Legend - Chapter 480

Neris Truide was born with the legendary purple jewel eyes of the ancient warrior Elandria. Despite this, her peers at the noble academy bully her mercilessly, destroying her self-esteem. Adopted by the wealthy and powerful duke Elandria because of her jewel eyes, Neris eventually marries Crown Prince Abelus―only to be pushed aside for his mistress Megara, who led the bullying at school. Neris's life ends at age thirty when she is poisoned by her adoptive sister Valentin. However, instead of dying, she wakes up back at age twelve with her memories of her previous life intact. Enrolled at the academy once more, she sets about exacting revenge on those who ostracized, assaulted, and ultimately murdered her. But she didn't expect that in this life, she'd cross paths with Cledwyn Maindulante, the cunning future ruler of the north. As a determined Neris sets out to make her enemies suffer―and prevent her murder―will Cledwyn turn out to be a dangerous foe, or her closest ally ever?************************************************Noticed*- The translation isn't accurate and the language used is considered informal or “messy”.- It's recommended to add this to your reading list to stay updated.- Readers are encouraged to support the original creators by purchasing the official version when it's available.- There are links provided to support the translator financially.- Readers are asked to enjoy the fan translation quietly and avoid causing any trouble or seeking attention.That's all, happy reading everyone!

The person whom the world revolves around.

Kieran was just an ordinary part-timer — a high school dropout who had also given up on boxing. With no parents and no real family, he survived by working his ass off every day. He was raised by a man he believed to be his father, but later discovered he wasn't — though the man passed away before the truth could fully sink in. What Kieran didn’t know was that he was actually the sole heir to a powerful business empire, the hidden son of a wealthy tycoon.

“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.