A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor - Chapter 1143 The Games of the Mighty - Part 4

After hatching endless plots and suffering innumerable hardships, the demons of the Demonic Realm finally managed to resurrect the Ancient Demon King.

The demons of the Demonic Realm had hoped that the Ancient Demon King would not only lead them in waging a war against the Heavenly Realm and enable them to lord their superiority over the Immortals, he would also ultimately gain control over the entire realm.

Gradually, however, they discovered that their thoughts were very, very wrong.

Whilst it is true that this Ancient Demon King still retains his aura of superiority and possesses unlimited powers, he…

He seems to be a mental case…

It’s alright even if he changes orders and does things in an incomprehensible way.

But what’s with his habit of muttering under his breath, nagging and conversing with himself the entire day!

Small Orchid: He’s not ill, he’s just despicable (贱jian)…can’t stand to see (见jian) people live a good life.

Dong Fang: I am only unable to endure seeing you live a good life.

Small Orchid: …

*T/N: The Chinese pronunciation for the word “despicable” is the same as the word “see” – thus, the author is trying to show that Small Orchid, while trying to scold Dong Fang, is also careful not to incur his wrath, which is why she tried to imbue another meaning into her sentence after scolding him.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Dimensional Magic Cube's Instructions][1. The Dimensional Magic Cube can automatically absorb the energy that exists in the dimension. Once a month, it can randomly open a dimensional channel and perform dimensional travel.][2. The Dimensional Magic Cube has the ability to convert various powers from different dimensions, ready to be activated and used at any time.][3. There is a storage space inside the Dimensional Magic Cube, which can be opened and used at any time.][4. ...]This is the story of a man who once couldn't choose his own future but vowed to live for himself in this new life.Carrying the Dimensional Magic Cube, Riezel arrived in the world of swords and magic and wandered through different worlds, hoping to find a new beginning.===In a nutshell, a story about a man from Earth who got transmigrated into a fantasy world (original world that act as the main world) and has the ability to travel to various anime worlds to become stronger.Visited Worlds:1. Danmachi (Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?)2. Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba)3. ...

“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.

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]