historical

Ye Qianning becomes a six-year-old little dumpling. Not only does she possess dual-system special abilities, she also has four fathers. “Daddy!” The little dumpling cries tearfully, leaving the four prominent, dashing figures of the imperial capital utterly flustered. The Scholar-Official Daddy: “Little girl, you can't just claim anyone as your father. Hurry up and go back where you came from.” The Foxy Daddy: “If I had a daughter, she would surely be the greatest beauty in the world. How could she be as chubby as a ball!” The Businessman Daddy: “The Gu family hasn't produced a daughter for three generations. How could she possibly be a child of my Gu family?” The General Daddy, however, is excited: “Hahaha, I was fated to have no children, and heaven suddenly gave me a little meat bun. Come on, daughter, let's go home with Daddy!” A little girl suddenly appears in the General's residence, causing several influential figures of the capital to lurk by the wall every day. Eventually, they just stop leaving, all declaring that they will only leave when their own daughter comes home with them. The General Daddy roars angrily: “Why didn't you acknowledge her back then? Now, if anyone dares to snatch my daughter from me, I'll fight them to the death.” Beside them, a prim and proper little boy mutters under his breath with his hands behind his back: “When she grows up, she is going to marry me and be my wife.” Hearing this, the four prominent fathers' eyes blaze with fire, looking extremely dangerous. The little dumpling watches the drama that unfolds daily and facepalms in resignation: “She just wants to cultivate her spatial dimension to live a long life... Matters of love and romance, stay away.”

As the eldest daughter of Marquis Xuanping Mansion, Xie Wanqing grew up under the care of her parents and elder brother. Since childhood, a marriage was arranged for her with the Princely Heir of the Wuyuan Marquis Mansion. The two were childhood sweethearts, a perfect match celebrated by everyone. Everyone praised her for her blessed life, born into fortune without ever having to endure a hint of hardship. She thought so too. Until she had a dream, in which her fiancé brought back a mistress. That mistress was of maidservant origin but possessed a stunningly beautiful appearance. He cherished that mistress like a treasure, even at the risk of going against his mother’s wishes. He wanted to break off the engagement and marry the mistress, and it was only due to his mother's threat of her own life that he was forced to marry her. They shared tenderness and affection, giving birth to a firstborn, while she was merely a decoration with no power or favor, placed in the backyard and subjected to humiliation. Later, she awoke from the dream…

Xie Lian, once revered as a god, experiences a series of falls from grace, ultimately becoming known as the "Misfortune God". He is eventually reunited with Hua Cheng, a powerful ghost king, and together they navigate the celestial realms and the world below.

Yun Wanqing transmigrated into a book and became the pitiful and short-lived cannon fodder sister of the vicious female supporting character in the story. Thinking about the tragic fate awaiting her family, Yun Wanqing cried out in her heart. "Mother, you kindly took in the cousin, yet she covets my father and wants to become his concubine. Soon, she will harm you to death~" "Father, you were set up by the female protagonist, and after your death, your head was displayed on the enemy’s city wall to be scorched by the sun, becoming Da Wu Country’s shame~" "Elder sister is the female protagonist, but her fortune is taken away, turning her into a vicious female supporting character. Later, she is abandoned by her fiancé and tortured to death by the female protagonist’s suitors~" "Elder brother, a virtuous and noble gentleman, is betrayed by friends, ending up blind, deaf, and fighting with dogs for food in the streets~" "Second brother, a demonic prodigy, loses his memory overnight, is picked up by the female protagonist, and becomes her lapdog, helping her kill Seventh Uncle and his beloved. Ultimately, his beloved dies in his arms, and he draws his sword to kill himself." "As for me, well, I was shot through the heart by ten thousand arrows along with Seventh Uncle!!!" Later, Yun Wanqing astonishingly discovers that the family’s character settings have collapsed. Mother dealt with the cousin in advance, father wasn’t killed, elder sister married the Emperor and became his only beloved in the harem. Elder brother was the first to betray his friend, second brother married his beloved, and even Seventh Uncle wasn’t a major antagonist, but instead became the most sought-after eligible bachelor among the noble women in the capital. As for her, she was cherished and pampered by the entire family. Yun Wanqing was baffled, how did the whole villainous family change their fate against the heavens? The plot has collapsed way too absurdly, hasn’t it? Did she transmigrate into a fake book?

From overworked corporate slave to… the fat niece of a future villain? At twenty-three, my life ended in the most ironic way possible, drowning in a lake while reading an online romance novel. When I woke up, I wasn’t just alive, I was inside that very novel. And worse, not as the princess or the healer or even the tragic maid. No. I woke up as Seraphine Agro, the silver-haired, chubby niece of the story’s main villain, Duke Tayler Agro, the man who would one day summon a famine, experiment on peasants, and get publicly executed. Awesome. Now I’m stuck in a half-collapsed mansion with stale soup, a broken “Duke” father who’s too kind for his own good, and an entire kingdom collapsing into plague and hunger. And to make things worse, the hero of the story—the dangerously handsome knight Sir Alex Canva, is on his way to inspect our lands. I know the plot. I know who dies. And I’m not planning to go quietly. Armed with sarcasm, stubbornness, and a questionable diet, I’m rewriting destiny, one disastrous choice at a time.

