Step Aside, My CEO Ex-Husband! - Chapter 93 - 94 You Will Have Good Luck 10

What if Magic has always existed ever since the beginning of the Earth we are living on, but history has been written in order to hide these facts. What if the prosperous and well-known people in history is actually a mage?

Enter a magic academy, rule your country. Be at the pinnacle of life! Join me in the journey of Emery and the others in the world of Knights and Magic as he becomes the Earth's Greatest Magus.

Polishing antiques in the basement was supposed to be a punishment. When monsters arrived, it saved Emma’s life. Now sealed inside a suit of armor old when the world was young, Emma Knight will have to master newfound powers she’d long regarded as merely myth; all whilst navigating the breakdown of society and delving through dungeons in search of the truth behind the apocalypse. How’s that for a Sworded Affair? What to expect: LitRPG, Progression, Dungeons and the Apocalypse. What not to expect: Harem, Smut, Drama or Tragedy.

Molitia Clemence was born sickly.

She forgot to cover herself with a blanket and caught a cold. She woke up next to her husband after 10 days just because of a slight cold.

Molitia barely survived between the thin threads of life and death. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that her husband was somehow acting differently than usual…?!

***

“Have you eaten?” (Husband)

“Yes.” (Molitia)

“This is the belly of a person who ate?” (Husband)

He frowned as he stroked her flat lower abdomen. He held her wrist carefully, as if it would break. His voice rose.

“Why is your wrist so thin? Are you even human?” (Husband)

“That’s…” (Molitia)

“Butler!” (Husband)

The butler rushed to his angry voice, fidgeting with his wrists.

“Get me food for my wife to eat. Something that will help her stay healthy. Anything is fine.” (Husband)

Molitia’s mouth opened at her husband’s words, but no sound came out. ‘I just had a meal?’

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”