Kiltering Mayhem - Chapter 18 - : An Old Forgotten Enemy.

After a vending machine accident, an otaku meets a deity resembling Morgan Freeman and is reincarnated as Eddard “Ned” Stark to save the Game of Thrones universe. To survive, he secures three wishes: usage of The Force (adapted to the Old Gods and Direwolves), intuitive civilization-building knowledge, and a 10x growth multiplier for training.

Immortal arts, magic weapons, magical powers*, and the boundless spiritual Qi between heaven and earth vanished into obscurity overnight, and all the exorcists became mere mortals.

300 years later, the Five Barbarians traversed the pass, a prelude to an era of great turmoil in China. They heralded the end of the world, where thousands of drought fiends stalked the night and the collapse of the Divine Land** was imminent.

Fortunately, within this long, dark night*** where silence had fallen on all magic, a lone star still glistened brightly on the horizon.

The Heart Lamp appeared, illuminating the vast expanse around it. A 16-year-old young man, who will end his life on his 20th birthday, embarked on a journey of reclaiming the spiritual Qi of the heavens and earth that had been sealed away — only four years remain.

The road ahead was filled with countless thistles and thorns, and it seemed improbable for him to succeed.

Chen Xing, “The important thing is that I’m the last exorcist in this world, yet the only magic I am capable of is emitting light. What can I do?”

Wait patiently then. When the Dinghai pearl reappears on earth, the uncertain trajectory of everyone’s fates will be completely disrupted before converging once more.

Chen Xing, “Could I be partnered with a more normal Protector martial god?”

Isn’t your Protector really skilled in fighting?

Chen Xing, “He is good at fighting, but when he loses it he’ll hit even me……”

There’s nothing that can be done about that, you can only blame yourself for losing yourself to lust.

—

*: Buddhist term: Abhijñā, a mysterious force that surpasses the limits of mortals gained through meditation

**: old name for China

***: figurative meaning: long period of misery and oppression

- 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.