The Steward Demonic Emperor - Chapter 1295: Mortal Domain’s Collapse

In a world shadowed by death, the silent realms await, home to the undead and the Grim Reaper's sanctuary. As long as death's presence endures, the great Undead Queen will return.

He died. Not by fate, not by accident, but as collateral in a hunt between beings beyond mortal comprehension.And yet… death was only the beginning.Chosen by a mysterious entity known only as Echo, a sarcastic soul from Earth is offered a chance at a second life. Gifted with ten draws from a divine treasury, he obtains powerful treasures, a rare bloodline, and a mysterious system known as the Limitless System.But what begins as a straightforward reincarnation takes a twisted turn when two dragon inheritances—Thunder and Fire—collide within him.Reborn not as a man, nor as a beast, but as an unknown species—a fusion of human and two True Dragon Inheritences—he awakens in a scorched battlefield beside a dragon egg, unaware that his birth was witnessed by fate itself.After surviving the near-fatal clash of legacies within him, he emerges anew… no longer Zaroth, but Primus Xal’Zaryon Drakonis, a name that shakes the very fabric of mana around him.With his soul, body, and bloodline perfectly harmonized between human and dragon, Primus sets out into an unfamiliar world ruled by ancient clans, dangerous beasts, and kingdoms teetering on the edge of Eternal War.But power always draws attention—and with the secrets of his origin, the Limitless System at his side, and a destiny marked by a Primordial-level Mark of Fate, enemies will rise from shadows unknown.

This is the story of a young boy who steps into the world of immortals.If you love Fantasy and cultivation novels, then you can give it a shot.It will be slow paced in start, but I will try my best to not make it too slow, that it might become unbearable to read.The main character (MC) will be a lone individual, avoiding excessive social interactions, including friendships.This is my first novel, so please forgive any errors. I will do my best to make it as error-free as possible.Do remind me in the comments for any errors.

“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.