Fields of Gold (Web Novel) - Chapter 730: The Heir's Might

In the new era of Blue Star Martial Arts, Demons invaded, and humankind was embroiled in a bitter struggles.Chu Feng transmigrated and arrived on the scene. Armed with the ways of being an overachiever, all he wanted was to once again show the spirit of a die-hard corporate slave and carve out his own piece of the world!No sooner had he been reborn than he was smeared with demons all over his face, but no worries, his golden finger had arrived!He could draw upon the Life Force of slain Demons to transform into Attribute Points, becoming stronger with limitless additions!“What to do when there are no more Attribute Points available?”“Hey, look over there, a lone Demon…”“Sneak up from behind, grab its head, just twist like this! Hey, Attribute Points secured!”…“In this world, having great strength means having everything!”“In my life, with such heaven-defying Martial Arts Talent, do you think I can become a Martial God?”“The path to the Martial God has ended; it's become nothing but old legends? Ha, the path I walk will be the new path of the Martial God!”…This book is also known as “Demons, I Need You to Help Me Cultivate!” “So Easy to Learn, I Think This Move is Really Simple” “Run Fast, the people at the front are haunted” “This Man is More Demonic Than the Demons Themselves!”

Peace is a lie told by kings sitting on a pile of corpse..........In a dying world ravaged by dungeons, beasts, and alien gods, only one truth remains:Power decides everything.Some Heroes are kind.Some are just.Most... are monsters wearing crowns of light.Ezekiel Zahara was supposed to die forgotten, a bastard stain in a noble bloodline.They tried to kill him.They failed.He awakened a mysterious system that enabled him to fuse lifeforms with machines into something neither man nor gods could comprehend.With circuits running through his Spirit Veins and mechanical beasts by his side, Ezekiel will carve his legend into the bones of the world.

Eluard Kai found himself transmigrated to a magical world.

A steward came over and declared that he was now the academy master of the school in front of him before disappearing to nothingness.

“That damn steward said I am now the owner of this place then left me all alone! What the hell am I supposed to teach them anyway?!”

He feared that some prodigious arrogant young master would come over and enroll when he himself didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“But this is a deserted academy, right? No one should come over here, right?”

Unfortunately, his nightmare came about.

“Academy Master, I am here to enroll in the Heavenly Magic Academy. Please allow my request in behalf of my lackluster talent.”

Eluard Kai almost blacked out until he heard a prompt in his head.

[ A student requests to enter the Heavenly Magic Academy. ]

[ Accept the request? ]

“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.