The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse - Chapter 670 : Queenie’s Origin

Yan Yi Ming transmigrated into the hottest otome game at present. She became a female cannon fodder destined to be ruthlessly abandoned by the male protagonists; a stepping stone on the white moonlight female protagonist’s path to success.

The system informed her that only by replacing the female protagonist and becoming the white moonlight of the male protagonists then could she successfully escape and return to her world. After years of painstaking efforts, utilizing all kinds of strategies, and adopting various identities did she finally succeed in conquering the four male protagonists. She recovered her true body and eagerly awaited to go home but found that she was unable to go back.

A weak reminder from System:

Please read the user manual carefully: –

1. Become a white moonlight, and

2. To extricate oneself and make a successful retreat from the male protagonists.

Yan Yi Ming looked at the second condition and suddenly found herself in a pickle.

- Description from Novelupdates

Xue Xi is forced to fall in love at first sight with this dangerous man on their first meeting. With death being the only other option, she makes the first move:

This novel is also known as The World Is A Wasteland: I Obtained A Top Tier Shelter

The meteorite destroyed the world, and the global people traveled to the wasteland world!

The monstrous flood, the ice age, the advent of alien beasts, the plant plague…

Under the random disaster once every seven days, if you want to survive, you must build a higher-level shelter!

Lin Yue awakened the 100% treasure chest system, and since then he has opened up a completely different style of painting from others.

Others: “The explosion rate of the treasure chest is too low? I still haven’t killed fifty mutant creatures!”

Lin Yue: “There are too many boxes and there is no room in the inventory. Do I have to upgrade the shelter to build a warehouse? Oh, it’s so annoying.”

- Description from novelbuddy

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

******

“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.