Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son - Chapter 753 World Crushing Gauntlets

Rude is a tank, known as the strongest in history. However, the Hero decided that his skills were worthless because he couldn’t do anything but take damage, and threw him out of the party. His cleric friend who trusted him followed him to the remote village that Rude was forced to return to.

I am Supreme

“Kind? What’s kind about it? Taking on such quests isn’t being kind. It’s just being a pushover. A total pushover.”As the voices faded behind him, Kai glanced back at them.Me? A pushover? No way.[You have performed a good deed for an NPC in trouble.] [+1 Benevolence.]A reward given for doing a good deed?!Calculative, yet compelling enough to continue doing good deeds whether it’s healing or dealing damage.The Healing Solaris Cleric, Kai’s, journey to conquering MID Online!

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?