The Prince's Fiancee is a Spatial Farm Girl - Chapter 395: Rising Sun Spear

[Female lead with no romantic interest + ancient female awakening + passionate righteousness + refusing to be a submissive woman] After failing to conquer the emperor, the system punished me by forcing me to livestream modern life to ancient people.

The man I personally supported to ascend the throne saw me wearing a strapless minidress and dancing seductively at a banquet amidst revelry and wine, and he flew into a rage, accusing me of violating womanly virtues.

I smiled calmly and pointed the camera towards a modern street, launching a shocking livestream for the ancient people!

“Good heavens? It’s nighttime now, but what are those pearls shining so brightly?”

Female lead: Those are light bulbs.

“There are indeed objects in this world that can transmit sound over thousands of miles away. What a marvelous treasure!”

Female lead: This is a cell phone.

“How could the women on the streets dress so scantily and shamelessly flirt with men? Don’t they know propriety? Why hasn’t the county office come to stop these debased women and thrown them into pigsties?”

Female lead: Because this is the glorious era of China!

As if becoming the [Final Antagonist] of a novel wasn't enough, Ivan had unfortunately or not also the memories of 6 other Antagonists of the six other Novels he had read.What happens when the mind, strength, goals, and pride of 7 Antagonists merge?It didn't matter to Ivan.All he wants now was to protect his Faith and for that he'd continue in then same path as he took in the novel with the difference than he wouldn't let the Protagonists kill him.For that first he must join the Exorcist Academy!The problem?He was possessed!

“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.

The road to immortality is full of dangers and obstacles. Let's see how a young slave of a prominent clan changes his destiny and creates his own legend. Thousands of years later, the world bows to him and refers to him as the Celestial Master or Heavenly Locust Emperor.......

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