vikings ancient times

At the graduation ceremony's class change, when the 3S-rank pillar of light—symbolizing the strongest talent—engulfs me, the entire venue falls silent. My awakened profession is actually "Dragontamer," a class that vanished a century ago along with the dragon race! Amid the mocking laughter, I touch the dim dragon crystal in the principal's arms. In an instant, the crystal shatters, ancient dragon roars echo through the heavens, and legendary skills never before recorded materialize in the void. The next day, I enter the forbidden zone and use my blood as a catalyst to awaken dragon spirits that have slumbered for millennia. Nine massive dragons burst through the sky, their wingspans blocking out the sun. In a globally broadcast ultimate showdown, I softly chant in dragon tongue, and the enemy's million-strong army retreats like a tide. It turns out that what dragontamers tame isn't just dragons—it's the wildest power in this world, the immortal war spirit of the dragon race!

Once cherished as the beloved daughter of the prestigious Chandler family, Claire's life was shattered when she was abducted by a jealous woman named Quintus, who replaced her with her own daughter, Shelly.Raised by Clarence, the master of the Clearheart Temple, Claire grew into a prodigy in the mystical arts.Years later, she was brought back into the Chandler family. Threatened by Claire's return, Shelly conspired with her mother to sabotage her, ultimately leading to Claire's brutal death.But fate had other plans. Reborn through ancient rituals, Claire returned with a burning desire for vengeance.Joining forces with Shawn Jackson, a formidable tycoon with hidden depths,she set out to dismantle the dark sorcery that had controlled her fate. With the support of the Clearheart Temple, Claire revealed the twisted secrets of Shelly and her mother,freeing her biological parents from their evil manipulation.With the darkness behind them, Claire and Shawn embraced the life they were always destined to share.

At the graduation ceremony's class change, when the 3S-rank pillar of light—symbolizing the strongest talent—engulfs me, the entire venue falls silent. My awakened profession is actually "Dragontamer," a class that vanished a century ago along with the dragon race! Amid the mocking laughter, I touch the dim dragon crystal in the principal's arms. In an instant, the crystal shatters, ancient dragon roars echo through the heavens, and legendary skills never before recorded materialize in the void. The next day, I enter the forbidden zone and use my blood as a catalyst to awaken dragon spirits that have slumbered for millennia. Nine massive dragons burst through the sky, their wingspans blocking out the sun. In a globally broadcast ultimate showdown, I softly chant in dragon tongue, and the enemy's million-strong army retreats like a tide. It turns out that what dragontamers tame isn't just dragons—it's the wildest power in this world, the immortal war spirit of the dragon race!

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.