The Eternal Way - Chapter 134: Ninth Rank

A fluffy, sweet modern GL story about a mature older women and a cute university student.

(Alternative title: I Can Cut Through Anything)...After dying from overwork, Riven is reincarnated into a war-torn world where holy power and arcane magic clash for dominance. Born into poverty and orphaned at twelve, he survives with his younger sister by scavenging weapons from the corpses of fallen soldiers.That is, until he finds a gravely wounded woman in front of his house.Moved by a strange sense of compassion, Riven saves her life—unaware that she is the infamous Mad Queen, a ruthless monarch who slaughtered her entire royal bloodline.In return for his kindness, she teaches him how to wield a sword—an art that awakens a terrifying power within him: the ability to cut through anything.But power comes at a cost. Her gaze shifts from gratitude to obsession. And now, bound by a twisted marriage to a queen whose love is as dangerous as her blade, Riven must decide: will he run from her... or embrace the madness she offers?---Author's NoteHi everyone, I’m a new author here.To be honest, I got tired of the same old harem tropes—stories where the male lead collects girls like trophies without any real emotional depth. So I decided to write something different.This is a dark fantasy romance centered around one woman only: a yandere queen whose love is as dangerous as her power.Yes, the story contains R-rated scenes—expect some heat.But it’s not just about that.This novel will dive into:Deep character development,The twisted yet intimate relationship between Riven and the Queen,A complex world filled with arcane powers and divine magic,Royal politics and war,And Riven’s journey to become the strongest swordsman in the world.As a beginner, I genuinely welcome any feedback, comments, or even low ratings. Whether you give me five stars or just one, it’ll help me improve—and I truly appreciate it.Thank you for reading.I hope you enjoy the madness.

“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.