Paintings of Terror - Chapter 1: Entering the Painting

Bash, the Orc Warrior, is a Hero.

During the war, he crushed and defeated all that stood in his path. He is respected by all Orcs as the Orc among Orcs.

However, Bash has a secret.

He has no experience with women – he, the Hero, was a virgin.

For Orcs, who hold combat and sexual prowess in high regard, being a virgin was tremendously shameful.

[The fact that I’m a not only a virgin, but a virgin Orc Hero, is a shame for all of Orcish society. I want a wife too!]

With this in mind, he decides to embark on a journey.

In order to protect the pride and honor of his race, but mostly to finally get his d*ck wet, he decides to go to leave on a grand quest to find himself a woman.

This is a bizarre and mysterious world filled with various sinister cultivation methods. Once a person begins to cultivate, they will either undergo mild changes in appearance and temperament, descend into madness, or become a great elixir for evil beings to consume...Duan Yun, having transmigrated into this world, unexpectedly comes across a supreme elixir cultivation manual, the 'True Explanation of the Jade Sword.'To his surprise, he is a one-in-a-million cultivation genius who, unwittingly, transforms the manual into something extraordinary. Guided by the Jade Sword, he is able to pierce through everything.Later, as his mastery over various methods grows, Duan Yun, carrying the philosophy of 'the enlightened benefit the world,' never keeps secrets and spreads martial arts across the land.Who would have thought...“Duan the Demon misled me! He said this technique enhances yin and yang, but now I can only squat to pee, boo hoo...”“It was the Demon who taught me this 'Seven Parts Returning Qi'. Instead of blessing me, it brought disaster—I either get killed or step in dung. The fortune-teller said I've lost seventy percent of my luck.”“Don't trust a word of what Demon Duan says! The fairy of the Myriad Wonders Palace was supposed to ascend the whole palace to the heavens, but in one night, she was possessed and turned into a demoness, all due to that old demon Duan's handiwork!”...Duan Yun finds this incomprehensible. All he did was practice martial arts, spread techniques, and occasionally emulate the laws of nature, so how did he become notorious as a demon?This is slander!The same techniques cause no issues for me, so the problem lies with you all, not me!

“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.

This story tells the life of two people, a noble only in name and an older wife from the army, married through a tentative agreement. In the bone-chilling cold, they spend their time hunting, gutting, and cooking by the fireplace. Their daily life passes peacefully. This is the warm love story recounting their daily lives.