MTL - Super Invincible Battleship - Chapter 2 仗侠仗义

A girl Alicia lived as an orphan in a world of sword and magic Ciel.

One day, she learned that she was an “otome game’s heroine”. Even her parents’ death was simply a part of the scenario. Alicia judged the heroine’s setting as 「nonsense」and discarded it decisively. She introduced herself as adventurer 『Aria』, gradually mastered multiple weapons and magic, and grew to become the 「Ash Crowned Princess of Slaughter」! But, by accepting a request to guard the “villainess”, before she realized it she got dragged into the stage where nobles quarreled against each other――？

「I am “I”. I’m not a game character!」

Create weapon! Train your body!

Survive the fighting against powerful enemies and smash apart the otome game!

A sublime and exhilarating other world battle fantasy with charming fighting heroine!

“Screw magic, I want to learn how to do cool flips and stuff.”

Magic is awesome, until you've studied it for centuries.

Doevm reincarnates into a human to experience the path of a fighter to its fullest and swears not to rely on magic.

There is only one problem, a goddess stands in his way.

She pits him against both the hero and the villain for all of eternity.

How will he escape this, with magic or his fists? Maybe both?

A bitter old man gets tossed into the world of Tamriel, as a descendant of a religious madman no less, watch as he delves into the secrets of magic and explores the wonders of this danger-filled world, and with luck and a lot of magic juice possibly even beyond.This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic (or anything for that matter). English is not my native language but I think there shouldn't be too many mistakes. The story will focus on magic and exploration with most likely a bit of romance later on.

“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.