SKuLL

It's funny, isn't it?

Nobody asks to be born...

None of us choose the life we are forced to live....And yet, we are bound to it, trapped in a world where strength defines everything.

People worship when you are strong. They loathe when you are weak. They worship the god. They fear the devil. But why? Was it righteousness that gave the god victory over the devil, or was it simply strength? Why must we fear one and worship the other? Is the god so righteous? Is the devil so weak?

Would Wang Xiao still have everything if he were weak? Would they still worship him? Would those women have submitted so easily? 

No. It's always the strength.

Power rules all.

A man can own kingdoms, riches, even love—but lose his strength, and the world turns on him. 

His woman, the one who once looked at him with admiration, will crush him underfoot if she finds him unworthy. His own children, born of his blood, will stare at him with contempt, their eyes filled with disappointment. 

What is love if not submission to power? 

What is loyalty but the price of dominance?

Wang Xiao has learned this bitter truth. 

The sacrifices he made, the pain he endured, meant nothing. Without strength, he was nothing. 

But no longer...

He has seen the lie, the illusion of it all...

And now, the ancient myths rise once more, the gods claw their way from forgotten graves, and Wang Xiao, mistaken for the 8th Prince, feared by gods and mortals alike, finds himself at the center of it all.

Seven goddesses, each more beautiful, more dangerous than the last, now circle him, bound by fate. Their charm is powerful, their desires even more so. The guardian of the Atlantic tears apart nations to possess him. The Desert Princess offers her entire empire as a gift, yearning for his love... Even an ancient being, her power stripped away, bends her knee in submission, once feared, now powerless before him.

But would they have bowed if he were weak? 

Would they have loved him, served him, feared him? 

No. It's always the strength.

"He 'who' covers the sky with his hand," they whisper. "The gods who once played with universes like orbs... he'll make them swallow their own spit in fear."

Wang Xiao's gaze hardens as he stares at his reflection. 

The weak are forgotten... Strength is all that matters.

"The world doesn't care for the weak," Wang Xiao whispers to his reflection. "Your woman will turn her back, people will spit on your name... They'll forget you ever existed... everything you did for them would be insignificant and forgetten...Strength is all that truly matters."

And so, Wang Xiao will take what's his.

The gods, playing with the universe like toys, will fall. The devils, pulling at the strings of fate, will lose their grip. He will strip them of their power, their kingdoms, their very souls, if that's what it takes.

He isn't their pawn. Not anymore.

Would they have bowed if he were weak? Would they have given themselves so easily? Would they have even cared?

No.

It's always the strength.

Wang Xiao is no longer the man he once was. No longer human. No longer weak. He is the deviant.

And the world will soon know what that truly means.



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#NoYuri #NoNTR #Threesome #Harem #Strong to Stronger #Elf #Gore #Evil MC #Conquor #Action #Adventure #Imperial Harem #Revenge #Daughters #Fellatio #Supernatural #Urbanfantasy #Superpowers #Cultivation #Goddess #First-time Intercourse #Villain 

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Warning: The Novel is based upon a fictional Earth, and any resemblance is mere coincidence!

Discord: https://discord.gg/dsc4fftBeF

**Cover Page is not owned by Author**

Deviant: No Longer Human

"How is he… able to do it?" Wenxi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched from the balcony of the villa.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief, fixed on the battlefield where Wang Xiao was holding his own against three Great-Grandmasters, despite restricting himself to Grandmaster-level strength.

Each of his clones, crafted from sand and controlled with pinpoint precision, moved with deadly grace, matching the overwhelming force of his opponents blow for blow.

Mini-earthquakes rippled across the battlefield, and the air seemed to tremble with his might.

Athene stood next on the balcony, her eyes calm and distant as she gazed at the battlefield below.

From the way she held herself—still, composed, her posture flawless—there was something about her that made the air itself seem colder, more controlled.

There was no trace of emotion on her face, not even a flicker of concern for the blood-soaked chaos beneath her.

Survived when he shouldn't have...