The Devil's Warrior Queen - Chapter 295: The Ethereal Lake

# PRETENDTOBEAFOOL

In the empire, both men and women would awaken Beast Essence once they reach the age of eighteen. Beast Essence was hidden in human bones, and the bone is called Beast Bone.

The more important the position of the Beast Bone was in a human body, the better the Beast Essence, and stronger Beasts would hatch from the beast eggs in the future! Kong Rui was going to be eighteen soon. She wanted to awaken, and then escape from this colosseum.

She wanted to escape this deceitful place where she was only entertainment for others, and had to fear her fate in order to survive. However, she was caught.

She was tied up and her sister dug out her entire backbone, because Kong Rui had awakened a Phoenix that had not been seen in a thousand years! She was stripped of all hope and thrown into a ravine filled with demonic energy like a dead dog.

Everyone thought she wouldn’t survive, but they didn’t expect her to have two elements in her body. She found a master under the cliff and even became a pampered princess of the demons there. The demons: “We’ll cut off the head of whoever touches Little Rui!”

Walking out of the abyss, she used her power to defeat the heroes, and no one dared to say the word “genius” in front of her! The Beasts that no one could conquer were as good as babies in her hands!

Countless peerless bosses came out just to accept her as their disciple! The bigshot that everyone feared even hugged her waist and whispered, “Do you want the entire empire? Why don’t I give it to you?”

Yao Mo Xin, the empress of Da Chu died in a cruel way a day after she gave birth at the hands of her husband the emperor, Ye Hong Yi, and her legitimate second sister, Yao Shu Ran. Ye Hong Yi got the throne because of the smartness of Yao Mo Xin, but he hated her because she made him feel like a useless person who needed a woman to become the emperor.

“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.