Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

As the battle continued to escalate, the curse’s potency grew, sapping the strength and resolve of the combatants.

Hong Meilin, who had valiantly dispelled the curse for countless experts, found herself fatigued and weary.

Nevertheless, the humans and beasts fighting alongside her displayed unwavering determination, matching the demons blow for blow.

Wang Ying, however, remained entwined in a fierce duel with Zyrithia, her strength slowly waning as she fought against the powerful devil princess.

Only her ancient artifacts and talisman symbols managed to force a momentary seriousness upon Zyrithia, their attacks possessing the potency to harm her.

Elder Hua, recognizing the gravity of the situation, rallied the remaining experts under her command and rushed to aid Wang Ying in her battle against Zyrithia. With their combined strength, they hoped to turn the tide and reclaim the upper hand.

Amidst the chaos, Ye Chen fought alongside Zyrithia, his sword techniques and profound understanding of the Laws of Sword on full display.

Each swing of his blade left a trail of devastation in its wake, injuring numerous members of Wang Ying’s faction.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the Oceanic Tempest Storm Devil Clan’s hideout, a scene of intrigue and trepidation unfolded.

The clan members, eager to share the news of Tristan’s bloodline evolution with their elders, were met with a terrifying sight.

Shadows, powerful and menacing, swept through the hideout, mercilessly slaughtering every demon in their path.

Their swiftness and precision were unparalleled, piercing the heads of the clan members with chilling efficiency, except for Tristan.

Tristan, astounded and shaken by this unexpected turn of events, quickly realized that these shadows possessed a formidable strength, capable of annihilating even his fellow clan members.

The same shadows that had shielded him from Ye Chen’s attack now revealed a deadly power that Tristan could exploit to his advantage.

A sinister smile crept across Tristan’s face as he recognized the opportunity before him. With the corpses, blood, and hearts of his fallen comrades, there was a chance he could regenerate his injuries and reclaim his former might.

The prospect of absorbing the hearts of his clan members filled him with perverse excitement, knowing that his power would not only be restored but elevated to new heights.

His heart pounding with anticipation, Tristan wasted no time as he crawled towards the lifeless bodies, his mind consumed by the dark alchemy of his wicked plans.

The first step he knew, was to recover from his debilitating injuries and unleash a force that would make him even more formidable than before.

Tristan’s recovery from his injuries was swift, thanks to the macabre ritual he performed using the hearts of his fallen clan members. However, he knew that harnessing the Storm Devil God Fury came at a great cost.

The repercussions of utilizing this forbidden technique could leave him severely weakened and vulnerable to any threat that crossed his path.

Therefore, he decided to exercise caution and employ this power only when the direst of circumstances demanded it.

Carrying with him the hearts of seven Lord Realm demons and six King Realm demons, Tristan ventured onto the battlefield.

The hearts of the King Realm demons held within them the potential to activate the fearsome Storm Devil God Fury technique, a devastating force that could tip the scales of the battle in his favor.

He was well aware that each King Realm expert possessed three hearts, and with only two King Realm demons present in the hideout, he had amassed a total of six of these potent hearts.

As he joined the fray, Tristan carefully assessed the situation, waiting for the opportune moment to unleash the power contained within those stolen hearts.

The hearts of the Lord Realm demons, on the other hand, held the key to his recovery, providing the energy he needed to heal his wounds and regain his former strength.

Tristan remained acutely aware of a lurking presence, an enigmatic figure concealed within the shadows, observing his every move.

Despite the uncertainty and the unknown intentions of this demonic figure, Tristan stood firm, refusing to succumb to fear or intimidation.

He planned to deal with all his problems with his overwhelming power.

As Tristan boldly stepped onto the battlefield, a ripple of astonishment swept through the ranks of the demons, including the Oceanic Tempest Storm Devil Clan and the Nether Curseweaver Devil Clan.

They were taken aback by his return, his mere presence a stark reminder of his resilience in the face of grave injuries.

However, what caught their attention even more was the conspicuous absence of the demons who once encircled Tristan, serving as his loyal followers.

Their collective absence spoke volumes, causing a shiver of apprehension to snake its way through the members of the Oceanic Tempest Storm Devil Clan.

