if there might be some family members of the green anaconda. That's seriously the reason if why he conducted the general cleaning. With all his wit and strength he finally finished at 5 o'clock in the afternoon.

   He felt like being dehydrated after carrying, moving and transferring some few things in the house to another setup and direction; looking if there's some kind of anaconda eggs. But nil. His body was full of sweats and tried to relax on a wooden chair at the sala when Magee asked went closer and gave her a small towel. 
   " Take this. I will just pass by and will try to cook for our dinner. You're too tired to do it."

   " No. stay put, that's an order. I can do it and I'm just inhaling and exhaling to regain some strength. You just sit down, okay? I'll just call you up when the food is ready."
   " What can I help?"

   " Nothing. Just wait."

   "Are you angry?"
   
   " No. I'm just a little tired." Then he smiled at her.

Reluctant of her roots, a 20 year old Magee and a Captain's daughter - was sent by Lolo Sibal to UST in 1938 to study Philosophy. Way back then, Lolo Sibal was a survivor of the 1918-1920 Spanish flu plague who was accidentally trapped , along with the Captain for twenty years in the legendary cave of Kabang. Interestingly, the Captain left to him the wealth for Magee's education and returned to the United States. In September, 1941 Magee has heard from a UP friend that the Japanese are coming in December of the same year so she returned home empty-handed and stayed with her family. Without them knowing, her father, the Captain who survived has returned to the Philippines for another military mission on the same month of September, 1941 and assigned the 25 year old 1Lt. George of the infantry and the in-charge of the platoons in combat to take care of his daughter in whatever means. One day, during the early weeks of the Japanese occupation, one of its officials named Hakanori proposed to Magee through her mother and agreed for the wedding. Magee was against to it despite her multiple attempts to escape. Accidentally, the night before her wedding, she fell into the abyss nearby their house and found herself the next day that she was with the Filipino guerillas together with the American and German soldiers. She noticed the Captain personally but only in a short encounter and there - he was gone. In the fight for freedom under the Japanese occupation, 1Lt. George used a different tactic and studied very well the terrains and natural habitat of the place. He led the disarming of any Japanese patrolling and collected all their weapons and uniforms, worn by Filipino Guerillas in disguising. He also applied sharpened bagacays in holes, pulleys, and ropes in all sorts, throwing rocks, powdered some poisonous plants and made antidotes, used herbs and root crops for their survival and even dug some exit points and tunnels all over just to reach the cave of Kabang. Alongside with Magee at war where he only started as his guardian through the Captain's request had smoothly twisted and subtly turned out that he became madly in love with her. One day...

"Since ancient times land immortal pass with the wind, today three kings return to eternal slumber.
Who would not experience failure? Verdant Sun died regretfully. Start over again and proclaim oneself as King.
The carp swims up the heavenly waterfall, traveling alone in the desolate lands and defying heaven.
Spreading my wings and flying away today, becoming an immortal and whipping the phoenix on another day!"
As he said so, Fang Yuan laughed loudly.
Everyone was speechless.
Only the land spirit shouted: "Grand aspirations, I will send you on your journey!"
Immortal essence entered the fixed immortal travel Gu, and jade light flashed, as Fang Yuan vanished from the air...

Blinking and with a light headache, Fang Yu-no Cruentus Strages Black woke up and looked at the book that he had used as a pillow whilst sleeping in the family and gave a soft sigh.
'Still nothing about reincarnation nor Immortality despite my years of research. Well, I will tell Arcturus about my reincarnation anyway, so I should ask him after that.'
"Kreacher!"
With a cracking sound an ugly, little creature with a bulbous, snout-like nose, bloodshot eyes, many folds of skin, and white hair growing out of his bat-like ears.
"Young Master has called?"
He nodded.
"Please tell me which time it is."
"Of course. It is 5. 43 PM Kreacher advises Young Master not to read till morning hours."
Cruentus grimaced but smoothed his expression and nodded.
"Is great-grandfather awake? If not notify him that I want to speak with him. After I am back in the library bring me something to eat and don't eavesdrop on our conversation."
"As you wish."
Cruentus made his way to the bedroom of his great-grandfather in this world and greeted the rest of his new ancestors in the paintings.
"Hello dear Lucretia, Pollux, Lycoris..."
"Oh? Cruentus, you have left your lair already and grace us with your presence?" asked a female portrait jokingly.
"Indeed great-aunt Lucretia. Afterall I must go and buy everything I need for Hogwarts in Diagon Alley with great-grandfather Arcturus's permission."
"Well then have fun and make your family proud!"
Cruentus hummed and knocked on the door of Arcturus's room.

