Legend of the Empyrean Blacksmith - Chapter 450

Join the tale of Seth Bane, an irregular on an unconventional journey to become the strongest. But unlike your typical protagonist, Seth's path is far from ordinary—in truth, he is actually a cameraman.Yeah, and an absurdly overpowered one at that.Swordsmen?Necromancers?Archers?All these pale in comparison to his unique occupation: the cameraman!Dive into a world where champions battle against otherworldly foes, and Seth Bane's unexpected power as a cameraman becomes humanity's hidden ace. With the fate of the world hanging in the balance, discover how Seth's unassuming role conceals his extraordinary strength.after all who said the hero was the strongest- well that was only possible as long as the camera man remains low-key.Beware!! this is a fast paced progressive novel.!!! Warning 18+ Mature Content- readers discretion adviceda..

Killed by a Sage Emperor and reborn as his 13 year old self, Nie Li was given a second chance at life. A second chance to change everything and save his loved ones and his beloved city. He shall once again battle with the Sage Emperor to avenge his death and those of his beloved . With the vast knowledge of hundred years of life he accumulated in his previous life, wielding the strongest demon spirits, he shall reach the pinnacle of Martial Arts.

Lin Mu Yu is one of the top players in Conquest the game before Destiny. He decides to delete his account due to a promise with his father.

Before he deletes his account, he sells all of his equipment and deletes all of his skills. After deleting his account, he suddenly gets his deletion overwritten by a mysterious source and ends up getting trapped in the game itself.

Without anything except for 3 of his skills, how will he survive?

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.