My British Empire - Chapter 551: royal palace

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.

Viserys Targaryen was born with the blood of dragons and yet lived his life in exile. He was a prince with a lost kingdom and a fading legacy, an immature bastard who died a pitiful death. Unfortunately, that same death was coming for me now… as I found myself in his body right before molten gold fried my brain.Yes. Fuck Khal Drogo, and fuck the molten crown.With the memories from another life, in this world of betrayal and broken oaths, I had the chance to forge a new destiny for myself. Armed with the knowledge of the future, my own cunning, and [The Dragon System], I made the choice to flee from the Dothraki barbarians and take back what was rightfully mine.

And so Arascus, God of Pride, waited. He waited for his defeat as the forces of Heaven & Hell combined descended upon him. He waited as they tried to kill him. He waited as they locked him away. He waited for a thousand years in that dark prison.

It wasn’t even malicious criticism.I just gave feedback in the tone I was asked to.So why the hell did I, the writer who just wanted to help a junior, possess this body of the prospective groom… a villain, who died in the hands of the heroine on their wedding night?