"Enter, Cruentus."
He did as asked and found a dim-lit room, which was sparsely decorated. As he looked at the interior he heard the weak, but stern voice of his grandfather.
"So what did you want to tell me? I am pretty sure I gave you your Vault Key and the Cruentis that I know wouldn't need me to supervise me."
He closed the door and looked at his seated great-grandfather
 as he began to think about what happened to him.
He had used Fixed Travel Immortal Gu with the help of the land spirit of the Three King's inheritance to escape to Dang Hun mountain, but instead, he felt his soul being pulled at and shortly after he found himself in a hospital room as a baby.
Panicked he had tried to use his Gu but found that he was unable to use them other than Blood Moon Gu. In his shock he didn't even try to make out a target and used it wildly, causing both his mother and the healer, that was helping her, to die.
And the last whispered words of his new mother were, as of family magic decided, his name, which is why his name was a Latin translation of bloodthirsty and slaughter instead of a star or constellation as the rest of his paternal family.
But the current Lord Black didn't need to know this, so he told him a half-truth of how I was a Chinese muggle scholar, who after his death possessed the body of a newborn baby and used his "Pure Moon", as the Black Family had named it after they arrived at St. Mungus, out of shock at his new body.

As Arcturus Black III looked at the youngest scion of his family his frown began to intensify with every word and at the end of the explanation the room was coated in a heavy silence.
"This... Is this true? Not some bad joke?"
"I like to think I have a more refined sense of humor", came the dry answer
"Ah yes. So what would you gain if you tell me this situation of yours?"
"Is it so wondrous that I need someone to tell my sorrows to?" he said and acted hurt.
Arcturus rose one of his eyebrows and continued to look at him unbothered.
Cruentus clicked his tongue. "I want you to make me your Heir instead of my Uncle. You want to let your House gain glory and as future Heir, I would manage my foundation properly and let it prosper. From what I have discovered he would spend money without bothering about the future of the family. Also if you now some books about reincarnation, immortality, ghosts, possession or advanced necromancy, tell Kreacher to bring them to my room so I can put them in my trunk for further research."
Arcturus sighed as he looked after the old demon.

She already knew the sight but it amazed her so when she heard excited gasps from others she realized that she did the same.
There was a knee-deep river that came down from the top of the hill. On the flat ground from one side was a forest and from the other side was a meadow filled with various flowers and bushes. Looking downhill they could see the forest and other hills as well. Unfortunately, this place is many days' walk away from the seaside and many hills were between. But it was still an amazing sight.
She planned to make settlement from one side and fields from the other. But looking at the hard ground she realized that it won't be that easy.
''We could just cut the grasses and clear just enough for everyone to have a simple garden for now. rest we can clear next year. But first, let's prepare camp. Everyone get ready. Children, you are all free. You can go check the forest and the meadow. Take books with you. You might find some berries that we could eat. We would then transplant them later on. Check for healing plants as well. We better think about our health as well.'' Older children choose to go down to the lake and fish while smaller kids choose to take books and search trough the meadows for something useful.
Only grown-up stood in front of her and she counted 57 people including herself and sighed. ''This year we have enough to eat. But we do not know how will weather change. What season is it now? First, we will make camp and then in that corner... ''She pointed the place that was above the water level. '' ...we can make the wooden cottages. We will use the trees around but I plan to replant the trees as we might need them again in the future. I need ten people that will go to the forest and check if some trees are dry and mark them. We will use dry trees as our heating. I saw that the river has nice stones. we could use them to make fireplaces. So many things. So any volunteers?'' She saw half of the people raising their hands so she let them all go. 
She gave them one more task to bring as much dry wood as they could. They will need fire anyway. After they were gone, the rest of thems tarted preparing the tents. They put up all the tents they had. Luckily all of them took her recommendation to heart and bought old camping gears. 
That was strange tho. she really didn't think they would listen to her words. But this way is good. One older man was smiling at her mother and she got sunned. Wait, mom, flirty? But that was fine. It's better than being alone, like herself. 
One of the men tried to explain something he read in a book and everyone listened carefully.
''We have enough people. We can build houses by need. First for children, then for everyone else. We can use strong threes to cut their sides straight from three sides and the last side could be natural isolation. We can try first that way and later on we can make clay houses.''
One woman smiled. ''On our way here I saw clay near the sea. We can make bricks and build houses next year. Or with time. The wooden houses are not bad deals. What about making first a fireplace and then the house. Let's just try building one house and then more. Without trying, it will be quite hard.''
