The Hero Took Everything from Me, So I Partied with the Hero's Mother! - Chapter 97: Jimna Village?

A thousand years ago, the world shattered.Mana surged into existence, rewriting reality itself. Dungeons tore through the land, birthing monstrous horrors, while beasts mutated under the influence of Primordial Ki, evolving into unstoppable apex predators. Humanity was on the brink of annihilation—until the Awakened emerged, wielding supernatural power to defy extinction.Yet, in this brutal new world, strength reigns supreme, and weakness is a death sentence.Amidst it all, Azvoid Larkson—a nameless figure among the countless struggling to survive—awakens a power beyond reason. A power tied to ancient, forgotten dragons—beasts feared even by the strongest Awakened.With each battle, he ascends. With every dragon he tames, his legend grows.In a world where only the strong thrive, how far can one man rise?

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—“Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you.”Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, “the Just”, the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Lady Bertia, who’s become my fiancée, is a bit odd. On our first meeting, she proclaimed herself a villainess noble girl who’s been reincarnated and said that she’s working hard every day to become a splendid flower of evil that’s elegantly put in her place.

I don’t get it.

But she entertains me because I don’t understand.

That’s why I think I’ll observe her for a while.

This is a story of a crown prince who’s so talented and handsome that he’s grown bored of his easy-mode life. A story of this prince observing a self-proclaimed villainess noble girl (who seems perfect at first but is a bit off) who’s become his fiancée as she snatches flags and breaks them into pieces.