A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Beyond the ancient relic, the intensely potent feasting flames, and Evora’s enigmatic state, Ansel remained wholly ignorant of the Elder Princess’s circumstances. Even the intelligence that “Evora had descended into madness” was forcibly imprinted upon the Duke of Wyvern’s consciousness by Ansel, exploiting the momentary breach in the labyrinth.

The Dukes, who would flee at the mere sight of the feasting flames, were consumed by fear upon glimpsing Evora, leaving no capacity to analyze her condition. Their utterances were merely echoes of Ansel’s orchestrations.

As Ansel abruptly traversed the rift to confront the Duke of Wyvern, a strategy had already crystallized in his mind.

Though not flawless and somewhat rudimentary, it sufficed.

The crux of this plan hinged on a single element: coercion.

“Thus, this presents our most opportune moment, or perhaps our sole opportunity,” Ansel proclaimed without hesitation.

“Evora currently lacks control over her powers. The sudden tears in the enigma’s fabric and the unbridled, wasteful outpouring of feasting flames attest to this. Her sole remaining faculty… is the manipulation of the spatial labyrinth for self-preservation.”

“My friends, contemplate this carefully. I need not even broach the possibility of her mastering that peculiar power while sequestered in the labyrinth as the rifts remain open… Let us merely posit that, in an instant of lucidity, Evora seals all breaches and retreats to an unreachable realm within the enigma, gradually assimilating that power.

Having not ascended to the sixth stage, she remains unburdened by the Abyss’s encroachment. Thus, she possesses time beyond our comprehension—ten, perhaps twenty years at her disposal. Upon fully harnessing that power…”

The young Hydral sighed, “The Empire may face an unprecedented tyrant.”

This time, the extraordinary beings were genuinely unsettled.

Ansel skillfully manipulated their fear of Evora and the Flamefeast to ignite their murderous intent towards her. He then heightened their perceived chances of victory by emphasizing Evora’s current “loss of control”. Finally, by presenting the direst outcome… he compelled them to act immediately, denying them any opportunity for hesitation or reflection.

Thus, he forced them to confront Evora directly, bringing distant death and destruction into sharp focus.

At this crucial juncture… all that remained was a gentle nudge—

“I previously stated that I understand your presence here is to end this calamity, not to meet your demise,” Ansel declared, one hand resting on his staff, the other behind his back, his upright posture exuding an aura of admiration.

With a smile, he continued, “For I have already breached that rift and successfully penetrated Evora’s spatial labyrinth. Though only for an instant, it proved sufficient.”

“Therefore… I shall be the first to cross the threshold, guiding you all from the vanguard.”

It was at this moment that the countenances of all extraordinary beings, including the Duke of Wyvern, truly transformed.

“Are you implying…” the extraordinary being from the Terminus Hall spoke with a trembling voice, “that you’ll lead the charge, Lord Hydral?”

“Indeed,” the youth inclined his head slightly. “It is my duty, and moreover, the obligation of House Hydral.”

“To eliminate the unworthy among the Flamefeast bloodline.”

“If that is the case…” Pablo, the president of the Alchemists’ Association, rose to his feet and declared solemnly, “I support Lord Hydral’s proposal.”

Indeed, only by placing himself on the chessboard, and in the most perilous position, could Ansel compel the other pieces to enter the game… This was the price he had to pay.

Uncertain of Evora’s current strength, unable to guarantee the loyalty of other extraordinary beings, and facing the prospect of being engulfed in endless feasting flames, Ansel had to devise a strategy to not only eliminate Evora but also orchestrate the demise of the vast majority of fifth-stage extraordinary beings.

With fate so directly inviting him to battle on the chessboard, offering such an opportune moment, how could he refuse?

Success would bring permanent resolution; the remaining extraordinary beings would never again pose a threat to Ansel.

His only concerns would then be the mysterious faction and the slim possibility of Ephesande’s survival.

Fate’s pieces would be swept from the board in one fell swoop.

And if he failed… so be it. Ansel was always prepared for a strategic retreat. He had the courage to gamble with fate, but not the foolishness to do so without a contingency plan.

Observing the extraordinary beings gradually concurring, Hydral’s smile grew more pronounced and sincere.

If this matter could be resolved, he could indeed have more choices, as Seri and Venna had hoped—

“I concur with Lord Hydral’s proposition, but surely we must implement protective measures,” a voice suddenly interjected.

An extraordinary being—a Duke—had spoken up.

Blatcher Bloodust, one of the primary instigators of the Western Land’s war.

Ansel narrowed his eyes slightly, responding cordially, “That is indeed a crucial aspect. However, gathered here are the most elite fifth-stage extraordinary beings of the Empire, nay, the entire continent. Surely we are not without recourse against the feasting flames, which, though vast in quantity, are significantly lacking in potency?”