Everyone had ideas. And everyone brought some manuals and books. So what they did was to sit and compare the best way. When the gorp of people came back with a bunch of dry wood, they could hear clamor and laughter.
''No. First houses should be simple, why complicating it so much. By the way, you all do know there is no glass in this world. So do not think too much about making s many windows. you will just make your house lose precious heat.'' Sandra laughed when one man explained what kind of house he wanted.
''But sitting by the window and looking how the white snow falls...'' He tried to explain his dream but it was ruthlessly killed by her.
''You will wish that the whiteness passes as soon as possible. The winters last for others and all you can do is sit inside and wish not to kill you.'' She then saw the people coming back and smiled.
''Welcome back. Found many dead trees?'' She saw them bringing a bunch of dry branches and two men even pulled one long log behind them.
''Yes. But isn't it easier to just cut the woods here?'' One man showed nearby trees.
''We need these for house building. After that children will replant again the trees. I want you to clear as many dead trees as they are extremely dry. If there is storm and it hits dry trees we could be caught in mid of huge forest fire. To prevent that we need to clean as many dry trees as we can. That is one reason. The other is the fresh trees give bunch of smoke but no real heat. I read it here. She opened one of the manuals about surviving that had almost all pages completely yellow and green as it was in some corner rotting.''
They read it inside and were quite stunned. ''Oh, does that mean its better for us to use dead branches? What about houses. Fresh trees or dry ones?''
''Those pages are all unrecognizable I am not sure. But I think it's better than fresh ones. Next year we can start making clay bricks. Or this year we can try at least. But for this winter we need to be ready. I have no time what date it is. But, it is better if we hurry. We have enough food supplies for winter. We can plant some spring plants on time so we can have some fresh vegetables. And when we are done with making houses and clearing some garden space, I will give you bows and arrows and some of you can go hunt and another half can search for wild vegetables that we can dry. I will check with kids for wild herbs and healing plants. If nothing else we can drink some nice tea and enjoy wintertime like that. there is no more automated living space. You all came because you knew this.'' She could see the mood going down and smiled.
''I saw in one of your books something else that made me interested. If some of you like it, you can make tree houses or even a whole tree village. The trees in here seem to be strong. Making such a thing would be interesting for all of us, right?''
Everyone became excited again. ''What about storms?''
She thought about it and smiled. ''We can use the houses in this corner as winter houses and those on trees as summer houses. Like that we will have nice air in summer and no bug bites and in winter we could be safe and sound by earth and enjoy the heat of the fireplace.'' 
They all suddenly had many ideas that made her laugh. ''I know you all have amazing ideas. Let's do it this way. We finish as planned winter houses and straight after that made summer houses. We can cut some trees over there in the other forest and leave our trees standing as our protection. Then we can bring trees and dry wood here and prepare everything at the same time. It will be hard, can you all do it?''
Everyone cheered in agreement and they separated jobs. Part of men and females went first to try to cut some trees while rest started clearing the place where they will build up the houses. Soon cheers could be heard from the hills and soon first logs could be seen as they were pulled back. 
Strangely, everyone had understood the way the cottages were made so soon a big one-room cottage was made. Then second then third. Not small ones... Big ones. 
They had enough people and with all those ideas they just stated making houses like crazy. 
To transfer logs they used smaller logs that they put on their path and rolled over it. 
Of course, they saw it from the books about old Egyptian people. So dozen people cut trees, dozen people clean the trees from branches and cut them in a sizable manner and rest of people ( including Sandra) brought the log after log near the place. After they saw a mountain of the logs they started making houses by the manuals.
Of course, there would be arguments, broken fingers, cuts and loud laughter after all. By evening all the children came back and explained what they found.
''Miss, we found wild potatoes, garlic, tomatoes, strawberries and mushrooms, so many of them.'' The children that went to the forest explained. 
She sighed. Her memory was so bad that she forgot their names as soon as they got out of her eyes. She could remember unrelated things, but names...
But she had time. These people and children will stay around here for a long time. She will learn their names after living with them for a while, right?
''Good job. If there's a lot of potatoes, we will harvest it when the leaves start to whiter. Tomorrow go and mark places where you found potatoes. Next year we can plant it. Same with everything else. By the way. You can gather fruits and bring them here. We can eat some and dry some for wintertime. Just enjoy. This year you can play as much as you want. With the caution of course. About mushrooms. If you are sure that they are edible bring them. If you are not completely sure, don't pick them up. With time we will learn about them as well.''
 They should just enjoy a nice time while they can.

