A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

As night descended, Ansel ascended the dilapidated battlements, their surfaces still marred by expansive, mottled bloodstains.

Seraphina sat cross-legged atop the city wall, her gaze lifted to the sparse stars adorning the firmament.

Miss Wolf had neglected her coiffure for some time; her once neck-length tresses now cascaded over her shoulders. Heedless of appearance, her snow-white locks stood unruly, reminiscent of the most prominent ruff on a wolf’s neck. Her sideburns, too, had grown to considerable length.

The howling, frigid wind swept her white forelocks behind her ears. In the throes of rapid maturation, much of her girlish naivety had imperceptibly waned. To most observers, her profile now exuded an awe-inspiring, even chilling, solemnity and majesty.

The glance from those dark crimson orbs was more than ordinary mortals could withstand.

Yet, when directed at a certain man, that predatory, glacial gaze would instantly melt.

“Ansel!”

Seraphina exclaimed, turning her head upon sensing his approach. She waved, forcing an unnatural smile as if to allay his concerns. “You’ve come to find me.”

Clad in casual attire rather than his customary elegant black suit, Ansel smiled and seated himself beside Seraphina.

“When someone skips dinner and doesn’t sleep at the usual hour, I naturally come to investigate,” Ansel remarked, gently stroking Seraphina’s head. “Keeping your troubles from me is quite unlike you, Seri.”

“…”

Seraphina sighed, resting her face against Ansel’s head with a touch of lassitude.

She seemed to have grown taller, likely reaching 184 centimeters now. Already imposingly tall, any further growth would necessitate Ansel tilting his head back to meet her gaze.

“Ansel…”

The young girl softly grasped his hand. Due to her proportions, her hand actually enveloped his, its soft, delicate touch completely encompassing Ansel’s palm.

Despite appearing to be the more dominant figure, she vulnerably sought strength from Ansel.

“This world grows worse with me passing each place,” Seraphina murmured. “I once thought my life was miserable enough – being looked down, often hungry, treated like a wild dog from the countryside. Yet now I realize… I was remarkably fortunate.”

“The people of Dispute Fortress’s lower district… they’re just as Marli described. They hardly live as humans at all, merely toys penned in pits by extraordinary beings.”

That collapsing spell – had she not obtained the solution from Boneblade, had she not collaborated with the Revolutionary Army to surreptitiously dismantle it during battle, Seraphina couldn’t fathom how long she’d have been trapped in the lower district, how long those civilians would have continued existing as mere playthings.

“I thought the lower district’s civilians had it bad enough, but this war…”

Seraphina turned her gaze downward, where refugees from various regions huddled at the foot of the crumbling walls.

The fortunate ones erected makeshift tents from tattered cloth to shield against the cold wind. The less fortunate huddled together for warmth, shivering in the night air.

Unable to bear the sight, she lowered her eyes in silence.

War had seemed a distant concept to Seraphina, as it did to most imperial citizens.

But with the disappearance of that absolute existence from her throne, with no one left to compel universal submission, chaos gradually bared its fangs at the empire. And it all began … from the very bottom.

Seraphina tightened her grip on Ansel’s hand. After a prolonged silence, she asked hoarsely, “Ansel, there’s fighting in the North too, isn’t there?”

Ansel gently reassured her, “Your villagers have been brought to Hydral territory. Try not to worry too much.” Your next journey awaits at My Virtual Library Empire

Knowing her concerns extended beyond this, he added, “Many things are beyond even my control. Dwelling on them now will only bring you needless anguish.”

The young Hydral avoided directly answering Seraphina’s question. The northern conflict was war in its truest sense, not the meaningless, absurd skirmish between Bloodust and Firmament born of personal grievances.

After Grey Tower and Iron Blade jointly declared independence, their alliance inexplicably shattered. Both now vied for sole dominion over the North, each seeking to utterly annihilate the other. As the Revolutionary Army’s birthplace and most formidable region, New World was forced to emerge from the shadows to shield innocent civilians from the ravages of war.

Six of the eleven fifth-stage commanders were stationed in the North, creating a three-way deadlock. Even the deaths of extraordinary beings had become commonplace, let alone those of civilians.

These were matters unsuitable for Seraphina’s ears. Ansel had more crucial arrangements in the North, involving the highly unique Duke of Grey Tower—

Have you not considered saving the North from the brink of destruction by war?

The question unbidden arose in Ansel’s mind, but the voice… it seemed to emanate simultaneously from both Ravenna and Seraphina.

The young Hydral suddenly fell silent, but Seraphina, equally preoccupied, failed to notice this peculiarity. Disinclined to accept his consolation, she shook her head and said:

“I won’t overthink it, Ansel. I’ve long known that I can only deal with what’s right in front of me.”

“I’m just… a bit saddened.”

Seraphina, poised to embark on the path of a dominator subjugating all beings, was still, despite her resolve, merely a sixteen-year-old girl.

She had never experienced any truly profound suffering or sorrow that could catalyze an epiphany. She yearned to become sufficiently strong, yet the world’s cruelty left her bewildered and dejected.

Fortunately, there remained one place in this world where she could freely express her vulnerability.

“Ansel… I may soon do many things beyond your control,” Seraphina murmured, embracing Ansel’s waist. “Will you hate me?”

“If I were to hate you, would I have brought you here?” Ansel countered with a smile, his hand repeatedly stroking Seraphina’s white hair as if soothing a large dog.

The tall girl’s form softened, gradually resting her head on Ansel’s lap. Eyes closed, she responded with absolute trust: “I know Ansel won’t. Only Ansel won’t. Only Ansel…”

Her voice gradually faded, for Seraphina had always believed that besides Ansel, there was one other person who would never blame her, who would undoubtedly understand her.

But that person had changed, transformed into a stranger Seraphina no longer recognized.

The young Hydral silently placed his hand on Seraphina’s face, the warmth from his palm momentarily giving rise to hesitation in his heart.

To mitigate the potential risks Marlina might pose by pushing her into an abyss of insignificance to himself also meant… the severance of Marlina and Seraphina’s bond.

If that ordinary girl’s heart truly held nothing but himself, Seraphina would never accept such a Marlina.

For Seri’s sake, if I were to halt now, there might still be a chance to mend their relationship. Should I…?

This thought, however, was fleeting. That moment of hesitation remained just that – a moment.

“Ansel.”

“Hmm?”

“Though I fear you’ll dislike it, I still want to say it once more.”

“What do you want to say?”

–>