My Beautiful Commander - Chapter 156 - The Grand Auction (1)

After finishing the DxD light novel, a Warhammer 40K fan loses his life and finds himself, without any clear explanation, in the body of an angel banished from paradise by his Heavenly Father.[Ding!!!][Congratulations, Lord Sanguinius.][You have been selected to become a member of the dimensional discussion group.]“'m just a member... not the administrator?”Author's Note:A story born from a whim, but one that can flourish with your support.## Warning:I do not own any of the works represented here, such as DxD, Warhammer 40k, or others (the cover doesn't belong to me either).This is a harem (small, but still a harem).Author’s note:!!!! Another important piece of information!!!Please, do not read this story if you are unable to distinguish between an Ecchi light novel and religious events or statements related to various sacred scriptures.If that’s not the case for you and you post crap in the comments, I’ll just delete it (this is a fanfic, not a place for religious debates or discussions related to the divine word).Honestly, I didn’t want to include this in the synopsis (it makes me seem like I hate faith when I actually have religious friends), but a VERY intelligent reader managed to persuade me to explain to people the difference between an Ecchi light novel and the precious writings of human history

Orin Stonewood rises from a prestigious smithing family in the Astral Kingdom. Wealth, recognition, excellence, and charisma - he had it all. But life from twenty-five ended on such terms for him. He falls victim to a dark ritual. The fate after this mystery was to rise and fall in every life he reincarnates in. The ninth reincarnation made him Zmey Ashbane. Into a world of terrifying, exciting tales. It seemed as if every encounter in this world wanted to tie him down for some reason. But he knew his goal. To break free from the ritual and rise as a master of fate, not its pawn.(Update rate: 28 new chapters a week)(The book has a slow progression. If, after reading up to chapter 100, nothing in this story interests you, that means it isn’t for you.)Due to the progression, I will lock the novel at chapter 60.

A single beam of light could annihilate the world, a single blade of grass could sever the stars.Shen Qing transmigrated to a magnificent universe where immortals and mortals coexisted, becoming a lowly hunter.With the help of the Water Ink Panel, Shen Qing could endure the refinement of Qi-Blood and cultivate a hundred techniques.A technique, after a thousand hammerings, could border on art, and an art, after a hundred refinings, could border on Dao.From the common Bow Technique of rural hunting, to the Sky-Patrolling Sun Shooting Bow Technique;From the Nine Skills, which nourished and trained Qi and Blood, to the undying Six Paths of Reincarnation Technique;From the outward release of strength in Wind Defying Finger, to the Qi that suppressed mountains and rivers with the Eight Desolate Annihilation Seal;From enduring the refinement of Qi-Blood, he embarked on a difficult path of seeking Dao; to commanding the skies, with the divine might as if overseeing a prison, having mastered the balance of the six realms.It was only when Shen Qing looked back that he realized he had unwittingly become the supreme ruler above ten thousand Daos, an unparalleled True Monarch!

“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.