The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy - Chapter 683Act 4: Fallen Heaven - : Reunion In Eleventh Land

In this world, a cataclysm has caused the appearance of monsters and other disasters, emerging from dimensional rifts and gradually pushing the world toward its destruction. To face it, some humans having awakened various magical powers are fighting against this apocalypse.

Dora, one of them, has a special “Avatar” class which gives her access to all the other classes, at the cost of great difficulty to level them up. Despite his enormous potential, he chose to appear incompetent to get his team kicked, just so he could live a lazy life with his family, but his habit of fighting and beating the woman's brother the strongest in the Kingdom reveals her talents and she decides to enroll her in the royal academy.

Reluctant at first, his mother gives him the motivation he needs to pursue this past, but little did they know what kind of monster they threw to the world. Dora is not a hero wishing for peace, but a monster getting addicted to the taste of power, wealth, and freedom.

With his strange condition of being not one but many people inside one body, each with a different personality, but the same thirst for more, “they” use a strange system giving them a new vision of the world around them.

Dora pursues an unknown goal until he meets someone who knows more about his true nature than himself and sets him on a path that will nourish his eternal first, to the cost of his humanity, but in a world collapsing, isn't a monster the greatest weapon?

With many personalities in one body, each having a different relationship with different people, a system taking them further and further away from their humanity, and an increasingly hostile world where humans kill each other while monsters slaughter them, could the situation be worse?

Well, it looks like Dora isn't the only one with a system.

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In a world where the human race is bound to be annihilated, six heroes are summoned with the sacred mission of saving mankind from extinction. The task of leading them in their crusade falls upon the shoulders of a single amnesic and weak man forsaken in the wilderness alone without any means of survival.

Join Ryu’s adventure in this slow paced journey submerged in a fantasy world where he’ll meet friends, enemies and love interests who will discover this brand new world along with him.

So, survive in the parallel world, please!

Born with a seed of immortality, he rose from the Han tribe at the end of the century, and embarked on the road of immortality, step by step, until he reached the other side of immortality.

Efforts will pay off. For cultivators, what better golden finger is there?

- 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.