The Ancestor of our Sect Isn’t Acting like an Elder - Chapter 217.2

A phoenix is a creature of legends, a wonder of the world, an imagery of life and destruction. This fabled creature signifies the rise of a hero in a virtual world where battles occur for the sake of honor and glory!

Zhang Yang was a professional gamer in the first and most fantastic game that revolutionized the world: God’s Miracle. A game where traditional knowledge in RPGs did not matter anymore, players would have to manually target and evade attacks, giving rise to a significant gap in skill between a professional and an amateur gamer.

Zhang Yang’s downfall came a little too soon. His girlfriend was snatched, his guild was harassed and disbanded, and he was even driven to commit suicide! Jumping off the top floor of a hotel, Zhang Yang seemed as though he was soaring like a phoenix. Little did he know that the end of his life also signified his rise from the ashes.

- Description from novelupdates

In the beginning, when they all thought that she was “he”….

ML #1: We will be brothers for life!

ML #2: This time I’ll reluctantly let you have the #1 seat.

ML #3: I will properly repay royal teacher!

ML #4: Ah Rong is my closest little brother, I trust him.

Afterwards…

MLs: I’m seriously such a fool.

MLs: What do I do, I think I’m gay. I fell in love with my bro/rival/teacher….

Afterwards….

MLs: I’m straight! As straight as steel!

Note:
MC is a girl crossdressing as a boy, she knows how to fight, and naturally possess the gold finger halo from the author.

All the ML(s) is the same person, 1v1, sc, HE

- Description from Novelupdates

In regards to the MMORPG Cross Reverie, Sakamoto Takuma boasted an overwhelming strength that was enough for him to be called the Demon King by the other players. One day, he gets summoned to another world with his appearance in the game. There, there are two people that insist “I am the real summon master.” Takuma gets slave-turning magic used for summoned beasts cast on him by the girls –

“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.