System's POV - Chapter 944: We Shouldn’t Choose The Easy Way Out

A happy and fulfilled life, everyone wanted that. Rio was no exception, he too wanted to feel joy and fulfillment.

But how many actually achieved that?

He didn't know, but he knew that he was not part of those.

Rio, a part time editor of a webnovel called, The Last Stand, transmigrated inside the world of the novel. Not as a main character, nor as a villain, not even a student.

But as a professor.

A simple extra, professor that was never even mentioned in the story. Through some circumstances, he was the mentor of the main cast of characters.

Armed with knowledge of the future, treasures of the world, and skills of different origins. He would raise these students to their utmost as early as possible. He felt that there would be no problem.

However, as time marches forward he realizes everything was not as simple as he thought.

The plot, or the future, as he knew it was going further down the rails. The body he occupied had a mysterious identity. A higher existence watches over him.

Realizing the implications, he gave up on staying low key and unknown. He will strive, live, and survive admist this world of cruelty.

A world set in a modern futuristic setting where cults roam free, capitalism corruption rises, demons and other races exist.

However, even if he survived and lived, will he even feel happinness and fulfillment? He didn't know, but he will live still.

A swordsman hailed as the strongest has reached his end, and was reborn as an elven girl.

This is the story of the swordsman only knowing how to kill in his past life aiming to be the best healer as a girl.

In the final battle against a monstrous entity with his teammates, the strongest swordsman, the Hero’s mentor and the only one in their party incapable of magic yet the most skilled with the sword, sacrificed his life to end the battle once and for all. Reincarnated as an elf girl, the strongest swordsman decided to live a different life from his blood-stained past and pursue the magic that he has never used before.

As a girl, she apprenticed under the old potion maker and healer of the village to be like someone she had admired in her previous life while keeping her condition sharp with sword training as she had done in her past life.

After learning the ways of a healer and convincing the elf village that she is capable enough of leaving for the outside world, she hitched a ride with a party of adventurers passing by the village and went out to see how the world has changed.

“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.

“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.