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Ruinous Love

**WARNING** This story contains scenes of extreme physical violence and psychological breakdown. Reader discretion is advised. The groom walked heavily across the veranda floor. The pungent, sharp scent of wine mingled with the cold night air. Dazed and unsteady, he flung open the carved double doors with the reckless haste of a drunkard and stumbled inside. Hàn Yuè (汉月) sat on the edge of the bed, silent and with her head bowed. Her thin, white nightdress was visible in the dark room, lit only by the candle. Her eyes were full of sadness; she knew this union was no marriage, but a blood pact between two powerful clans. The groom cast a heavy, bleary-eyed gaze over her. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Hàn Yuè looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. A cruel sneer played on the man’s lips as he rasped: "I still find it hard to believe that… the unattainable daughter of the Lán (嵐) clan has fallen into my hands like this. Well... such was your fate; you had better get used to it. From now on, we are husband and wife, and we have got a long, exciting night ahead of us!" Without a word, Hàn Yuè rose. With a sorrowful expression, her trembling hands reached for the ties of her robe; the soft silk slipped from her shoulders and pooled onto the floor. The groom, his eyes glinting with arrogance, reached to untie his sash when, suddenly… The quiet room was suddenly broken by the loud sound of wood breaking. The broad blade of a sword pierced through the wooden door with unrestrained violence, passing straight through the groom's spine. The bloodied tip of the blade protruded from his abdomen, stopping directly in front of Hàn Yuè’s terrified eyes. Pinned to the door, the groom’s eyes bulged from their sockets as his body convulsed. A stifled, rattling sound emanated from his throat. Hàn Yuè covered her mouth with trembling hands and staggered back in horror. A moment later, the shadow behind the door pulled the sword out with a swift, ruthless motion. A fountain of blood sprayed from the groom’s mouth, splattering the floorboards. The man’s knees gave way, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground. While drops of dark blood had splashed onto Hàn Yuè's skirt, she let out a loud, and piercing scream. **ABSTRACT** Prince Hēiláng (黑狼), desperately enamoured with the noblewoman Hàn Yuè, finds his path to union thwarted by formidable political constraints. In his quest to claim her, he strikes a dangerous bargain—a choice that irrevocably alters the course of their lives and unleashes consequences far more brutal than he had ever conceived.
Pouria_Zarrinpar · 28k Views

ULTIMATE AGES:10 Ages Of Million Fantasies

Name is the Soul of a living. When the 7th Star died, fate, hope, and balance collapsed affecting the genesis of the world.The world tried to recreate itself inorder to fit in the cosmic order but ended up in adversity. Slowly, essence was fading out and it lead to potential possibilities imprinting itself in the world. These possibilities eventually became intense to the extent that even the Heavens had to be indulged in matters. It was around this tale did many strive for change for a perfect world. But was also battled by a careful dance of destiny. Defeated or Not it's uncertain. Since immemorial, ever since The Great Fall Of The Badu Dynasty, no other dynasty ever survived for more than a ceuntry. All the great proving dynasties were reduced to ashes by the Golden Fate which befell the world. 10 Great Ages of 10 Great dynasties, and yet the imbalance the world has sunk into still grows deeper. To even make Heaven roar. Ages of promising geniuses; Ages of ruined geniuses; in a world clouded by mislead and lies; when would the ruined clearly see the sky?? The question remains unanswered. From despairing to forging a path of his own, a youth hovered in a humid dark sky amidst the thick clouds that had a strong smell of blood. He adorned in a bloody canvas as he aimlessly pointed his magical sky-shattering sword horizontally to a ruined scarlet castle deeply hidden behind the density of the bloody clouds. Encircling this youth were 5 brown gems gleaming weakly. Because his entire being was heavily soaked in blood, his pupils could not be seen but if one looked closely, it could be noticed that his eyes glowed like a moon.
GDCG · 1.3k Views

The folk tales

In the heart of Punjab, where golden fields stretch endlessly beneath vast open skies, and the rhythm of life flows with the beats of ancient songs, love has always found a way to bloom, quietly, fiercely, and eternally. “Folk Tales: Echoes of Eternal Love” is not just a collection of stories, but a journey into a world where emotions run deep, where hearts dare to love beyond limits, and where every tale carries within it the echo of something timeless. These stories are born from the soil of Punjab, rich with culture, tradition, and memory. Passed down through generations, they have lived not in books, but in voices. In the soft lullabies sung by grandmothers, in the soulful tunes of folk singers, and in the quiet pauses of those who remember love not as something fleeting, but as something that stays, long after everything else has faded. At the center of this collection lie tales of love that defy all boundaries. Love that rises above societal norms, challenges family expectations, and stands strong even in the face of fate’s cruelty. These are not modern love stories shaped by convenience or comfort. They are raw, intense, and often tragic, where every emotion is felt deeply, and every choice carries a consequence. You will meet lovers who find each other in stolen glances and silent moments, where words are unnecessary because their hearts already understand. You will walk along riverbanks where promises are made under the open sky, and through narrow village paths where every step brings both hope and fear. You will witness the beauty of first love, the innocence, the excitement, the quiet belief that nothing in the world could ever come between two souls meant to be together. But alongside this beauty comes the inevitable shadow of separation. These stories do not shy away from pain. They embrace it. They tell of families who stand as barriers, of distances that grow with time, and of destinies that refuse to bend. They speak of longing that lingers like an unhealed wound, of waiting that stretches into eternity, and of love that continues even when everything else has been lost. And yet, despite the heartbreak, there is something profoundly powerful about these tales. Because in every ending, no matter how tragic,love does not disappear. It transforms. It lingers in memories, in songs, in places that once held meaning. It becomes a part of the land itself, carried forward by those who remember. “Folk Tales: Echoes of Eternal Love” brings together some of the most cherished and haunting love stories rooted in Punjabi folklore. Stories that have stood the test of time, not because they had happy endings, but because they were real in their emotions. Because they reflected a truth that remains unchanged, that love, in its purest form, is not measured by how long it lasts, but by how deeply it is felt. This collection invites you to step into a world where love is fearless. Where it dares to exist even when the world is against it. Where two souls can remain connected, even when separated by distance, circumstance, or fate itself. Each story carries its own rhythm, its own pain, its own beauty. Some will leave you with a quiet smile, while others may bring tears you did not expect. But all of them will leave behind something, a feeling, a thought, an echo that refuses to fade. Because these are not just stories of the past. They are reflections of emotions that still exist today. In every heart that has ever loved deeply. In every soul that has ever longed for something it could not have. In every memory that refuses to be forgotten. As you turn these pages, you are not just reading, you are listening. Listening to voices that have traveled through time, carrying with them tales of devotion, sacrifice, and unbreakable bonds. You are stepping into moments that were once lived, into emotions that were once real, into love that once burned brighter than anything else. This book is an invitation.
Air_78 · 1.8k Views

