MTL - Cold Palace’s Abandoned Consort - Chapter 2279 When you cry!

“When the old gods are forgotten, they do not die—they wait.”In the year 1025, the Viking Age wanes.Iceland bows to Christ. The Althing governs by law. And the gods of old fade to whispers.But in the far Westfjords, something stirs.Vetrulfr, a former Varangian captain and exile, returns from the East with foreign gold, forgotten warcraft, and a hunger no man can name.He comes not in peace, but to raise Ullrsfjörðr from ash and ice; building walls, carving runes, and waging war on behalf of a dying faith.From Reykjavík to Aachen, rumors spread: a ghost walks the North once more. Some call him the son of Ullr. Others, a wolf-cloaked demon.But all will know his name.and when the Valkyries call, he will answer.

Usually, I just move on even if I dislike something in a novel. But when the villain twins killed Daisy, my favorite character, I couldn’t help but express my dissatisfaction. … And then, I transmigrated.

“Bo, Mr. Bo, if I tell you that I am not a man, but a woman, what will you do?”

“What do you think?”

“… If you have something to say, please put down the belt, please?”

—

Ye Xian transmigrated into an entertainment novel and became a member of the popular boy band. She disguised herself as a man, pestered the captain and the male lead, and finally died tragically due to revenge.

Ye Xian, “?”

As the most favored youngest daughter of the Ye Group, she is so beautiful and indistinguishable between male and female, why would she want to live and die for a stinky man?

So, netizens saw Ye Xian suddenly transformed into a handsome man who split the sky, attracting thousands of girlfriend fans to follow him wildly.

Teammates saw that Ye Xian began to focus on his career, fans broke through tens of millions in minutes, and the trophy was soft.

The original male protagonist saw that Ye Xian ignored him, but circled around his brother…

“Mr. Bo, this is the tea I asked someone to bring from Suzhou. Would you like to try it?”

“Mr. Bo, this is the sweet and sour fish I made myself. Would you like to try it?”

Bo Tingshen is the hero’s elder brother, the top boss who supports the protagonist in the original novel, and has countless resources under him. Ye Xian naturally wants to curry favor with him, so that he can step on the giant’s shoulders, but why does the boss look at her more and more? The more strange it is…

Bo Ting looked deeply at the ‘young man’ who was busy to and fro around him, with dark eyes and secretiveness, and pulled her into his arms.

Ye Xian stuttered in fright, “Bo, Mr. Bo, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to taste the food, I want to taste you.”

“But I’m a man!”

“I just like men.”

“Hey, I lied to you, I’m actually a woman!”

“I lied to you too.”

“…” Ye Xian wanted to cry, but why did he finally get rid of the male lead and provoke the male lead and his brother?

“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.