Mary Jones
Stories
11
Chapters
2,498
Words
2.2 M
Comments
0
Reading
7 d, 15 h
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The throne room of Emperor Jevian Lloude Dust was considered a great show of humility. A simple construction of plain wood. A small and humble room, perhaps as large as the house of an affluent mortal family. This was the pattern with the emperor’s image. He had no clan—no lineage. He took no wives or concubines and had no children or relatives. Praise be unto Emperor Lloude Dust, for he lived only to serve the greater good, the survival and well-being of the Yixine Empire. But the reality of it,…-
71 •
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Oh woe be me, dire stupidity strikes again. Read the author's…
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71 •
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Realistically speaking, it couldn’t have been more than fifteen hours since Neave had started fighting the demon. However, it felt like an eternity. Especially in contrast to the utter boredom he had experienced for heavens knew how long. He had looped well over several hundred times by now. Fighting the demon barehanded seemed to be nearly impossible. The main problem was that Neave was just a child. Trying to fist-fight an adult-sized demon, not to mention an adult-sized demon with supernatural…
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71 •
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Neave felt no despair. No, he just felt… Jaded. Tired. And disappointed. He had tried countless methods to kill the next two demons. He even managed to prepare an elaborate trap for the first demon. He threw several rocks, one after another, at its head until it finally stumbled far enough to drop into the ravine. Then he wanted to cut the rope to kill the two demons that appeared afterward. They refused to step onto the bridge simultaneously, no matter how he tried. Perhaps it would be possible to…
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71 •
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There was a way to tell how much time had passed when one fell asleep. Not down to an hour, but it was possible to feel it. The mind might just be extrapolating how much time passed based on how high the sun was or the individual’s sleeping habits. When Neave opened his eyes, he felt like an eternity had passed since he died. It wasn’t like falling asleep. It didn’t resemble passing out. There was an element of oblivion that severed his existence. Now he had arrived at a place he could only describe…
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71 •
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Neave woke up and felt… Good, if a little sore. He felt like he’d had a lovely night's rest. His mind was still hazy from last night, and he had absolutely no idea where he was. As he opened his eyes, he met… The ground. Dirt. Pale and well-trodden with a few stones here and there. His sight was blurry, and he looked around. He didn’t see anything except for a seemingly endless stretch of dirt. His vision was too blurred to see what lay beyond the sea of soil. As his eyes slowly regained…
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71 •
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The council members of the Zearthorn sect had gathered for the daily meeting. Dozens of haughty cultivators sat in a round room and eyed the imposing figure of the sect master. He was short, but he projected the force of a giant. His long crimson hair draped over his broad shoulders like a bloody waterfall. His eyes were a blue so vivid it gave the impression of rippling tides. The only thing he wore, except his dimension rings and the bundle of keys, was the official Zearthorn sect robe. The same…
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71 •
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Nothing to see here, Junior! Get out of my sight and go to the author's…
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71 •
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The room swiftly quieted down, and as the last of the monster outpouring was extinguished, the golems began exchanging information on the fight's outcome. Through touch, flashes of light signaled their growth and lit up the cave ever so slightly, revealing the tired, defeated expressions on everyone’s faces. Harel got up to her feet and started walking away. There was a void hanging in the air. It was precisely this sort of moment where Dukean would ask where she was going. But he was gone. Yet,…
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