Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World! - Chapter 162: Pyramid Of Dominion! (15)

Jian Wushuang was reborn in adversity. In order to get his revenge, he began to cultivate Heavenly Creation Skill. With the help of the Heaven defying cultivation method, Jian Wushuang gradually grew into a peerless genius from an ordinary practitioner. With a sword in hand, no one is his match. Using his extraordinary Sword Principle, he killed all his opponents and eventually became number one Sword Master from time immemorial.

Empires rise and fall on the Yulan Continent. Saints, immortal beings of unimaginable power, battle using spells and swords, leaving swathes of destruction in their wake. Magical beasts rule the mountains, where the brave – or the foolish – go to test their strength. Even the mighty can fall, feasted on by those stronger. The strong live like royalty; the weak strive to survive another day.

This is the world which Linley is born into. Raised in the small town of Wushan, Linley is a scion of the Baruch clan, the clan of the once-legendary Dragonblood Warriors. Their fame once shook the world, but the clan is now so decrepit that even the heirlooms of the clan have been sold off. Tasked with reclaiming the lost glory of his clan, Linley will go through countless trials and tribulations, making powerful friends but also deadly enemies.

Come witness a new legend in the making. The legend of Linley Baruch!

“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.

“Chantelle Bently, you’re a murderer! Why are you still alive? You should have been the one to die!”Daniel shoved her away furiously, his face as dark and empty as the black suit he wore.Chantelle was caught off guard and lost her balance, falling hard onto her pregnant belly.The pain was unbearable, and she cried out as her body trembled.Chantelle shook her head desperately. “I told you, it wasn’t me! It was Kate!”In a trembling voice, she pleaded, “Daniel, how many times do I have to say this before you believe me? I didn’t betray your family or the Wilson Group Of Companies, and I didn’t cause your grandfather’s death.”Anger and resentment appeared in Daniel’s eyes as he threw the divorce settlement in Chantelle’s face. “Sign this now! From this day forward, I’ll make you pay a thousand times for everything you’ve done!”The sight of the document struck Chantelle like a dagger to her heart.Her whole body froze as if she had been cast into the icy wastelands of Hell.****Her twin sister framed her, and her perfect family was destroyed on Christmas Eve.Things got worse when her husband handed her a divorce agreement. A month later, rumors spread that she had died in prison from depression.Six years later, she returned with a new face to take her revenge. She was beautiful but dangerous.Daniel felt both devastated and irritated when he saw the mysterious woman. She had the same name as his dead ex-wife, whom he hated most and the one he believed was responsible for his grandfather’s death.Despite his anger, he couldn’t deny the strong attraction he felt toward her.In fact, he was fatally obsessed and addicted to her, and the anger that had controlled him for six years slowly started to crumble.