The Great General: Wan Heian - Chapter 4: THE PEAK

The world calls for heroes, and in dire situations, they tend to rely on anything just to escape death and live.The story begins when a man from another world becomes one of the three heroes of fate. His strength prospers among the other two, fate favors him, but the people do not.After saving the entire continent from the Demon God, they feared his strength and banished him from any human land with no where to go he thought of nothing but to suffer.But there are still beings who cared enough to give his life a new light.[ You are never Forgotten ]

Not for the Alliance, nor for the Horde!

For the justice in our hearts, to seek an explanation for all the innocents, and to fight for those civilians who are ignored by the nobles, Vanessa VanCleef has set a small goal. I want to push Stormwind City first!

Ps: There is an old book with 5 million words, and the quality is guaranteed. Please rest assured to collect it.

Ps: Group numbers 639, 265, 715

- Description from novelbuddy

Reincarnated as the emperor of the dynasty, Zhou Xuanji, he thought he would be rich and noble for a lifetime, but he was forced to flee the palace due to the grievances of the palace.

What surprised him was that a cheat program invented in his previous life turned out to be a reality!

At the age of two, he obtained the Red Dragon Sword, which contains the soul of the Red Dragon!

At the age of three, he obtained the second Divine Sword!

Every year you grow, there is an extra sword!

A hundred years later, Zhou Xuanji took hundreds of divine swords across the world!

Ten thousand years later, Zhou Xuanji stunned the heavens, Wan Jian volleyed into the sky, and ascended the throne of myth in the name of Sword Emperor!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.