Transmigrated into a family of bandits who have just been granted amnesty and ennobled. Father, mighty and brave, loves causing trouble. Mother, beautiful as a flower, loves causing trouble. Brother, handsome and suave, loves causing trouble. ... You ask about her? She is relatively sensible; she just brought back a husband to suppress the household...

In the year 1469, the Aztec Empire in Central America was at its zenith. A soul from the future transgressed time to come here, intent on saving the fate of the Indian people from destruction and establishing an empire in Central America! The Age of Exploration had just begun its prologue, with European colonizers venturing into the unknown world. Europeans were on the rise, intent on conquering the rich lands of America and colonizing the vast New World. They were poised to embark on an expansion that would take them from America, to Africa, to India, to the Far East, and control the world for the next five hundred years! But now, an immortal spirit sought to change all of that. He would unite Central America under one rule, inherit the two-thousand-year legacy of American civilization, and resist the invasion of Western colonizers. He would spend centuries leading Aztec civilization onto the path of destiny to conquer America! Without the land and wealth of America, what would become of the Westerners? And in which direction would the world turn?

The crumbling Vienna System is unable to stop the rise of the Second Empire, as the Emperor's nephew is about to visit his faithful Paris. Protector of the Apennine, Honorary Chairman of the Rhine Federation, Close Ally of the Kingdom of Spain, French Empire Augustus Jerome Bonaparte: I will make France great again! -------------------- (Reasonable historical deduction party, Paradox Interactive game players rejoice!)

Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital's royal square, took in someone else's cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era's brilliance... "Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?" Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.

Destiny splits before me into two unrelated, straight lines: one leading to a palace and city ablaze, the Kingdom overthrown, the Earth bearing suffering, and Life enduring torment in this Fire. And the other leading to the pinnacle of Ancient Kings, where deities in the clouds personally crown me. I don the laurel wreath, basking in the cheers of the mountain. My gaze pierces through the mists of history, my Knights conquer lands for me, my Sword cleaves through obstacles, leading my people to victory. I take up this Scepter, holding the Authority of the World in my hands. I overlook the multitude, altering the course of history. I am Brand, King of Vorn, and this is my Legendary tale. ......................... Plain version synopsis: This is a story about a Senior Warrior with memories of rebirth, crossing back into the World he once fought for to alter the strands of history and make a mark in the sands of time.

**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 perilous bargain—a choice that irrevocably alters the course of their lives and unleashes consequences far more brutal than he had ever conceived.

Loki—abandoned at two years old when his father - a baron secretly coerced by the Demon Cult - was executed along side with his mother for treason after repeatedly failed attempts of assassination. Despite having his parents getting killed-he remains neutral, Loki isn't like others who only live for revenge. All he wished for is Peace and Freedom But the world will not let him have it. Every time Loki finally finds a quiet corner to disappear into... someone comes to drag him back into the fight. A human who only ever wanted to be left alone, in a world that refuses to forget him.

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.” Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?” The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?” Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!” “Oh!!!!” The audience erupted into thunderous applause. “Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately. The applause grew even more fervent... (The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

A Indian born arabic warrior becomes a part of a bloody turning point in history of India

Beneath a sky of iron and omen, when the sea roars and the heavens answer, a bloodline rises. Rome does not see it at first. It begins as all great things do—not with certainty, but with a whisper. A sign carried in stormlight. A mark etched not in flesh alone, but in fate. From the depths and the thunder, a child is named by forces older than the Republic, older than the gods Rome dares to name. The Eagle is born. It spreads its wings not in triumph, but in burden. For every victory carved into history, a truth is buried beneath it. For every triumph sung in the Senate, a silence festers among the ranks of men who bled to make it so. And as the Eagle rises—through war, through fire, through the shaping of empire—so too does the weight of what is unseen, unspoken, and unforgiven. Generations pass, yet the storm does not. Fathers become echoes. Sons become fractures. The blood remembers what Rome would rather forget. Prophecy does not guide—it demands. And when truth begins to slip its chains—when soldiers speak what should never be spoken, when the voices of the many drown the will of the few—the pillars of order tremble. The Senate, once the keeper of Rome’s story, finds its words turning to dust in its own mouth. For truth is a sharper blade than any forged in war. The Eagle, once a symbol of dominion, becomes something else entirely—an omen of reckoning. A question carried across generations: Is destiny a crown placed upon the worthy… or a chain that binds the unwilling? In the end, Rome will not fall to its enemies. It will face something far more dangerous— The truth of what it has become.

