MTL - I Have A Cultivation World - Chapter 308 broken vein beads

“Do you love...me?” My eyes stung as I asked my so-called husband.“No,” he said quietly. “I don't love you. I don't need to love you. I just need to take care of you as I promised your father before he died.”My world crumbled down on me.His words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, the world spinning around me. “S-So that's it? This whole time, you've been with me out of some sense of duty?”Elijah looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “Your father asked me to look after you, to make sure you were happy and safe. That's what I've been trying to do.”“Fine then. Let's get a divorce!” I announced, loud and clear.___Ash always believed he could make his cold and vicious hubby fall in love with him.However, after three years of marriage, Ash received only betrayal from Elijah. Elijah never loved him and was only with Ash because he promised Ash's father that he would take care of him after his death. Ash, heartbroken and sorrowful, decided to quit his marriage.However, when he handed Elijah the divorce papers, he ripped them pieces and pushed Ash against the wall.“You have lost your mind if you think I will ever divorce you.” Elijah glared, but Ash was unaffected by his rage. However, once Ash had left him for good, Elijah realised how deeply he loved him, and not just because of his responsibility to Ash. So he resolved to go after Ash and bring him back.Amidst this, he came to know that Ash was the one who caused the accident four years ago in which Elijah lost both of his parents. He had investigated this case for years but now that he found out it was Ash, he was devastated.“Come back before I lose my mind and do something you will regret.”But can an emotionless and frigid man who has never learned to express affection or feelings approach the love of his life while he conflicted between taking his revenge and loving Ash?

The previous lords have committed as many atrocities as possible to fill their bellies. I, the only daughter of that house, had discovered that my servant and lover was a spy.

And as the people wanted, my life ended with my execution.

However, with the memory of getting beheaded intact, I began a new life. I was planning to shoulder the sins of my past life and become a nun, but by some trick of fate, I came to work as a maid for the current lord.

Under my former lover, whose name, age and even hair colour were all lies.

An editor at the prime of her life—and with maybe just a little too much free time—finds herself waking up in one of her favorite RPGs with no clue as to what's going on or how to get back home.This might be the part where others rejoice over getting whisked away to a world of wizards and magic, but she certainly doesn't think it's anything to celebrate about.After all, she woke up in the body of a small-time villain with some severe personality issues.

“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.