Mechanical God Emperor - Chapter 18 – Fiend Morph

There is a very strange restaurant in the City of Sin.

Elves and dwarves must share a table, orcs are strangely well behaved, dragons are only welcomed on the small square in front of the restaurant, and the demons must bring their own stool.

This strange restaurant with their strange rules continuous to attract a long line of customers.

“This place serves the best food! The chef of this restaurant is a genius!” Some of the guests in the restaurant left glowing reviews. But these guests have a word of warning for other guests, “No matter what you do, never, never attempt to kidnap the boss or try to ‘eat and run’. You will die.”

A cute little girl stood near the door, and demanded in her tiny voice, “You have eaten the food, now pay up, or I will beat you to death.” The five-meter tall dragon suddenly felt a chill running up its spine.

A miracle doctor is exiled to an alternate savage world and forced to change his scummy ways!

Having thoroughly offended God, Yan Mo’s soul was transmigrated to another world. He quickly understood the cruelty of this world he’s in. The reason he was hit unconscious by someone and brought back to his home, was to be that primitive man’s food reserves in winter. The tribe he is in is a super spartan primitive tribe, the people here only respect two things: Combat power! Fighting ability! The former is the fighting power in battles, the latter is…

……

Examine illness? Chinese medicine? Drink those bitter sandy things? The hell is that? Are you trying to murder our tribe’s warrior? Die!

Plant wheat? Raise pigs and chickens? We are warriors, not s*aves! Die!

Teaching the women to make clothes and cook? Make them soap and perfume? F*ck, he’s actually seducing our women! Die!

You’re a messenger of god? Here to lead us to a better life? Very well. We’ll give you one day, conquer all of our enemies, make them into sl*ves and bring them back. If you can’t, you’re dead!

Yan Mo: “……”

Dear tired Reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, gloomy aisles of the Library.It is with some regret, however, that I must inform you this book is ill.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised Proliferation of tissues on the surface of the Skin of the book,The words written in days of old are like Parasites taking root in the pages, longing for someone to observe their writhing,To sense, to decipher, and to touch the very essence of this sick story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please be sure to regularly check your own physical condition.Keep in mind.

[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.