MTL - On Her Lips - Chapter 142

Emperor Ian Veroshion, the first noble mage, was betrayed and executed. Cursed to never be reborn, he awakens a century later as the illegitimate son of a disgraced ducal line, destined to be a hostage in a barbaric land. Stripped of his magic and his throne, he must navigate a world vastly different from the one he ruled, facing political machinations and a resurgent monster threat. But the embers of his past life still burn, and Ian will not surrender his legacy. He will reclaim his name, his magic, and perhaps, even his empire.

Five years have passed since the Elves invaded Earth.

The poor and criminals of the Republic of Ascaria are forced to join the ranks of the soldiers on the front lines while the rich and high-ranking government officials hide behind walls.

Erend Drake is a young man who must go out and fight so his family can live in a squalid shelter within the walls.

One night in the battle Erend had to die because he was killed by the Elves.

But suddenly he wakes up the next day with a mysterious power.

[Congratulations, you have been chosen to be the holder of Systema.]

[Please choose the available skills]

[ Dragon Armor ]

[ Dragon Claw ]

[ Dragon Eyes ]

[ Dragon Wings ]

[ Fire Breathing ]

Erend did not expect that he would become a Dragonborn. The strongest race feared by the Elves and the humans.

When a mountain comes to life, awakening its consciousness, it takes on another form—a Mountain Spirit. And that’s me reborn with extraordinary Divine powers.Want to know what these divine powers are?Well, one of them allows me to accelerate herb growth—up to one hundred times faster! Impressive, right?But wait, there’s more! I also possess a ‘golden finger’—which is ‘Space-Time’ system that lets me fish for lost techniques, weapons, pill formulas, and other treasures from the rivers of time and space.With these at my disposal, I’m sure to become stronger, at least stronger than the beautiful sect master who claims my mountain as her personal retreat and constantly drag me into her matters.It’s not an easy life, but no need to worry! I’m not just any spirit—I’m a human spirit born from a mountain, which means I have an extraordinary talent for cultivation.To top it off, my system was generous enough to grant me a divine cultivation technique right from the start. There’s just one tiny problem: it’s a dual cultivation technique, and I need a partner to cultivate it.So, I had no choice but to convince the sect master’s stunning disciple to help me out. I mean, it’s not like I’m after her gorgeous long legs, her curvaceous thighs, or her… well, you get the point.I’m just a humble cultivator trying to grow stronger by any means necessary.If only she’d run into some trouble, so I could swoop in and save the day. That would make things a lot easier for me… but alas, life is never that simple.Still, I’ll find a way. With my Space-Time system, my mountain’s power, and a little charm, I’ll outgrow this mountain and surpass everyone—even the sect master. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll enjoy the beauties along the way.

“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.