Turns Out, I'm In A Villain Clan! - Chapter 67: Rumors, Trials, and Transformation

Akashi was a boy so beautiful it seemed the gods had sculpted him with a touch of mischief and a dash of fragility. He wasn’t handsome in the rugged, masculine way of knights or warriors. No—his beauty was softer, captivating in its innocence. His frame was small, almost delicate, and his pale skin looked as if it had never known hardship, kissed only by the gentle sunlight of his village fields.With wide, striking black eyes that shimmered like obsidian under moonlight, and hair the color of a calm, endless ocean, Akashi possessed a charm that defied age, status, or reason. He didn’t know it, but his very existence pulled at the hearts of those who saw him—like an untouched gem waiting to be claimed.And yet, he had been untouched for a reason. Akashi had never known life beyond the boundaries of his village. He grew up surrounded by warm smiles and familiar voices. Every elder knew his name. Every child wanted to play by his side. His days were simple, his heart untouched by cruelty.But peace is a fragile thing.One night, it shattered.The sky turned crimson. Screams tore through the quiet air. Fires devoured homes. Demons—twisted beasts of shadow and rage—descended without warning. They killed with a hunger that could not be reasoned with.By morning, the village was gone.Ashes, corpses, and silence were all that remained.And Akashi… Akashi was alone.The last heartbeat in a graveyard of memories.He wandered for days, hollow and dazed, until rough hands seized him. Chains replaced freedom. Smiles were replaced by cold appraisals. And so, the boy once adored by all became something else—something to be sold.A slave.At the capital's grand auction house, he was stripped, washed, and displayed like merchandise. His beauty caused a stir. Whispers spread like wildfire.“Look at those eyes...”“That hair... Is it dyed? No, it’s real...”“So delicate... Is he even human?”To them, he was no longer a boy with a heart, but a prize to possess. A fantasy in fragile form.He stood on the stage, trembling slightly, barely able to process what was happening. The voices of the crowd blurred together—hungry, leering, filled with desire and greed. The auctioneer’s booming voice called out the bids as if Akashi were nothing more than a fine vase or a rare jewel.The numbers climbed quickly. Too quickly. Akashi’s knees weakened beneath the weight of invisible eyes drinking him in. He stared at the marble floor, trying not to cry.Then, suddenly, the room fell silent.A voice—deep, commanding, and heartbreakingly beautiful—cut through the air like silk over steel.“Fifteen thousand gold.”Time seemed to pause.Every head turned.At the back of the room, standing beneath the golden chandelier, was a woman unlike any other.She wore a flowing red gown that hugged her form like it was crafted by the gods themselves. Her long, golden hair shimmered like strands of sunlight, cascading over her shoulders with effortless grace. Her eyes, cold and blue as a glacier’s heart, stared ahead with quiet power.Even the nobles drew back. This was no ordinary bidder.It was one of the Princesses of the Three Great Kingdoms.Whispers erupted anew—but no one dared challenge her offer.Who would?She stood like royalty incarnate, a goddess who walked among mortals, and she had just claimed Akashi as her own.The boy raised his head slowly, unsure of whether to feel fear or relief. His eyes met hers—just for a second—and something in his chest shifted. She didn’t smile. She didn’t leer. Her gaze was unreadable.But it was powerful. Absolute.And it made his knees weak for an entirely new reason.He didn’t know her name. Not yet.But she had bought him.And somewhere deep inside, something told him—his life was never going to be the same.

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear.

[Matured Content]Isadora Skaldwood was born a fae of impure blood “mannfae” deemed an inferior creation of the olden gods. However, at birth she was kissed by the goddess of light and blessed with the ability of a skin weaver, capable of healing any wound or affliction.Betrayed by her family, she's sold for gain and shipped across the world to a brothel, into the hands of a selfish businessman who exploited her abilities for years. Travelers come to this brothel not to lay with the rumored mannfae but to seek her abilities—the star price of the famous brothel in the countryside.But then everything changed when “He” appeared…Kraven Val Thrond “The Reaper” of the Raven Court, a terrifying warrior feared by those who dared to speak his name. Dangerously handsome with looks identical to a god, silver eyes like the crescent moon—but a mind dipped in madness.Isadora despised him, not just for stealing her away, but for thrusting her into his world of blood and chaos—taking her freedom just like everyone else does. He’s insane! But that’s only the cherry on top, his obsession is wicked.(Excerpt)“You want to kill me and at the same time, you do not” Isadora’s features were stern and the cold look in her eyes almost forced a laugh out of him.She got more frustrated by his silence, choosing to insult him and be done with it. “Does a madman not know what to do with a mannfae?”“I can think of a thousand ways to kill you,” Kraven replied in a velvety voice. “Like first throwing you off-board”Isadora's angry expression morphed into one of horror.“But that would be terrifying, wouldn’t it? Drowning in the dark sea, unable to breathe” he voiced as if he could vividly picture it—and him on board watching. “Tell me, Isadora”A cold chill crawled down her spine.“If I let you go, where would you run to, hm? I told you already this realm isn't kind to outcasts like us”“I'm not like you!”He chuckled lightly. “We're alike. What use could you be to this forsaken realm?”“What use could you have of me?” she asked shakily.“Oh love, I can think of many things but I’m not sure you’re ready… yet”

A Professional Transmigrator meets a newbie Regressor.

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He lived an average, fulfilling life and died of old age. The next moment, he opened his eyes as the Princess of Asmaria.

While looking forward to his new life, he died again.

And so began his 151,897,914th life as Samur Eckart.

Samur is a Professional Transmigrator- or so he says so, as he gets transmigrated into a new world every time he dies.

However, each time, his memories return only moments before his death. If he successfully survives, he gets to live that life, if he dies, well, he just moves on to his next moment of death.

Once again on the verge of death as Samur, he’s saved at the last moment by a young boy.

Surprise, surprise, the young boy is a Regressor.

As a man of honour, Samur intends to repay his debt then leave because the world is too inconvenient to live in.

Well, that’s what he thought, at least, but the Regressor and his friends are kind of… weird, and he can’t seem to get away at all?

However, not everything is as it seems. Samur’s whims have made him the part of an eternal lie.

Shadows dance in glee as they concoct a requiem far grander than anyone can imagine, while the Lights tremble in delight as the apocalypse threatens the Universe.

The dies have been cast, the play has been written, the characters are on the stage, and the sacrifices have been made.

And so, it’s finally time to let this game begin.