Comprehension Ability: Creating the Five Thunders Technique in Reality - Chapter 409 - 211: Progressing One Step Further

Raidorl Zain was born and raised as the second prince of the Kingdom of Zain.

Raidorl lived a peaciful life surrounded by his kind elder brother and loyal vassals, however his fate completely changed drastically during his coming-of-age ceremony when he was chosen to be the holder of “Dáinsleif “, the excalibur (sacred sword) of the royal house.

His brother the first prince started to hate him as an enemy that threatened his claim to the throne, his vassals and even his own fiancée abandoned him and he was banished to a town in develpment at the borders alone.

Since then, Raidorl has struggled to survive at the borders that were a monster’s domain, gaining the trust of those around him, he found a new happiness with his friends in that poor and harsh life.

However… his fate change once again when the neighboring Arsline Empire started to invade the Kingdom of Zain.

Forced by his brother to fight to protect the kingdom from the Empire’s invasion, Raidorl decides to plot a rebellion against the overly selfish demands of all those people that banished him.

When the exiled prince takes the sacred sword on his hand, the curtains of a new heroic legend will open!

The sacred sword legend that started with “Rebellion”, begins here!

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Vergil, a 21-year-old young man, leads an apparently simple life in a somewhat troubled world. His family is also simple—although his father is no longer alive, his mother has always been by his side, despite being a bit... aggressive. But that's not so unusual nowadays, right?Everything changes drastically when Vergil, after an unexpected death, awakens as a demon. To his surprise, he discovers that he has accidentally married beautiful Pure-Blood demonesses.Now, he will discover how the world really works from a Demon's perspective.

In 2180, the last survivor of the human race returns to Earth.

In 2025, a 3rd generation Chaebol regains consciousness after being rendered a vegetable in a car accident.

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“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.