Eva's Pov— "Eyan…" my voice trembled, the words barely escaping my lips. "Are you… Kyel?" He smiled faintly, the warmth I once knew gone from his eyes. "Looks like you found out," he said, his tone light, almost mocking. "Finally. Now I don't have to play this tedious game anymore." My heart thudded painfully. "What are you saying?" He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. "That's right," he whispered, his voice low and sharp. "I am Kyel..." The word cut through me like a blade. My breath hitched. "No… no, you're lying. You're not my Kyel....you are not my husband." He leaned closer, his eyes cruel. "Then how do I know about the mole just below your right shoulder blade? The one only your husband would ever see?" I froze. He was telling the truth. My lips trembled. "Why… why did you lie to me, Eyan?" "Your Majesty," he snapped suddenly. I blinked. "W-what?" "You are not allowed to call me by name," he said coldly. "Call me what I am. Your Majesty." Tears burned my eyes. "Kyel… please, tell me why. If there's a reason—" "No," he interrupted. "There was no reason." My heart twisted painfully. "What?" "I lied because I wanted to," he said flatly. "I had no reason. And I owe you no explanation." I stared at him in disbelief. "But I'm your wife—" He laughed bitterly. "No. You're not my wife. You're just a woman I shared my bed with." My tears finally fell. "You said you loved me…" His voice turned to ice. "It was all a lie. I—Eyan Lucien Therald—never loved you. Not once." The world spun around me. He turned away, pulled open a drawer, and thrust a parchment toward me. "Sign this." My fingers shook as I took it. "What… is this?" "Divorce papers," he said coldly. "I've already signed. All that's left is your signature." "Divorce…" I whispered, my voice breaking. "Once you sign, we're done," he said. "You'll leave Velmoria and never return." Tears blurred my vision. "What about… our child that I'm carrying?" I stepped closer, my voice shaking. "Don't tell me you don't care about our child, too." He turned. "No. I don't." My heart stopped. "You… don't care?" "You were the one who wanted a child. I never did. But I gave you one. Isn't that enough?" I shook my head, sobbing. "Please, stop… please." "Now sign the papers," he said coldly. "Take the child with you and get out of Velmoria. Never show me that face again." "No. I won't." His voice thundered through the room. "Guards!" The door burst open. "Yes, Your Majesty?" "Take her out of this room," he ordered without looking at me. "Throw her out of the palace—and make sure she never steps foot inside again." I screamed, struggling against the guards' grip. "Eyan! Please—listen to me! Don't do this!" But he didn't turn around. Not once. As the doors slammed shut behind me, I looked at him one last time— and the love I always saw in his eyes… was no longer there. --------------------------------------------------------

Born a peasant in a world ruled by noble blood, Shaun Thunderhawk dreams of the impossible—becoming the World’s Strongest Magus. At Silver Heaven Academy, where status matters more than talent, Shaun and his childhood friend Natasha must survive ruthless rivals, hidden politics, and the cruel hierarchy of magic. But when a mysterious princess seeks Shaun’s help, his quiet academy life shatters. A missing royal, sealed gods, and the shadow of the Evil God Lucius pull him into a destiny that could reshape the world itself. To rise as a legend, Shaun must defy nobles, gods, and fate itself—or watch the world burn.

After her grandfather's death, Bai Hanyun was disowned by her parents and cast out of the Bai family. With nowhere else to go, she left the city and returned to the countryside. There, by a twist of fate, she discovered an antique mirror hidden in the basement of her newly purchased home. From that moment on, strange events began to unfold—until one day, she stumbled upon a prayer from a young general. Feng Xiyan, besieged by the Yuezhi Tribe and betrayed by the imperial court, had been driven into a desperate corner. With no access to water, food, or medicine, he and the citizens of Xiqiang City could do nothing but await death. But just as all hope seemed lost, Heaven intervened. From that moment on, the Feng Army and the people of Xiqiang City had enough food and water, living lives more prosperous than even the Emperor himself.

Conscripted at fifteen, Park Seongjin steps into a war already older than his fear. His father has fallen. His brother is missing. His name is carved into wood and sent toward the frontier. He is not a prodigy. He is not chosen. He is merely another boy placed inside iron and dust. War does not create heroes—it erodes them. Steel demands discipline. Loss demands endurance. Campaign after campaign, repetition after repetition, the body learns before the mind understands. On battlefields ruled by ironclad cavalry and endless formations, he survives—not through brilliance, but through restraint. Not through destiny, but through persistence. Yet in surviving, something begins to take shape. The sword ceases to be a weapon alone. It becomes a path. This is a slow-burning war and progression story about experience, discipline, and the forging of a swordsman—step by step, until the blade and the man are no longer separate. This is my first time sharing my work on a global platform. I truly look forward to your evaluation and feedback. I am particularly interested in how readers from different cultural backgrounds perceive the story. Thank you sincerely. Author Note: This story may soon be contracted with another platform, so it might be removed from webnobel.. If you're interested, please read it while it is still available. Thank you.

In a world where magic is everything and the world survive on it, two girls born without magic. Their life were neither normal nor simple but bound with burdens and regrets. They were orphan and one day change everything. Will they will survive in this world or they will make the world to bow them? It's a tale of mistry, sacrifice, love, bond, and an unseen things that how a single incident changes/impact our future, our will and our way to think and see the world. I don't want you to read this if you don't want or don't like, because we are the owner of ourselves and no one could force us for anything. Thanks for coming.