Heroes Shed No Tears - Chapter 5: Extraordinary Meetings, Extraordinary Adventures

“I lost everything again...?”Kain had to work hard to feed himself, in a small village on the edge of the forbidden lands. Unlike the others, he hated Keepers, the only people capable of fighting the creatures from the Astral Dimension. Everyone saw them as heroes, but Kain blamed them for the greatest tragedy of his life - the death of his parents.Ironically, the sacrifice of one Keeper allowed Kain to obtain a Rune Brand - the key to begin a trial, the outcome was either power or death.Facing another world, Kain discovered that his blood was cursed, and misfortune would always haunt him.But death would avoid Kain, wanting to keep such a valuable sacrifice for a god. Only failure would await him, but if it was possible death would pass by.Now, Kain must break his curse and take fate into his own hands for the first time in his life or remain a nameless offering.

After everything that Zaroth had was stolen from him, he decided to live solely for his desires, morals be damned!Close to his death, he resurrects and tames a mythical dragon, who turns out to be a breathtaking woman.Learning that in order to explore her body, he must grow stronger so he doesn’t die during the act, Zaroth sets a clear goal for himself: to get stronger.“But I’m curious about something.”“Hm? What is it?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow.“You said you judged me. How did you do that? Why was I worthy?”Luna’s smile darkened, her eyes glowing with a dangerous intensity.“Despite knowing you would die, you didn’t pray to the gods. On the contrary, you declared that you would kill every single one of them like the dogs they are. In my life, you’re the only one who’s ever made such a declaration, which is why I couldn’t leave you behind—someone who dares to share my dream.”

“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.

The war of gods left the earth no winners, but a broken world.