MTL - She Came To My Concert - Chapter 9

Reborn into a world shaped by ashen storms, brutal blizzards, and sword-wielding sorcerers, Arilyn must forge his own path.Magic is abundant, spread far and wide by the realm-spanning Grand Spell. Even in the frail body of a newborn, Arilyn is rewarded with attributes, points, and power simply for stubborn hard work. Yet not everything is as bright as it seems. Legends walk the land, and the Blight Lords are hell-bent on resurrecting the Old God.None of this should have mattered to him, living on the fringe of the empire—until strange rumblings rise from the heart of the Candor Mountains.What to Expect: • [Reincarnation, but the MC does not retain any memory of his past in the beginning.]• [Slice of Life, Crafting, Spellcrafting, Training, Slow burn, Weak to Strong, and silly things] • [LitRPG elements, Detailed Magic system, Greek/Roman Empire-esque settings]• [Magic Academy, Eventually]• [Beast Companion?] • [No harem]

Dual Cultivation is an art. The more you focus on doing the art, the worse it becomes. Only when doing it becomes part of the art itself, does one truly experience it to its fullest.

Feng slowly backed up to the door, “W—what’s up with you both?” Two tall blond men stalked closer and caged her in the corner, “Aiden, Ethan, you both are too—too close,”

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?