Undefeatable – League of Legends - Chapter 464: Where Is The Seventh Copy Of The Contract?

He is the master of six kingdoms. As long as he wanted, his cavalry is ready to wipe off any country.

(Mature Content)

What price are you willing to pay for freedom?

The wolf-less and orphaned Tania was trapped in the life of a slave.

A part of her spirit was held captive by her master to exert control.

To gain freedom, she made a deal to spy on King Eltanin, the most ruthless and powerful Alpha of Araniea.

Stormy-eyed libertine, King Eltanin was dominanting, arrogant and commanding as hell.

Racing against time to save his wolf and kingdom from the demon king, Alpha Felis, he crosses paths with Tania. She is a spy, and temptation personified.

And now Eltanin must choose between the fate of his kingdom and his mate.

Will Tania choose her freedom and reject her mate?

Or will she give up the only thing she ever wanted?

Thesaurus definition of “Libertine”: debauched Synonyms for libertine: freethinking, profligate, dissolute, immoral, lascivious?

The Soaring Dragon Continent is a world of summons, you can only become strong if you become a summoner! Yue Yang, an average high school boy, was suddenly transported into this world. When he woke up, he was greeted with a lot of worried faces and found out that he had assumed another person’s identity. Turns out he’s the good-for-nothing third son of the Yue Family, who had just recently drowned himself because of a failed engagement. Unlike the third son of the Yue Family who was useless in summoning, Yue Yang succeeded in making a contract with a summoning grimoire on his first try, even when the other guy failed for the past fifteen years. Others would have a headache making contracts with beasts afterwards, but countless beasts tried to gain favour with Yue Yang instead, acting like a good kid before him.

“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.