End of the Magic Era - Chapter 1: World’s End

Damien was reincarnated as the villain in a shelved novel. He find himself on a wedding scene where the protagonist was destined to rob the marriage.He smirked while looking at the proud protagonist and arrogant heroine.Aren't you proud and arrogant? Let you know the consequences of offending the Villain!Destroy the background behind you and capture your family!Don't you love her? Aren't you the son of fortune? Kneel Down!!Now the choice is yours! Do you choose your family or the heroine?“Hehehe didn't the heavenly dao want to suppress and kill me? Let's see how I will play with your chosen 'son and daughters' to death! When the auspicious time will come, I will kill you too!!!”

In a parallel world, everyone awakened to weapon talents. They used divine weapons to battle against ferocious creatures.

Hence, the Forgemaster job class was born and was held in high esteem.

Wu Mo transmigrated to this world and became a student of the top academy, Divine Arms Academy.

The end-of-semester practical exam was in three days. Students were required to forge a divine weapon on the spot.

However, he was not prepared at all!

Fortunately, he awakened a system which allowed him to see the blueprints of all mythical weapons.

[Mjolnir]

[Divine Bow of the Winter God]

[Eternal Spear]

[Shield of Zeus]

…

Since he was a blacksmith, he decided to create a hammer for himself first.

On the day of the end-of-semester exam, the whole world was astonished!

An examiner exclaimed, “We asked you to submit your assignment and you are submitting Mjolnir?”

Ye Ming transmigrated to a world of swords and magic, here there are giant dragons, elves, orcs, magical beasts, the undead…

“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.