This world is on the verge of destruction. Wars, sicknesses, elemental catastrophes, everything was polluted so much that companies started seeling clean air and purified water. Starvations.
But Sandra by chance found a connection to the parallel universe and choose to take all her family and friends with her.
Join them in their trials to survive unknown possibilities and dangers. 
But at the same time wonderful adventures and lovely together time.
The new world they created with a simple name Osei. 
( If this word is connected to something weird please let me know so I can change it. :)''

If you want, you can support me here:
https://www.patreon.com/bePatron?u=34498804

Because Xiao Luo was against her, Huang Ruoran had always despised him. She wished that he was not even in the class at all. However, when this loathsome boy had appeared at her most desperate moment and rescued her like some sort of savior, Huang Ruoran's hatred for him crumbled in an instant.
She had a fair complexion, refined facial features, and slender, arched eyebrows. Then there were those cynical, dark eyes…
Huang Ruoran was sitting in the backseat on the passenger's side and staring blankly at the man in the front seat. Her heart was unable to settle.
"What's your name, pretty lady?" Zhang Dashan asked with a smile while looking at Huang Ruoran in the car's rearview mirror.
"Huang Ruoran."
"Oh. Ruoran. My name is Zhang Dashan. I'm Xiao Luo's trusty old partner. My nickname is Cannon, but you can call me by my real name, Dashan. Although Cannon also works!" Zhang Dashan giggled, attempting to lighten up the atmosphere.
Huang Ruoran could not understand his sense of humor, so she didn't give him any response. She just sat on her seat without saying a word. The fear she had just experienced still lingered in her mind. The ambiance inside the car instantly plunged into an awkward silence.
Zhang Dashan wasn't giving up. He didn't believe that he couldn't liven things up. After a couple of dry coughs, he said, "Ruoran, let me tell you a joke. A monkey is sitting in a tree. When a big truck passes beneath the tree, it stops. Guess why?"
Seriously? Such an old school joke?
Xiao Luo couldn't help but shake his head. He refused to believe that this was the first time Huang Ruoran heard this joke. He glanced at the back seat out of the corner of his eyes. As expected, Huang Ruoran remained indifferent. She was in a daze as if in some faraway land.
Zhang Dashan continued, "Because the truck driver thought that the monkey's a*s was a red light! Don't you think he's stupid? He's really stupid, right? Hahaha…"
As he finished telling the joke, he cracked himself up and even teared up.
After only four or five seconds, he discovered that Huang Ruoran wasn't reacting to his punchline at all. Beside him, Xiao Luo studied him expressionlessly.
"I—isn't it funny?" Zhang Dashan asked.
"Not at all," Xiao Luo said, not mincing his words.
Zhang Dashan spread his hands and retracted his neck. "Well, awkward!"
"Just focus on driving. Don't go the wrong way again," Xiao Luo exhorted.
Zhang Dashan became agitated and raised the pitch of his voice as he said, "F*cker, if I go the wrong way again, I swear I won't touch another girl ever again in my life!"
Half an hour later, they were finally back at Huaye.
Although Huang Ruoran was still badly shaken, she refused Zhang Dashan's offer to drop her directly at her dorm. When she got out of the car, she bowed deeply to Xiao Luo and Zhang Dashan and said, "Thank you."
Then, she turned around and returned to school.
Xiao Luo understood her very well. She had a strong personality. Unlike the other girls, she wouldn't so readily accept help and affection from boys.
"That girl isn't bad, you know. Look at how small the crack is between her legs. I think she's still a virgin! Xiao Luo, hurry up and take her down," chuckled Zhang Dashan while looking at Huang Ruoran's back.
"Do you have anything else inside your brain besides that one thing?" Xiao Luo said directly.
"C'mon bro. Our ancestors used to say that the desire for food and sex is part of human nature. Can you not be so uptight? In our society today, wolves are abundant, and meat is scarce. So, if you don't bang a pretty girl, someone else will, sooner or later. Why not take the good stuff for yourself? You shouldn't restrain yourself too much. YOLO!" Zhang Dashan preached earnestly.
"Dubious nonsense."
Xiao Luo rubbed his nose, then shifted the topic of conversation. "Oh yeah? Are you really gonna go wh*ring later?"
Go wh*ring?
Zhang Dashan's expression changed immediately. "The heck? How can you say that and still look so dignified? Don't you feel ashamed?"
"Are you telling me that you're not after wh*res by going to that night club?" Xiao Luo shot him a glance.
"Bro, stop using the word 'wh*re,' please. It's not elegant at all."
Zhang Dashan made his face serious and said solemnly, "Okay, here it is then. Didn't you eat a pineapple stick outside the club last time? From now on, we will refer to this classy and elegant activity as 'pineappling.'"
Xiao Luo was speechless. He was a little bit thankful that his sister hadn't fallen for this guy.
******
Back at the dorm, before Xiao Luo even opened his door, he heard groaning coming from inside.
When he walked in, the room was in a mess. Cups, books, boxes were all over the floor. The chairs were turned over. Xiao Luo's area, in particular, was chaos. It looked like it had been overrun by bandits.
Zhu Xiaofei and Ding Kai were lying on their beds with bruises all over their bodies. Their clothes were torn. Zhu Xiaofei was in especially bad shape. The corners of his lips were inflamed, and his eyes were so swollen that they looked like two squinting lines.
"B-brother Luo…" Zhu Xiaofei and Ding Kai called to Xiao Luo.
"What happened here?" Xiao Luo asked.
"It was the people from the mixed martial arts club. They came looking for you but couldn't find you here, so they beat us up instead," Ding Kai explained through gritted teeth. No matter how timid he may be, he couldn't hold back his anger after taking such a beating.
Zhu Xiaofei spat out a mouthful of blood and said with rage, "Those bastards. Wait until I get better. I will make them pay for what they did today. Even if it means getting expelled!"
"There's no need to wait until then. I will make them pay sooner rather than later."
Xiao Luo's face turned grim. He had tolerated one incident after another. Still, Song Jian and his gang continued to provoke him repeatedly. He had reached the last straw. "Where's the mix martial arts club?"
Zhu Xiaofei's heart stiffened. "Brother Luo, what are you going to do? Don't act recklessly!"
"You and Kaizi should rest in the room. Just tell me where the mixed martial arts club is," Xiao Luo said calmly. However, a terrifying chill could be felt coming from deep within his eyes.
Zhu Xiaofei paused for a moment then said, "They're located at the indoor basketball court next to the swimming pool. That place is the training ground for the mixed martial arts, taekwondo, karate, and wushu clubs. The school specially approved that site for them."
"Got it."
Xiao Luo stood up, opened the door, and left.
Zhu Xiaofei and Ding Kai exchanged glances, and each could see the intense worry in the other's eyes.
"Kaizi, do you think something bad will happen?"
"I don't know. If brother Luo doesn't return in half an hour later, let's call the counselor," Ding Kai said.
Zhu Xiaofei nodded in agreement. Just now, something about Xiao Luo's expression had chilled them to the bone. Xiao Luo wasn't someone who would compromise. Still, there were more than a hundred people in the mixed martial arts club, and Xiao Luo was on his own. No matter how great of a fighter he may be, he couldn't possibly take on more than a hundred opponents. If Song Jian and the others failed to hold themselves back for a moment and injured Xiao Luo, then Zhu Xiaofei would feel uneasy for the rest of his life.
...
Although it was almost 11 o'clock at night, and the mixed martial arts club was still as bright as day. People were training inside the venue.
Aside from the members of the mixed martial arts club, there were also many from the other clubs. After all, that night, Song Jian had challenged the school's fiend, Xiao Luo, to a fight. Although Xiao Luo wasn't here yet, the others had all arrived with the utmost anticipation. They were eager to see if Xiao Luo was really as brutal as the legends made him out to be. Two members of the mixed martial arts club gossiped at the door during their water break:
"What a waste of excitement. That jerk doesn't even dare to show up."
"Yeah, right. He's so afraid that he doesn't dare return to his own dorm. We are only flattering him by saying that he's 'wukong.'"
"I wonder how this piece of trash ended up being a celeb on our school's forum. Xiao Luo the fiend? More like Xiao Luo the coward."