A shared sense of unease etched itself onto their faces, for they knew all too well the extent of Tristan’s wrath.

They had dared to entertain the sinister notion of using him as an experimental subject, a pawn in their quest to unravel the secrets concealed within his bloodline evolution.

Tristan’s voice sliced through the tension, his words laden with a mixture of seething anger and icy determination. His gaze pierced through the human and beast factions, a silent promise of retribution shimmering in his eyes.

“You have shown audacity beyond measure, daring to contemplate using me as a mere test subject. Fear not, for I shall deal with each and every one of you in due time,” Tristan declared, his voice resonating with an otherworldly menace.

“But before that, the moment has come to purge these repulsive humans and beasts who have dared to challenge our might.”

The air crackled with anticipation as Tristan’s chilling words hung in the atmosphere, carrying with them a harbinger of impending doom.

His return, imbued with newfound strength and a thirst for vengeance, sent shockwaves through the hearts of everyone.

Wang Hao stood at the forefront of the human forces, his expression a mixture of disbelief and astonishment. The sight before him shattered the confines of logic and defied all rationality.

Tristan, the one he had inflicted severe injuries upon, had made a triumphant return, his body restored to its former glory with an astonishing speed that defied the limits of his demonic bloodline’s regeneration.

Caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, Wang Hao found himself grappling with a surge of conflicting emotions—surprise mingled with a tinge of unease.

He knew all too well the extent of the devastation Tristan was capable of unleashing, and his earlier victory over the formidable demon seemed to fade into insignificance.

A chilling silence descended upon the battlefield as all eyes turned towards Tristan, their collective breath held in anticipation of the impending confrontation.

Tristan, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Wang Hao, raised a pointed finger, his voice resonating with an icy edge that cut through the air like a sharpened blade.

“It is you, human, who shall be the first to taste the full measure of my wrath,” Tristan declared, his voice carrying an ominous undertone that sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it.

The air crackled with tension as the confrontation between Tristan and Wang Hao reached its zenith.

Sensing the imminent danger that loomed over their leader, the formidable warriors of Wang Hao’s faction swiftly moved to shield him from Tristan’s malevolent intentions.

Amongst these stalwart defenders, Guan Yin stood at the forefront, her unwavering determination etched upon her face.

Ye Chen, caught in the throes of his own fierce battle against Wang Ying’s faction, watched this scene unfold with a mixture of frustration and concern.

His heart ached at the sight of Guan Yin risking her own safety to protect Wang Hao, but his commitment to his own cause kept him locked in combat, unable to rush to her aid.

A torrent of emotions surged within Ye Chen—a potent blend of regret, anger, and a burning desire to ensure the safety of his dear childhood friend.

His fists clenched tightly, his mind racing with thoughts of how he could break free from his current engagement to come to Guan Yin’s rescue.

But the battlefield was unforgiving, each moment slipping away like grains of sand through an hourglass. .𝙘𝙤𝙢

Ye Chen’s mind swelled with an exaggerated sense of his own formidable talents, a realization that only served to highlight the insurmountable gap between his feeble strength and the overwhelming might of the demonic behemoth, Tristan.

Deep down, he was well aware that engaging in a direct confrontation with such a superior adversary would be a reckless and suicidal endeavor. Yet, the irony lay in his hypocritical rationalization and self-righteous musings.

Within the labyrinth of his thoughts, Ye Chen sought solace and reassurance, indulging in a delusion of grandeur that bordered on narcissism.

His inner monologue dripped with self-assurance and a misplaced sense of superiority as he whispered, “Why should I, a man of unparalleled greatness, sacrifice my precious existence for a woman who has forsaken me? There are endless wonders awaiting me, countless triumphs yet to be claimed. Fear not, Sister Yin, for I shall bestow upon this loathsome demon a punishment so severe and merciless that it shall forever be etched in the annals of irony.”

Amidst the irony of his inflated ego, Ye Chen couldn’t ignore the undeniable truth—the terrifying strength possessed by the demonic entity, Tristan, far surpassed his own meager abilities.

Yet, his arrogance blinded him to this fact, as he reveled in the misguided belief that his talent would allow him to surpass Tristan’s might soon.