A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

During his confrontation with the Duke of Wyvern, Ansel had similarly purloined the technology Clement had stolen from the Duke of Bloodust. He had Flamelle refine and enhance it, creating a process infinitely superior to what the Duke of Bloodust deemed perfect.

More stable, more effective, and not confined to biological alchemy, it focused on creating neither human nor beast entities, even granting monsters human-like cognition.

Shadow crows still existed on the continent, but all had been captured by the pact heads under Flamelle’s direction, delivered to Ansel as raw materials.

Crow… represented the pinnacle of this endeavor.

—Colossal Dragons had been the initial choice, but regardless of their form, those with dragon blood invariably obeyed the Dragon King, a loyalty even Hydral couldn’t subvert. Thus, Ansel never considered dragons as candidates for the Head of Beasts.

He entrusted this ritual to Shadewell, enabling them to imbue certain members with formidable power using the remaining shadow crows. Crow, however, chose to utilize the final shadow crow on Nine.

Thus, Fafnir was not truly alone; nine kin still existed. Ansel had initially planned to use this knowledge to recruit and manipulate Fafnir when the time was ripe. Alas… now Fafnir would be employed elsewhere.

The declaration—”This is your last kin”—shattered Fafnir’s core.

Its consciousness, not human but shadow craw, grappled with a beast’s tribal instinct incomprehensible to humans. This awareness, now infused with human sensibilities, ceaselessly tormented Fafnir.

Neither fully shadow craw nor human, it had established the adventurers’ guild seeking belonging, finding long-lost solace. Yet, faced with its sole remaining kin, the loneliness it had relinquished surged forth like a tidal wave, engulfing it entirely.

Yet… a glimmer of hope remained.

Even if only one, the presence of a single kin offered immense consolation.

Moreover, the fury etched into its very marrow and soul, the hatred towards the Duke of Bloodust, had reached its zenith.

Were it not for fear of frightening Nine, Fafnir would have erupted in hysterical roars.

Suppressing its rage, Fafnir gently placed its beast-like claw atop Nine’s head, stroking softly. Without looking at Ansel, it spoke with grave sincerity:

“I owe you a debt, Faust. Name your price.”

“I said before, I can’t protect her, and neither can you.”

Mr. Faust rose, moving towards the exit as if to depart.

“As it happens, the recompense I require from you can resolve this issue.”

“…”

Fafnir slowly raised its head, as if struck by realization, its dark eyes peering through the mask’s holes with profound intensity.

“Odelia won’t stand idle. She and other Revolutionary Army members will undoubtedly attempt to assassinate the Duke of Bloodust, though success remains improbable. However, if—”

The dark-haired youth at the doorway turned slightly, eyeing Fafnir peripherally.

“If you and I join, even with another Duke present, Blatche Bloodust’s demise is assured.”

Odelia, the sole legion commander of the Western land, an army unto herself, led the smallest Revolutionary Army contingent, moving freely through this chaotic land, surviving countless battles.

Fafnir required the Duke of Wyvern’s protection not due to inability to match the Duke of Bloodust, but because a Duke’s influence transcended individual capability. Its mastery over shadow elements undoubtedly ranked among the empire’s top three, with only Chronos Guild masters rivaling its assassination prowess.

Add to this… the legendary adventurer Faust, who three years prior had fought the Duke of Wyvern to a standstill.

Faced with such a lineup, the Duke of Bloodust’s fate was indeed sealed. Crucially, none would suspect Hydral, who appeared entirely unconnected to these three.

“I grant you but twenty minutes,” Ansel uttered, his hand resting on the doorknob as the enveloping shadows receded of their own accord. “Not a second more shall I tarry.”

With those words, he departed, leaving Fafnir and Nine in solitude.

Fafnir, still gently caressing Nine as if soothing a child, gazed at the closed door with a complex expression.

“To slay… that mangy cur.”

“Faust, you remain… utterly unchanged.”

Nine’s countenance stirred at these words. She lifted her gaze to Fafnir, her voice as gentle and harmless as a lamb’s:

“Miss Fafnir, have you known Mr. Faust…for long?”

“Long… yet not excessively so,” Fafnir mused, a hint of reminiscence gleaming in its obsidian eyes. Read exclusive content at My Virtual Library Empire

“Our paths crossed three years past, a mere happenstance.”

“I see… Was he as benevolent then as he appears now?”

“Benevolent?” Fafnir scoffed. “He’s far removed from such virtues. That man is a demon who toys with hearts. You mustn’t be deceived. Even if he’s saved you, never allow yourself to fall under his spell.”

As she spoke, Fafnir’s demeanor grew increasingly solemn.

“A… demon,” Nine tilted her head, the very picture of innocence were it not for her raspy voice.

To Fafnir, she appeared the epitome of innocence.

“How could Mr. Faust be a demon?”

“I speak quite literally—he possesses the power to bewitch minds.”

“Domination, manipulation, dragging others into the abyss, effortlessly crushing dignity and self… Such is the extent of his malevolent power.”

Fafnir gently cupped Nine’s mask-covered face with its beast-like claw. “Thus, you must exercise the utmost caution.”

“Is that so?” Nine’s expression remained puzzled. “If Mr. Faust possesses such power, why… does he remain alone?”

Fafnir sneered, “Naturally, because he deems those he’s broken unworthy, discarding them without a second thought.”

Yet Nine lowered her head slightly, speaking softly: “Even so, shouldn’t Mr. Faust be able to command multitudes at will, indulging his every whim?”

“But throughout our journey…”

The girl murmured, as if questioning both Fafnir and herself:

“I’ve never witnessed him employ such power.”

“…Miss Fafnir, is Mr. Faust truly abusing this ability?”

Fafnir paused momentarily, seemingly pondering with genuine consideration. Regardless of Nine’s inquiries, she would respond with patience.

“In the labyrinth realms and ruins, amidst battles with others, he reveled in using this power to subjugate. He appeared to… derive pleasure from crushing others’ dignity and sense of self. Hence my characterization of him as a demon.”

“However, beyond combat, he indeed refrained from abusing this power. Moreover…”

The shadow crow, neither human nor beast, spoke softly, “Following his decisive battle with the Duke of Wyvern, it seems he ceased employing this power in combat altogether.”

“Yet, shortly after the confrontation with the Duke of Wyvern, he vanished suddenly. I remain uncertain of the particulars.”

Deriving pleasure from crushing others’ dignity and sense of self…only to change after the battle with the Duke of Wyvern…

Mr. Ansel, could it be…

Possibilities began to crystallize in Nine’s mind, bringing her closer to completing the puzzle of Ansel’s inner world etched in her memory.

If the reason for the battle with the Duke of Wyvern aligns with my suspicions…

“Miss Fafnir,” Nine adopted a facade of childlike curiosity, “Why did Mr. Faust engage in combat with the Duke of Wyvern?”

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