Reincarnated As A Plant Life - Chapter 172 The Hero Awakens (1)

The Ancient Era has come to an end. Gods, demons and ancient beasts strong enough to rule anything with power and roam free in the universe... All vanished mysteriously.

No one really knows how it has ended and what actually have happened. Some records state that it was the constant war between gods and demons that caused their demise, or even the conflicts they had against members of their own race that ended that golden age.

Greed, pride and selfish motives could have been the catalysts for that ending.

Who can precisely tell what happened? It has been 2 million years since the last record of those times and in this gap of time, other races made their appearances.

Still, those considered God's and Deities of those old times, didn't let their names be erased from history. There are a lot of legacies they've left behind for the new races. Some are already claimed as people make them their sect treasure or family heirloom, but It's speculated that there are lot more legacies left behind that were still not found yet.

This is a cruel world where power reigns, so people do everything to get what they want.

It has to be known, that there were six supreme beings that were above the ranks of Gods and Demons, and they were called True Gods. Dauntless and unstoppable. They attained the peak of power and could only be feared and respected.

Till this day no one has really found any True God legacy, so people have forgotten about their existence. Although, there were a lot of god legacies, since they were constantly searching for the best inheritors for their bloodlines and their teachings. However, it is highly unlikely for a person to fully attain it, because Gods are Gods and humans are mere humans.

Their marks are all over the universe and they are treated with utmost respect until the present age. Still, there is no Deity alive to enjoy such treatment.

Zhao Ming arrived in the Douluo Continent with the Sign-In and Clock-In System, awakening the Puppet Martial Spirit—Yan Lingji, Yun Yun, Medusa, and more…As Zhao Ming led his ten puppets across the continent, the entire Douluo Continent gradually became his personal domain.Awakening the power of the world, he reveled in the embrace of beauties.Such is the destiny of men.He crushed Tang San, killed the Grandmaster, destroyed the Clear Sky School, unified the continent, and became the first emperor of the Douluo Continent.

Outside the planet, there is a dead and boundless darkness.

Unknown planets are connected, woven into shelters of life, and countless cosmic races explore, develop, multiply, and fight against the empty darkness.

The little nameless clan can gain power for hundreds of years, and the powerful clan of billions of years can disappear in an instant.

Cultivation and inheritance, Tianjiao contends for glory, and heroes rise.

The human race started strong and went to the end.

No. 5 Broken Star, 732 Island Town, Wang Yu started his cultivation.

A few years later, the human race has bloomed in every corner of the world.

Countless human race arrogance looked up at the only human race god emperor.

“God Emperor Wang Yu, how can I cultivate to follow in your footsteps?”

The god emperor looked back and was slightly surprised. “Cultivation is not just repetition over and over again. It will become natural after you have fully practiced. All of you are more talented and savvy than me. I believe I don’t need to say more about it.”

The arrogance of the human race looked at the figure of the god emperor floating away, and remained silent.

“Proficient, what is that…”

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.