A Wizard's Secret - Chapter 19 - Spell Manual

A river song, triggered a legend of the rivers and lakes.
Tian Zun’s life motto: “My sword is the truth.”
Shen Lang’s life motto: “To serve people with morality, those who are dissatisfied are dead.”

- Description from uukanshu (translated)

[New Hit Book] The king mysteriously withdraws, and just when everyone breathes a sigh of relief, they are unaware that an unprecedented storm is about to unfold!

When 18-year-old Chu Miao dies in a tragic car accident, her soul vanishes; but her body does not remain empty for long. A formidable warrior from an ancient era, the daughter of a renowned general, awakens in her place. Sent into the future by a prophecy, she finds herself in a world on the brink of destruction.With only a month before typhoons ravage the land, extreme weather shifts without warning, and terrifying mutations transform animals and plants into deadly threats. Worst of all, a horrifying virus spreads like wildfire, turning humans into flesh-eating zombies. Civilization crumbles and only the strongest survive.Though her new body lacks the powerful cultivation she once had, she still possesses an invaluable advantage; her ancient spatial ring. Filled with elixirs, weapons, demonic beast cores, and rare cultivation resources, it becomes her greatest tool for survival. But modern supplies are also essential, and she must act fast to stockpile resources before the apocalypse fully takes hold.As chaos reigns, she fights to protect her family and secure a foothold in this brutal new world. Along the way, she crosses paths with a mysterious and powerful man, one of the rare few who awaken supernatural abilities and is just as determined to survive. Together, they forge an unbreakable bond, battling both the relentless undead and the desperate survivors willing to kill for a chance to live.Armed with ancient wisdom and modern strategy, she refuses to bow to fate.In this new life, she will rise again—not as a lost soul from the past, but as a warrior destined to rule the apocalypse.

“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.