Upon seeing Ansel’s response, the Duke of Bloodust appeared rather pleased. This duke, with his effeminate countenance, crossed his arms and spoke with notable confidence: “Lord Hydral speaks truly. However, given the urgency of our situation… While conventional alchemy is certainly out of the question, I possess something quite remarkable that, unexpectedly, may prove useful now.”

He rose, spreading his hands. Crimson blood gathered from his left fingertips to his right, coalescing mid-air into a shallow stream… before suddenly beginning to transmute.

“I imagine you’re all somewhat familiar with my area of research, so allow me to demonstrate my latest achievement… Hey, Clement, may I borrow your servant for a moment?”

With a wave of his hand, the conference hall doors shattered. The servant standing guard was telekinetically seized and flew into the Duke of Bloodust’s grasp, his skull tightly gripped.

Amidst the servant’s blood-curdling screams, his body began to rapidly… liquefy, melting into a pool of flesh, then coalescing into a sphere of blood. Finally, under the Duke’s triumphant gaze, it crystallized into a blood-red gem.

“…Black magic,” Pablo, the Alchemists’ Association president, hissed. “Blatcher, you’re desecrating life itself!”

“Desecrating life?”

The Duke of Bloodust tilted his head. “I’m merely studying raw materials. You’re still clinging to those old notions, Pablo.”

Ignoring Pablo’s furious glare, he offered the blood crystal to Ansel with a smirk.

“Lord Hydral, this is truly something special… Of course, it may seem trivial to you, but it represents a significant milestone in my path of life manipulation.”

“…The essence of ether,” Ansel observed, narrowing his eyes as he accepted the crystal. “You’ve managed to extract ether from a mortal?”

“Aha! As expected of the omnipotent Hydral!” The Duke of Bloodust became visibly excited. “Your discerning eye immediately detected the minute ether content in this blood crystal! When I first succeeded in extracting it, I couldn’t sleep for days!”

Blatcher Bloodust’s field of research was the most controversial and criticized among alchemists… biological alchemy.

He shared intricate connections with the Duke of Wyvern, a renowned fifth-stage adventurer, and Ansel… or more precisely, Faust.

The battle between Faust and the Duke of Wyvern three years ago could even be said to have originated from this very connection.

“… Enough prattle, Blatcher,” the Duke of Wyvern interjected abruptly. “What benefit does this object offer in slaying Evora?”

“Benefit? The benefit lies in the protective measures I just mentioned.”

With a snap of his fingers, the blood crystal unfurled into a gossamer-thin barrier. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he expounded, “The sheer volume of the feasting flame is staggering. Should we venture into its depths, we’d likely find ourselves enveloped. Lord Hydral is correct; its strength is woefully inadequate.

Rather than squandering vast amounts of ether to the feasting flame’s voracious appetite before we can dispatch Evora… wouldn’t it be prudent to forge a shield against the inferno beforehand?”

At that moment, the majority of the extraordinary beings grasped the true nature of the Duke of Bloodust’s “shield against the inferno.”

Most maintained their composure, some even regarding the Duke with heightened interest. A select few, however, furrowed their brows, and a handful wore expressions of unbridled fury.

“This blood gem can withstand the feasting flame’s incineration for… approximately 0.05 seconds,” the Duke of Bloodust mused, stroking his chin.

“And that’s due to the superior quality of Clement’s servant. For an ordinary person, it would likely be around 0.01 seconds.”

“In other words, to traverse the feasting flame normally would consume blood gems equivalent to one hundred people per second. With thirty of us, that’s three thousand. If we can eliminate Evora within ten minutes…”

The man snapped his fingers, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “1.8 million people’s worth of blood gems should suffice. Quite economical, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ah, but to err on the side of caution, considering the potential for heightened consumption during our battle with Evora… let’s quintuple that figure. Nine million people’s worth of blood gems, hmm…”

Blatcher Bloodust turned to Clement. “How many do you have left, Clement?”

“…I can provide at most one million,” Clement replied, his brow furrowing.

“One million is far too few. Azuregold, you have the most. You should contribute more.”

The Duke of Azuregold’s displeasure intensified. “Those are my assets, Bloodust. Don’t misunderstand.”

“You’re the one misunderstanding. They’re all destined for incineration anyway, so why not do it quicker and let us swiftly kill that damned bitch Evora?”

The Duke of Bloodust seemed to harbor a profound hatred for Evora. “I can offer at least three million from my end. You’d best not fall short of that number.”

Then, to everyone’s surprise, the Duke of Firmament, long at odds with the Duke of Bloodust, spoke unbidden:

“I have… two million devotees who can sacrifice themselves for the divine cause.”

A smile instantly blossomed on the Duke of Bloodust’s face. “Well, doesn’t that bring us to nine million?”

He turned to Ansel, his expression devoid of bloodlust for civilian slaughter or the cruelty of reducing lives to kindling. Instead, it bore only… the eager anticipation of Evora’s demise.

“What say you, Lord Hydral?”

*