Xiao Luo and his girlfriend had been in love with each other for four years when she proposed a break up. Because of this, Xiao Luo sped his car in the night and ended up in a car accident. But it was a blessing in disguise as he unexpectedly fused with a high tech system that originated from a universe hundreds of billions of light years away. From this moment on, the entire world started to run amok.....

It burns.

If nothing else, it burns. In the dark … in the dark, I cannot see it. But I can still feel it. Even after all of these years, the memory of it remains … burned upon the stygian depths of my expanded being like a brand upon my chest. To be marked by one's deeds … if my deeds were to be judged by the mark that I carry, I would deserve the fate that has befallen me.

My fate … an ongoing divine Comedy of Manners—a dialogue of dry wit, intrigue, and cleverness long since gone trite with its latest telling. I sit upon a great throne in a chamber that is all my own—a part of a vast empire whose reputation of fear will endure the ages, if not the power behind it all. My domain spans the distance with pure, unadulterated power, and cold, immoral expansionism.

This was a story begun with violent ambition—an ambition that consumes all in its path. It was … it is an ambition that burns. But like all flames, it shines brightly, spreads across barriers, destroys them, and reduces all into ashes. When born, fire consumes its womb to ashes, but eventually to those ashes must it return. Then there is darkness—the cool, soothing blackness that cocoons me, protects me … and suffocates me.

It is the source of my strength, you see. To call down darkness upon my enemies, and to blot out the very light that I once loved … and now hate so much. Although, now that I ponder over this conundrum, I see that distinctions between hatred and love, darkness and light, tend to blur together in my mind and cancel each other out. Was I blinded by the blazing light or arrogance, or made sightless by the darkness that is my power?

Whatever the casualty of my existence, I still have one mote of humor left even after all this time. Namely, I still possess my sense of irony. What is it, you ask? I will tell you—that I, a Lord of Darkness—am as blind as the drones under my command. Only in my element can I see the black blood of this pen purging me of my painful years of brooding, staining the purity of the parchment that will spread, surgically divide, and consume the white. A fitting analogy considering that I finish the last page of the story in that fashion. A story ends in darkness. Of course … it can begin from darkness as well …



Part 1

Ol-arys khyl' altai 
The Book is oneself infinite, 
Word stronger than sword, 
the Pen possibility incarnate.


A story does begin with but a single word. Words are powerful things, although for the most part they are indeed taken for granted. Most simply use them to communicate with as minimal difficulty as they can—appreciating only their most pragmatic and utilitarian of uses. However, there are very few who can understand that words are the outlet of one's innermost ideals—an expression of an idea, or its form, while the meaning or idea behind it is its essence.

When used properly, they can be great and persuasive enough to create and preserve governments, philosophies, and religious movements. But then there are a select few individuals in all the Realms who have an inherent understanding, that there are some Words whose essence makes up a greater whole than anyone could have imagined—representing grand and ancient cosmic powers undreamed of.

So yes, words are important. But over time, a word or even its cosmic equivalent can lose its meaning. Governments grow corrupt, faulty and weak. Philosophies are used so many times that their essences become lost in the sophisms that become their forms. Religious institutions, once founded on open spiritualism, become hollow, and intolerant. It was from the latter that I came—trapped and blinded within the clutches of the fanatical, religious zeal that was my birthright. So maybe I was wrong. Perhaps my story did begin in light―a searing and unforgiving one.

I do not remember the exact name of the Realm I was born in, but I remember what it was like. The buildings of my city were enormous and oval shaped, made from a stone of the purest white, and their windows were crystalline and multifaceted. Everyone called it the City of Light. It was beautiful and pristine, I will grant you. At night, the city glowed with a radiance that would have fooled many foreigners into thinking that it was in eternal morning.

Yet the Great Temple of Oru dwarfed even the purity of the Realm's capital city. It was a monolith of an alabaster cathedral with a multitude of glimmering rainbow lights refracted from the Crystal Spire which lay in its center—an ornate dagger embedded within a sinner's soul. It also served as the heart of the Theocracy of Oru.

