A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

The order in the lower district urgently requires restoration. As per the plan previously reported to Ansel, it is imperative to swiftly cultivate certain shadowy factions to curb the rampant greed burgeoning within the hearts of the common folk.

The more Marlina follows Ansel, the more she comprehends the chaotic nature of the masses. They are not the pure innocents Seraphina perceives them to be. While they may indeed be pitiable, this does not equate to virtue. Their malevolence can manifest with unparalleled viciousness and baseness, knowing no bounds.

Yet, this cannot be laid at their feet; rather, it is the product of their depraved and murky environment.

These unremarkable commoners can, given the right catalyst, transform into the most nefarious of mobs.

Marlina remains indifferent to the nature of the masses. She merely understands that governing such a populace—tens, hundreds of millions, even billions of foolish commoners—is an immensely challenging task that leaves no room for idealistic fantasies.

Neither Ravenna nor Seraphina would contemplate these matters.

But there are those who will consider them, not just myself. I shall ensure that more individuals—

“Hello? Hello, hello?”

A familiar voice suddenly resounded from outside the window. Marlina paused, perplexed, and leaned out to investigate.

“Ah, it seems to be working. Ahem! Greetings, residents of Dispute Fortress—particularly those in the lower district.”

A bold, dashing female voice echoed throughout Dispute Fortress: “There are some things I must tell you.”

For reasons unknown, an ominous premonition arose in Marlina’s heart. She hastened to the window, discovering that the central screen in the lower district—which had been broadcasting the selection tournament—now displayed a figure.

She sat nonchalantly in an ornate chair, leaning forward with her arms resting on her thighs, fingers interlaced. Her dark red eyes exuded a dangerous aura that instinctively averted gazes.

She resembled a ravenous beast.

Isn’t this… the office in Dispute Fortress’s city hall? Why is Seri there? Why… is she in her true form now?

What is she thinking?

As questions multiplied, so did Marlina’s unease. She unconsciously clenched her fists, her gaze fixed intently upon her sister in the projection.

“Oh… you might be wondering who I am,” the tall young girl on screen scratched her snow-white short hair. “Previously, you’ve been calling me Fenrir… Oh, that’s right, I told you to call me that. But anyway, that’s not my real name.”

She shifted her posture, leaning back in the chair, crossing her legs, and resting her chin on one hand. With her chin slightly raised, that natural air of superiority… Marlina felt an unprecedented sense of unfamiliarity.

“My name is Seraphina Marlowe. It matters not if you haven’t heard this name before. All you need to remember is that I am Ansel of Hydral’s Head of Strength and Head of Wind. Half an hour ago, I ascended to the fourth stage, and incidentally, tore a fifth-stage dragon’s head in two. That should be enough.”

She didn’t proudly emphasize her status as Hydral’s pact head last, but rather mentioned it casually, while nonchalantly referencing her recent astounding feat.

“I’m talking to you now to announce something,” Seraphina in the image gripped the armrests and slowly rose, massaging her neck as she spoke:

“This territory no longer belongs to the current guy… Hey, throw him over here.”

With a thud, a figure writhing in pain was thrown at Seraphina’s feet. The young girl placed her foot on his head, her expression impassive as she slowly ground down.

“Can you see his face? I’ll turn him over… There, you should be able to see now. Since you can see him, you should all recognize him, this scumbag called Milo.”

Marlina’s gaze gradually became vacant.

In the projection, Seraphina, arms crossed and foot on Milo’s head, continued: “This bastard treated the lower district’s commoners like playthings and cattle. I’m very pissed, so—”

Crack.

In the image, Seraphina decisively crushed Milo’s head under her foot.

“So… he has to die.”

Her glacial, iron-like gaze seemed to penetrate the screen, transforming into a heavy hammer that struck everyone watching.

“Some were curious about why I’ve been helping the commoners. Now I’ll give you the reason: I simply hate trash who can trample over them at ease. It’s that simple.”

Seraphina’s arrogance was undisguised: “Therefore, from now on, whoever takes charge of this territory, whoever is responsible for maintaining its operations, must give the lower district’s commoners the respect they deserve and require. You must let them live like true human beings. If you can’t do that, then— Hey, wasn’t there another one? How…”

BOOM!

The image suddenly shook violently. A deafening roar and hoarse bellows erupted. The young girl in the projection looked startled for a moment, then shook her head, rubbing her temples: “You useless… Never mind, I’ll handle it myself.”

She stepped forward, her figure disappearing from view, but returned quickly, this time dragging a half-dead person with broken limbs, resembling a lifeless dog. Your next read awaits at My Virtual Library Empire

“Otherwise,” Seraphina lifted the barely breathing individual, thrusting their bloodied face directly towards the recording device, while grinning to reveal sharp fangs.

“Otherwise, this will be your fate.”

“Oh, I might have been a bit heavy-handed just now. You may not have recognized who this is. She’s currently the most formidable one in the city, um… In… Ino-something? The name’s quite difficult to pronounce.

Anyway, she’s the strongest one, that’s all that matters.”

With a flick of her wrist, she swiftly snapped Inothea’s neck, discarding the corpse like refuse, and remarked nonchalantly:

“So if you think you can defy me, by all means, try.”

Then, the young girl stood up and stretched lazily: “I don’t think there’s much else to say. I hope the next batch of people managing this domain will remember what I’ve just said, and also…”

A crimson-black aura slowly materialized around her, the magical wolf’s armor once again adorning her body. Though there was no actual increase in power, even through the projection, one could sense that ultimate, pure… violent killing intent.

“You may secretly oppress them countless times,” the wolf’s voice became somewhat overlapped, like an echo from the abyss. Those eyes, swirling with dark red light, were like soul-scorching flames, exuding an irresistible intensity and dominance.

“But I only need to catch you once, and that will be enough.”

Subsequently, the recording device seemed to be picked up by someone. The screen no longer displayed the young girl’s figure, but instead… the corpses of Inothea and Milo.

These two men, renowned throughout the Western Lands and standing above all others in Dispute Fortress, were effortlessly slaughtered like newly hatched chicks, their bodies now displayed before everyone’s eyes.

Thud.

At this moment, countless individuals, their faces drained of color, collapsed to the ground.

Perhaps it was bewilderment, perhaps shock, perhaps fear… The reasons for their collapse might differ, but Marlina was undoubtedly unique among them.

Her despair in this instant was more profound than anyone else’s.

The white-haired girl gazed at the two corpses on the screen, which seemed to mock her painstaking schemes, her ignorance, and her futile efforts. Her lips turned ashen, and the surge of blood made her vision blur, obscuring everything.

Marlina desperately wished that all of this was merely a dream.

Yet, whether it was the convulsion of her heart or the pain in her palms, everything told her that all that had just transpired was unequivocally real.

She racked her brain, thinking incessantly.

Everything she had hoped for, everything she had strived for, had been utterly destroyed.

Destroyed by the hands of the most important person in her life.

*