MTL - The Legend of the Witch Girl - Chapter 9 Novice Witchcraft

Okay, so let me get this straight. I wake up and BAM, I'm inside the body of Valerian Thorne—a third-rate villain. I mean, come on? Out of all the characters I might have been reincarnated as, it had to be him? This man was literally a stepping stone for the actual hero. So why him? Why not someone with a little more. potential?Now that I have a system that can unleash Valerian's hidden potential, who knows? Perhaps this third-rate villain will get a second chance, alter his destiny, and prove the world what he is truly capable of. And if I happen to get to keep the gorgeous fiancée in the process. well, I'm not complaining.

College was like a wake-up call for most people. Especially the likes of Christopher Owen, who spent the rest of his high school years messing around and pining for the boy he never had.Having had a frustrating high school year, he decided to dedicate himself to his studies in college.He flew many miles away from home, changed his looks, and hid his real identity from everyone. His plans were simple: study hard, pass well, no dating.But then he realized two things: life was anything but easy without the backing of his last name.And... he wasn't sure how long he could last before he jumped his roommate, who was obviously not gay.But lust wasn't love, right?Maybe he could indulge a little? Just a little, I promise.

This is a world shrouded in darkness, and the pervasive black mist erodes all living beings.

Only fire can dispel the darkness and protect mankind.

But the firewood will eventually run out, the fire will eventually go out, and humanity will eventually perish.

until Rhodes came.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.