Weapon seller in the world of magic - Chapter 482 Sylvandria escaped the mind control? What does it mean?

The 13th disciple of the Great Mount Hua Sect. One of the Greatest Third-Generation Swordsmen. The Plum Blossom Sword Master, Chungmyung.

After slicing the head of the peerless Heavenly Demon, who threw the world into chaos, he slept an eternal sleep on the peak of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. Jumping over a hundred years, he comes back in the body of a child.

But… what? Mount Hua declined? What the hell are you talking about!?

It’s only natural to want to live if you’re going broke.

“Decline? Even though I’m here? Who would dare!”

Plum blossoms eventually fall.

But when the cold winter passes and spring comes, plum blossoms shall bloom again.

“But I’m gonna die first before Mount Hua gets revived! If you’re gonna go bust, might as well do it right, you bastards!”

The beginning of the Plum Blossom Sword Master, Chungmyung’s solitary struggle to save the thoroughly declining Mount Hua Sect.

“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.

Living for the sole aim of escaping!

‘Light of Rusbella’ was a depressing romance novel.

Wishing for a new life, Asili Rosé was reborn as the daughter of the 8th wife of the Estrian Emperor.

She thought she was born with a golden spoon, but it was actually just a gilded spoon?

Once she realized that nothing but ruin awaited, she found a diary foreshadowing the future…

It foretold Asili’s death by the hands of the Crown Prince, Castor!

…Let’s try to survive first.

__

“What can I do for my elder brother?”

“Well.”

__

Pale sky blue hair fluttered finely in the wind. He smiled weakly, before parting his dry lips.

“Call my name.”

“…”

My head quickly snapped up.

“Call me… Amoru.”

His fingertips skimmed along my inner wrist.

The king of assassins was reborn, mastering both alchemy and poison. Sitting inside the space, there was a ghost that loved crying.

Buying a sickly boy for a hundred gold coins, becoming the master of half a country for no reason.

On their wedding night. She slightly hooked her jade finger, “Come here.”

The man tried weakly bargaining, “Can I redeem myself?”

“No!”

“Can we wait for the bridal chamber tomorrow?”

She cast a cold gaze, “Give me a reason.”

“I…..My period is here.”

Her head was covered in black lines, “Do you think you would even believe that!”

After four hours——

She weakly said, “I can’t go on anymore, wait until tomorrow.”

The man revealed an evil charming smile and turned her over before pressing down, “Want to run? Too late!”

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