And when I had my migraines, I remember having to hide in the darkest, deepest chamber I could find in order to keep away from that infernal, incessant light that everyone else loved so much. Otherwise, the glow of the buildings and walls would blind me, and the shining light caught in the diamond edges of the windows would pierce my skull like thousands of tiny, white-hot shards of pain. The very sight of the Great Temple to the Realm's patron deity itself would have probably induced a seizure in me in those days. So I hid from that light. 

Perhaps that was only a small part of the reason my father despised me so much—a small, yet essential part.

My family were devout worshipers of Oru, much like everyone else in most, if not all, of the Realm. However, let me explain that when I say 'devout', I am really attempting to create an understatement. Perhaps the words 'obsessive', 'fanatical', and 'small-minded' would better suffice. 

Oh yes, and the only difference between my family and other citizens of the City of Light was that we were more 'devout' than even they. Or at least it seemed that way when you were a member of the family of a Priest of Oru. My father was the patriarch of our family in every sense of the word—ruling over our minds, bodies, and souls as he did with the rest of the populace. My mother, although she was subservient to his whims, was just as pious—if not gentler. She had to deal with the whims of my two other siblings—a bunch of miserable, whining brats.

I remember my mother most of all. She was tall, and willowy, her long hair was brown—almost black. Those born with black hair in the City of Light were usually shunned as creatures of darkness, and killed when they are born. My mother, however, belonged to a noble family and she was saved from this tradition by being put into an arranged marriage with my father—a man almost twice her age.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not she wished for the death they denied her. There were times I thought I saw roots of black in her coiled brown hair. 

Her life was not that much more merciful. My Priest father ignored her for the most part, letting her three children drain the life and vitality out of her like the little blood-sucking leaches we were at that age. While I grew out of infancy all too quickly, the other leaches grew up to be full-fledged vampires—little monsters that grew stronger off her growing weakness. There were times I would look at the deep lines engraved onto her visage and see some semblance of the beauty she must have possessed at one time.

I must have been my mother's favorite, even though she never spoke about it. Then again, she never spoke much of anything. Long ago, something must have happened to her throat. I knew this because I saw a fine slash scar on her throat where her voice box was located. Indeed, as with many organized patriarchal cultures modeled for a 'male god' by 'pious' men, one general rule is that a woman should be seen and not heard. Another tradition in our Realm was that if a woman speaks out against her patriarch, or shows any evidence of learning something she should not know, he has the right to rob her of her voice. 

Perhaps he did that to her, but whether it was successful or not was a mystery. Indeed, there were many whisperings about such things among the servants when they thought that I was ignorant or unhearing. Of course, such talk was rare because they wanted to keep their voice boxes intact. But when I looked into my mother's eyes, I saw a keen intelligence behind her submissive facade. In case you are wondering, despite the fact that she did not talk, I knew her to be a pious woman because I always saw her silently praying, and bowing before our altar at home. Most likely that was all she had ever known. She needed someone to pray to when my father became angry with her—to pray to for mercy ... and to pray to for forgiveness to have made the first prayer. If her voice was undamaged, she learned to hide it very well. Able to speak or no, she protected me from the worst of my father's wrath.

In the eyes of the citizenry, my father was a divine figure—a living incarnation of Oru's power in the mortal plane. In his robe of purest white and woven gold symbols, he recited his sermons, his blessings, and occasionally curses, for the masses. They believed him and the other Priests to be deified saints made flesh once more—wise beings that needed to be venerated without question. 

In reality, my father was a solid, stout man with thinning iron-gray hair, and a perpetually dead-set expression on a pockmarked face. The robes and the headdress made him look like some divine saint, but underneath the pristine facade he wore in public I knew him to be an intolerant, black-hearted and petty tyrant. In other words, the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. I will not go into the kinds of actions he committed in his so-called 'divine' role nor will I waste anymore paper and ink to record down his mad rambling. The only ranting that you will see here is mine—for at least mine has a method, and a reason of origin behind it.

At any rate, it was custom (as were many other things) for the eldest born of a Priest to follow in his sire's footsteps in the worship of the Almighty Oru, and my father had high expectations for me. Or at least he called them 'high'. I called them impossible. My other siblings were left alone and nothing was expected from them, but since they were the children of a powerful Theocrat certain allowances were made for them. In other words, they did whatever they wanted to whomever or whatever they wanted. But such was not my case. 

I was, at best, a frail child. When I think about it, my father had considered killing me when I was but an infant. His rationale was that he wanted a strong, healthy heir, not a weak, pathetic, little wretch like me. Somehow, perhaps because of my mother's good graces, I was spared—allowed to live a life of indoctrination, abuse, and neglect when I was not needed. Obviously, I was never really that talkative.

Early in my life, I learned that talking back to my father brought consequences. His physical abuse became less constant as I got older, and it began to transmute more into mental and verbal lashings. Every day I learned his prayers, the ceremonies, and the rituals.

In the classroom at the Great Temple, my education continued along with those of the other children.

"And so Oru came to our people aeons ago to end the blasphemies that kept our Realm a warring, heathen backwater. We learned of how He had no physical form, and that He had told our people to gather the wisest and eldest of men together so that He might bestow His divine knowledge upon them," I remember our teacher explaining with a stern face. "Can anyone tell me what the role of the female is in the Realm of Oru?" 

