Ancient Dragon Elephant Technique - Chapter 543 - 12 Blood Sacrifice

When the human princess, Lareina is sent as a bride for a peace treaty between the demons and humans, she ends up in a political marriage with the second prince of demons, Prince Azrael. Lareina falls for his gentleness that sets him apart from the rest of the demons in her eyes but on the night of their wedding, he is deployed to the war.Years after his abrupt departure, Azrael has finally emerged victorious and returned. However, much to Lareina's dismay, he has brought back a beautiful demoness with him. At the receiving end of his hatred, a heartbroken Lareina tries to save their marriage until all her hopes are shattered. Determined to carve a way for herself, she decides to end the marriage but she is met with a new challenge when her seemingly uncaring husband suddenly refuses to let her go.

After choking to death on a watermelon, Rong Jiahui thought that she would enter the netherworld and be reincarnated.

But when she opened her eyes, she discovered, to her very horror, that she had returned twelve years into the past…

Looking at the beautiful and awkward “little brother” that would be conferred the title of Marshal in the future for outstanding military service, she almost let out a snort of laughter.

She firmly decided to hug the thigh of this little brother, and climb to the top of her life!

The plan was beautiful, but it had just one problem.

Why had this little brother… suddenly turned into…

A little sister…

- Description from Novelupdates

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

[Disclaimer:This is not a story for the faint-hearted. It explores the darkest aspects of humanity—where morality is shattered, and power takes its place. Most readers won’t have the courage to face this unrelenting descent into shadows.I'm once again telling you if you can't handle deaths and violence and you seek happiness then please do not even touch this Novel.But maybe, just maybe, you’re different. Strong enough to confront the abyss and see what lies beyond.if so Prove it.][Synopsis]:In a world teetering on the edge of chaos, seven empires vie for dominance, each more ruthless than the last. At the heart of this dark tapestry lies Narzan, a nation feared and despised, where cruelty is law and ambition a deadly game. The lands of mortals are but a fragile sanctuary, bordered by forbidden realms—the infernal Demon Realm, where nightmares are born; the accursed Lost Soul Realm, where the damned wander endlessly; and the enigmatic Elven Kingdom, shrouded in secrets and ancient power. These realms whisper of horrors and treasures that could reshape the very fabric of existence.Above it all looms the Weave of Magic, an ancient force that binds life, death, and destiny. It stirs ominously, its threads tangling with shadows of betrayal, vengeance, and destruction. In this world where the strong devour the weak, hope is a fleeting illusion, and mercy is a tale for the foolish.Veythor is a man cursed by the fates, his existence a relentless cycle of suffering. Across three lives, he has endured betrayal, torment, and death. On Earth, he was a man broken by those he trusted—betrayed by family, ruined by love, and condemned to die in despair. In his second life, he met an even crueler fate, falling prey to monsters in human form. But Thalvoria, his third life, is the cruelest of all.A vast and merciless world, Thalvoria is ruled by beings of unimaginable power. Here, mages can sunder mountains with a thought, empires rise and fall in rivers of blood, and forgotten gods slumber beneath the earth. Mythical beasts stalk cursed forests, and the lands themselves seem to hunger for suffering. In Thalvoria, even the heavens cast shadows, and every choice is a gamble with damnation.Yet Veythor, battered and scarred, refuses to succumb. Haunted by memories of his past lives, he begins to weave his pain into something more dangerous. Every betrayal fuels his resolve, every scar sharpens his will. As the balance of power begins to shift and the Weave of Magic tightens its grip on the world, Veythor sets his sights on a singular goal: to seize control of his cursed destiny, no matter the cost.But in a land where salvation and damnation are two sides of the same coin, what will remain of a man who refuses to die?When the world itself hungers for blood, Veythor will rise—or he will drag all of Thalvoria into the abyss with him.