ASÉ:The First Compact

They built empires on divine fire. Now something is burning them from within. West Africa. An age of cavalry and prophecy, of bronze thrones and blade-women, of gods who have not yet gone quiet. Five kingdoms sit at the peak of their powe, and at the edge of their unraveling. In Oyo, the greatest cavalry empire the continent has ever seen is eating itself alive. The Alaafin sits his sacred throne, unable to leave the palace by holy law, while the council that was meant to keep him honest plots his dynasty's slow death. His supreme warlord, the undefeated Olasubomi, has won twelve battles and never lost. The code demands that if he ever does — he must die by his own hand. He has begun to wonder whether losing might be the only way to save what he loves. In Dahomey, a young woman called Sosi moves through foreign courts like a ghost. She is the Gbeto-Ashe, a shadow operative of the world's most feared all-female army, and her gift is this: once you see her face, you forget it. She has been sent to find the man who leaked Dahomey's battle plans to Oyo. She will find him. The problem is that when she does, she will not want him dead. In Benin, the Iyoba Adaeze watches her son the king begin to die of an illness that has no natural explanation. She has thirty years of court experience, a regiment sworn to her command, and an ivory mask at her hip that belonged to a queen-ancestor whose will still lives inside it. She knows who she must choose to replace her dying son. She also knows the choice will crack the kingdom — and she will make it anyway. In Hausaland, a scholar-spy named Musa is counting granaries and mapping fortifications inside cities that don't know they're already conquered. The Jihad is coming. It is righteous, and it is real, and it is also the most efficient machine of political conquest the north has ever produced. He believes in it completely. He is beginning to see what it becomes. And on the frontier of Oyo's northern border, a seventeen-year-old with no name worth speaking discovers that when he gets angry — really angry — the sky changes. No one around him will tell him why. That fact is starting to make him very angry. Meanwhile, an old Babalawo who should not exist walks into the sacred city of Oyo-Ile carrying a walking staff and a single, dangerous request. He has read all 256 volumes of fate in the Ifa corpus, a thing that should have dissolved his individual will into the great witness-state beyond the living. Instead, he is here. Eating plantain. Asking to see the archive beneath the city. Agba Ife has seventeen theories about why he survived the dissolution. They are all partially correct. He is also missing something: a 257th Odu, a verse of fate that was never supposed to exist, has been quietly shaping the future of every kingdom for three generations. And it has just been found, by a griot's daughter who copied it from a burning temple before anyone could stop her, in a city that is about to become a battlefield. The Ase; the divine breath woven into iron, word, blood, and earth, is not a weapon. It is not a tool. It does not obey. It considers. And right now, for reasons no living priest can fully explain, it is considering all eight of them at once. Five empires. Eight lives. One false prophecy that has been true all along. The coalition war is coming. The Jihad is rising. The succession crisis has no clean answer. And somewhere beneath Oyo-Ile, in an archive of forbidden fate, a verse is waiting to be read by the one person who cannot survive reading it. The First Compact begins. But whose compact is it, really, and what did it cost to write?
Firenze_Creator · 10.6k Views

The Greatest Midfielder!

"Lin Yuan, you're fired! Your playing style was too dirty; you're a disgrace to Chinese football!" A ban forced 18-year-old Lin Yuan to leave for Portugal, carrying a bad reputation. Everyone thought this rough guy who only knew how to fight with his body would eventually give up. Until that season, a true beast emerged from Boavista's checkerboard stadium. Some call him the "midfield meat grinder" because wherever he is, it becomes the opponent's nightmare. Some call him the "ankle terminator," and even Messi and Neymar have to be careful to avoid him. Some even call him a "tyrant" because as long as he's on the field, he controls the rhythm of the game! ... Three years later, the Champions League final. Lin Yuan switched to a top club, donned a new uniform, led his team to the top of Europe, and lifted the "Big Ears Cup". He also won the Ballon d'Or that year, becoming the new king of football. Facing the swarm of Chinese football associations seeking reconciliation, Lin Yuan gave a cold smile to the camera: "Sorry, I'm just a dirty hooligan who plays football, I'm not worthy of your noble football." ------ • Atleast Read First 10 Chapters Before Deciding. • Not My Work I'm just Translating and Making it readable. If Orignal Owner wants It removed Contact me. • Also You don’t need to know the original work to follow this journey. The narrative is built so that anyone can dive in and fully grasp what’s happening. • If I get 100 Members on Pitroen I'll update 5 Extra Chapters. ( You can Become Free or Paid member. It Still Counts.)
AnonymousWriter66 · 195.6k Views