A girl raised her hand, "Woman cannot learn how to read or write because we shed blood monthly. Blood begets blood. To teach Those Who Shed Blood," she recited one of the laws of Sacred Text dictated to her by word of mouth, "would be to allow the bloodshed and division to rise anew. Only can a true Handmaiden, ordained by Oru, be considered pure, and even she is not taught how to read or write," she ended off, and our teacher nodded approvingly.

The female students, who were usually Handmaidens to be ('divine concubines' in the making), were taught orally. Only males could have this knowledge and enforce the Will of the Light—for they were closer to Him, made in His image, and did not go through menstruation. We males were taught through reading and writing. But even we had our limitations. 

I also learned that those first High Priests and their lesser brethren had been oath-bound to reproduce with the purified Handmaidens of their Lord and teach their oldest male heirs the wisdom of Oru—to read and write only of His greatness and nothing more. I learned and recited these things under my father's stern, cold dark eyes, and his equally cold iron fist.

And every day I felt my soul waning. It was though a fist closed over it—suffocating the life out of it. Perhaps that was my first taste of darkness—the suffocation and the inflicted blindness. Yet I did have one mode of escape—a mode that even he could not control. 

My writing ...

I wrote of imaginary places, of strange creatures, and people much different from our own. There was no mention of Oru or the Theocracy in those writings that I held dear. It was an outlet for my imagination, and my imagination alone. I could build worlds for myself—worlds born from infinite possibility. Each of these stories or writings also helped ease my headaches—pains in my skull that would grip me when I hadn't written anything in a long time. No one knew about my little transgression against one of Oru's commandments.

As I became an adolescent, I ventured outside more often and explored the rest of the city—particularly its marketplaces. I bought books from the other Realms—material that was legally censured by the Theocracy under the strictest of penalties. After I read the books, I generally sold them back to some traders, furtively glancing around to make sure that no one recognized me and that I was not being followed.

One day, another person, a girl, sought some books from a trader that I also desired. We bartered over those books, and she was furious at me for getting in her way, "I want these books," she hissed at me, the fire behind her eyes all too evident. "Some of us need to read so that we can survive another day."

"For this book? Oh spare me, please. It is a bloody storybook."

"Some of us," her voice was still fierce, but there was an odd catch in her throat. "Some of us need all the fantasy we can get our hands on ..." 

I closely examined her face. That was perhaps the only important thing that my father did tell me was that if you stared hard enough into a person's face, or their eyes, you could divine their intentions, or at least get an idea of what they were feeling. It helped him when he had to go manipulate the masses.

The girl was smaller than me; almost petite. I cannot describe her body's appearance even now. It you were to compare her to a structure, an architect would say that she possessed very few angles, and was mostly composed of curves.

Indeed, her arms, legs, and hips were shaped and connected in smooth, fluid curves. Her skin was smooth, slightly darker than mine, and her pearl white teeth bit into her ruby lower lip. Her reddish copper hair was shaped into curls, and a strand of it hung over her left eye. When I looked into her large, brown eyes ... I was transfixed by the feral nature behind them, the raw need for something more, and the voraciousness for learning ...

I knew that one look from those eyes would allow me to commit the ultimate blasphemy. She was both a Blooded One (not blessed by the Theocracy to be a Handmaiden) and she looked like she had exotic, foreigner origins. She wasn't even part of our religion.

"How much do you know how to read?" I asked her.

"Huh?" she looked surprised; her gaze suggested otherwise.

"Well?" 

"Um ... a little, I guess. Why?"

"I can help you," I offered.

Her eyes seemed to devour my own, and I thought for a second that her face softened. "It's been a while since someone has come to talk to me. Who are you? You don't seem to be from around here."

I gave her my name. And she gave me hers.

"I-I will see you again. Here," I gave her the book and paid the trader.

"You didn't have to ... thank you," and she ran off.

Victorie was her name.

If you are reading this, my successor, then you have destroyed me and taken the power that was mine.

Rejoice, my destroyer. You have the lore that you have been looking for, and now you can begin to implement your dream of how the world, how the Story, should be.

Chapter nineteen:

After walking out of the study Feng Qi's face was dark enough to drip ink. The entire hallway felt like it traveled back to the ice age as he walked toward his servant. 

"Where did Princess Meng go?" He asked creating an illusion of the calm before the storm. Shadow one didn't dare to speak and only pointed in the direction Meng went. A smile lacking any humor grew on Feng Qi's face.

"Good... very good... she dares to run off after creating this kind of mess. You were right Shadow one it's about time I payed her back for her kindness."

....

Traveling toward the royal library Meng felt a shiver go down her back. Feeling paranoid she carefully looked both ways before sighing in relief. That person should be just leaving the study by now....

Mend felt a bit guilty toward Feng Qi for chaining him to her, but she knew it was the best option. In the book, one of Feng Qi's most damaging traits is the fact that he never got close to anyone. He always put some kind of distance, which soon became a habit of his. 

Without being able to connect to people he had a severe shortage of close followers. In fact they could be counted on one hand: Shadow one, Shadow two, and all the way up to five.

