MTL - The Last King of Darkness - Chapter 453 spirit master

Lingyun, a fierce and savage cultivation genius takes over a dead teenager’s body. Coincidentally, they are both named Lingyun. Set in a alternate version of the 21st century, teenager Lingyun has been killed by someone with a grudge.

The next day.“I’ve stressed this time and again—I’m responsible for making the ethos of the cultivation world off-kilter! History is written by the victors, and I’ve triumphed!” Sword Immortal Lu Yang expressed his ire during a press interview.—Brought to you by The Cultivation Times.(Translated by Rakumon)It is the first day of the twelfth month of the year—a suitable day for the launch of this novel (I hope… :3) I am Rakumon, the translator of Who Let Him Cultivate?! This novel is known for its refreshing humor and imaginative ideas in the Chinese community. If you like a witty protagonist, interesting side characters, a mystery plot in the background, and plenty of comedy, do read on and be a part of Lu Yang’s journey! I have previously worked on Consort of a Thousand Faces and Transmigration: Of Mysteries And Songs on Volare. It will be my first time translating a novel from this genre, and it definitely doesn’t help that this novel is heavy with jokes, puns, wordplay, memes, poems, cultural references—you name it. Nonetheless, I will try my best to bring them across to all of you, and please also feel free to share your comments!

“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.

Loose cultivator Shi Lang gradually found himself in the realm of invincibility. However, when he finally tried to ascend to the higher realm, the spirit of the world was nearly exhausted.

So, between his ascension to a new world or the well-being of his home, he chose the latter and sacrificed his life to save the world.

Nobody knew what he gave up for the world, and he told no one.

Although his sacrifice had gone unsung, there was still someone who witnessed everything. A treasured artifact he carried on his body preserved his soul and let it escape a tragic end.

Eons passed.

The human race stepped out from the age of cultivation into an age of stellar conquest.

The spirit energy in the world was now scarce, but humans found other means to excel.

In this highly-advanced time, Shi Lang's soul has found a chance to be reborn.

What happens when an ancient cultivator that neared the level of a deity before his first death gets a second chance at life in the space age?