Almighty Sword Domain - Chapter 1130 – Are You Surprised?

Ronan Phoenix was the second prince of the fire country of Avalon , whose only crime was simply exisiting.

Born with unprecedented natural talents and superiror elemental affinity he was hailed as a once in a millenium genius , untill one fateful day everything took a turn for the worse.

In a world where those born with the forbidden element were considered the most heinous criminals , Ronan became the enemy of the entire humankind once his real elemental affinity was revealed.

An ancient prophecy foretold the rise of a supreme who would wield the forbidden element and unite the entire human race ruling as the one true emperor , however the road to the top was perilous and full of dangers .

Follow Ronan in his adventures as he uses his talents to overturn the order of the world as he rises from the cursed to the revered , from an ant to the Dragon Emperor!

For the large sum of money to help her husband, she chose to be a surrogate mother covertly. Her sweetheart was out of trouble, but she became the woman of loose morals in his eyes. Misunderstanding, disappointment and sadness forced her to divorce the man she loved from the childhood.

When she was determined to start new life, another man burst into her life. “You are my baby’s mommy and you are my wife!” A big surprise hit her that her baby’s Daddy, the man she surrogated for, fell in love with her at his first sight.

His deep love convinced her to believe the affection of love again. Unexpectedly, her ex-husband returned to beg her recombination. One was her childhood sweetheart, and the other was the man who loved her and gave her hope for a new life……Facing the two men, what is her choice?
 

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.