Extra Pages: The Author's Odyssey - Chapter 75: A Night Filled With Blood [5]

When I opened my eyes I had become a princess!

But out of all characters in this romance novel, why is it the princess who has the fate of dying to her own blood-related dad, the emperor!

If I want to live, I must not be seen by that emperor dad.

“When did this kind of scumbag start living in my castle?”

The man who doesn’t have single drop of blood nor tear to drop, that cold emperor Claude! Will Atanasia who had been caught by the emperor be able to survive?

“I… What do I do…..?”

Modesty! Honesty! Compassion! Bravery! Justice! Sacrifice! Honor! Faith!He is a lich, yet he upholds the knightly spirit!He is a lich, yet he remains steadfast in his faith of light!“With a formidable enemy at hand, fearless and unobstructed! Daring and loyal, worthy of the Holy Spirit! Loyal and upright, willing to die unyielding! Protecting the weak, never going against heaven's principles!”Standing at the top of the world, no matter how great the storm, nothing can stop him from following the steps of the Holy Spirit! Not even the Holy Spirit!...This is a romantic legendary story of a chatty cat and a lich who dedicates his body and soul to the light!Yes, “romantic,” not deceiving you! That's just how it is!

Ace bodyguard Ziyu encountered the worst time travel in history——

In the beginning, the father was unjustly killed, the mother was angered to death, the family property was taken over by the nobles of the Hou family, and a two-year-old brother was left behind to be fed.

?Fortunately, her own space is still there, but unfortunately only ten acres of dry fish ponds, two multi-functional agricultural machines, two villas, and an 800-square-meter steel basement are left.

No matter how powerful your palace is, I will move all your property into the space.

Cloth, embroidery, furs, ready-made clothes, shoes, all collected;

Medicinal materials, grains, cakes, chickens, ducks and fish are all collected;

Groceries, porcelain, jade, curios, calligraphy and paintings, all collected.

Like locusts passing by, leaving nothing behind.

Empty tens of millions of taels of gold and silver from the enemy’s treasury, and by the way expose his true face of rebellion, and then escape.

When natural disasters strike, including floods, snowstorms, and wolf smoke, Ziyu is able to dominate and ensure safety…

- 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.