Considering the fact that they all acted as shadows, it would be safe to say that in the book, Feng Qi had no supporters. One man against the world might sound grand, but in the end, it's very difficult. The higher sect's went after him and all of his shadows when he later on breaks the ancient law of being a cultivator who exceeds the earth rank without being apart of a sect. He was powerful, however without lots of money or any kind of connections he was doomed to fall short of the resourceful sects. 

She had to be shameless in order to throw him off that path and on to a new one. Based off of the book, her being his fiancé shouldn't hurt his future much as in the novel he didn't have a fated love one. 

To be clear Meng didn't feel love for Feng Qi and if he did meet a girl she approved of she wouldn't mind stepping aside. All she felt for him was admiration and protectiveness. He was her only light in her past life and she would make sure that light never goes out in this one.

When Meng reached the royal library she slid inside before closing the door tightly behind her. Standing in the dark, old library gave her a sense of comfort and protection making her forget about the fear of Feng Qi finding her. 

Looking around, her eyes lit up like fireworks seeing all of the books lining the shelves. Her entire body shook with excitement as she picked up random books and flipped through them inhaling the familiar scent. 

The library seemed to never end, going so far that those who didn't cultivate couldn't see the ending. However, Meng estimated that it around 5 acres. 

A slight grin grew on her face. "Looks like a really lucked out!" She exclaimed to herself in wonder.

"Can I help you with anything?"  A old librarian walked out from behind a shelf. Seeing the beautiful child in red he couldn't help from being surprised. 

Commoners barely come to library because it's closed off from them and royals barely come because they would rather focus on cultivation than read books. 

Some of the books were about cultivation too, but because they were very hard to read many people would rather learn it from a master. Also, cultivation itself was more of something learned through experience not books. 

He quickly assumed the child must be here to fool around and felt annoyed. however, from the looks of her, she seemed to be someone of high standing so he shouldn't be rude.

Seeing the wrinkle in the old man's head, Meng could tell that he was annoyed with her, however why should she care? Books were her home she didn't need any assistance. Even though these books weren't on a computer... and seem super old... Meng toughened her stance and focused on the books ahead of her. 

"No thank you." Meng said humbly nodding her head at the librarian before walking into the sea of book. 

The librarian just shook his head before going back to his office.

Once she heard the librarians foot steps getting farther away, she started to look through books for one that could help her with cultivation. As she currently wasn't the previous Ru Gu Meng she had no idea about how to cultivate. The novel touched on the subject, but it wasn't nearly enough for her to even start to do it. As she was from an entirely different world, she needed to know the foundations for cultivation.

The advantage that she recently found out that got from transmigration is that, now when she closed her eyes and thought about the book she no longer just remembered texts, she could see images as if she were a ghost watching in the place of the narrator.

Meng felt that once she learned the basics of cultivation she should be able to copy the 'God Flying Phoenix'  method of the MC to be able to get up to the bottleneck of the martial level. She was transmigrated to this world two years before Feng Qi is exiled from the sun kingdom, which when it came to the decades it took to cultivate, was barely time at all. She needed to prepare as soon as possible.

Meng's finger glided across the books on the bottom shelf. From the names she could tell she found the right section of the library, however finding out the best one from the ocean of books was impossible. 

"Sigh. I'll start with this one then." Grabbing a book that seemed to be what she was looking for she sat down on one of the couches and started to read.

[The basics of cultivation include ten levels that are apart of the martial rank. This is the easiest level to reach as it is the beginning level. A cultivators biggest challenge is getting past the tenth level of this realm. In order to make sure that you get past this level any cultivator needs to have a solid foundation. In order to build this foundation you have to master the basics of finding your inner-self. The more of your inner-self you can find, the stronger your cultivation will be in the end. Cultivation is building up your soul making it reach bounds beyond what is possible.]

Meng's eyebrows crinkled together as she glared at the colorful language the text used. Maybe if the authors for cultivation books were more straight forward reading would actually be a popular task...

Meng Yin, a shut in, dies of a broken heart when the author of a novel kills off her favorite character. She wakes up as a mob character of that very same novel called Ru Gu Meng. 

Realizing that she had transmigrated in the same novel of the character who gave life to her horrible world, she swears to make sure that this time he won’t be the one that dies. Reborn as a princess of a lowly kingdom, Meng has to dig herself up through political turmoil and murderous sect’s to protect the only light she has left. 

Follow Ru Gu Meng into a mystical world of cultivation, demons, and magic. Where she uses her intellect, power, and instinct to carve a way for the person she will always protect. 

No matter the cost, those who harm the one’s she protects will die!

———————————————————————

*Main character is not sane at all at the first part of the story due to extreme child abuse. Therefore while reading the story please keep that in mind if she accidentally or meaningfully murders some people or acts wildly.

*The main character does not start out smart as she is literally a shut in who has only been outside a few times in her entire life. 

*Release: Book is being edited.

*Picture does not belong to me.

*Tags:

[Femaleprotagonist] [Reincarnation] [Yandere] [AntiHero]

dry humor books

Bone dry

your everyday dark humor :)

Magic Farmer Dara - 2nd Edition

Professor Dovahkiin

Abyss of Silent Heroes

Deleted.p

Took them to the past

The Genius System Without Equal

The Last Page

The Villain’s Bodyguard

People search dry humor books also like: