Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale - Chapter 492 - CIX: Stepping Into Tentacle Hell

Dante was an ageless warlock who had been going from one battle to another for hundreds of years.Following a chaotic encounter with an evil god, Dante unintentionally activates a contract with a demon, thrusting him into the modern world.Resolved to live a peaceful life, his intentions are halted when he finds himself in the middle of a conflict among rival mafia factions—dabbling with the ominous demonic magic that he knows best.

This was a world where technology and cultivation co-existed.

Lu Ping had been single his whole life. He didn’t have any cultivation resources and all girls hated him.

All he could do was dating a girl he had met online.

However, at his graduation, Lu Ping accidentally exposed his personal information to his girlfriend.

From that moment onwards, his life started to change strangely.

When the two had finally agreed to meet, the Nine Heaven Golden Phoenix suddenly appeared and covered the sun with its wings. Everyone thought that the world was about to end.

Lu Ping drew his sword, ready to defend his home.

“Honey! Stop! It’s me!” Feng Xiaoqi, the phoenix, pleaded.

Lu Ping looked at the phoenix in awe as he dropped his sword.

“We have Xu Xian in the past, and we have Lu Ping in the present! Long live humans!”

“I thought Xu Xian was already unbeatable, who knew Lu Ping was even stronger than him!”

“Lu Ping! You shouldn’t play with a girl’s feelings!”

“He’s right! You have to show her the fine tradition of us humans!”

“What do you need for your wedding gift? We humans can give you anything you wish for!”

Lu Ping looked at his fellow human, completely dumbfounded by the situation.

[Dazzling Beauty × Aloof Tycoon] [His Deliberate Plan]That night, abandoned by the man she had loved for ten years, she was deeply saddened and sought solace in alcohol, but accidentally drank the drugged liquor. Then, he appeared. With a lazy posture and a relaxed tone, he asked, “How about being with me?” He was a big shot feared by all and stood atop the pyramid of society. She knew he was a handful, yet she was still somewhat captivated by him. Thus, she agreed, “Fine.”From then on, it became widely known that he had taken a woman under his wing, doting on her excessively and granting her every wish. Some were jealous and said, “How long can he spoil her? They're just acting and will break up soon.” In fact, she thought the same, so she never dared to fall in love and awaited the day when she would be cast aside. Later, when rumors of a new companion in his life reached her ears, she prepared to leave, but he refused, saying, “You are the only one I have loved all along.”Little did she know, he had loved her for ten years...

“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.