A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Ansel stood upon the crimson plain, gazing at the sun rising on the horizon.

The six survivors unearthed yesterday were to be escorted to Valrhona’s domain, a task eagerly volunteered for by the Crow’s Nest.

However, this relocation would have to wait until the situation in the enigma realm stabilized. Red Valley City’s teleportation point had been utterly destroyed, forcing adventurers to journey here on foot. Diverting manpower for a return trip or squandering precious teleportation items merely to transport a handful of mortals was impractical.

Abandoning those he had rescued was not Ansel’s style. These six were destined for Valrhona’s domain, where, at the very least, his influence would ensure a tolerable future. Thus, they would need to endure a few days in this ruined city.

Had he been acting as Hydral, Ansel might have invested time in these survivors—soothing their spirits, analyzing their characters, and arranging optimal futures for them.

But such actions were unbecoming of Faust. So he simply enclosed them within a protective barrier, provided ample sustenance, and departed to await the opening of the enigma realm’s portal.

The legendary adventurer, somewhat bored, observed the rising sun. The dawn’s light bathed him in a pale golden glow, yet the aura he exuded was jarringly discordant with this warm tableau.

Boom — !

A thunderous boom echoed from afar, causing Ansel to raise an eyebrow. “The battle commences already?”

In the wake of this resounding crash, Ansel discerned a mass of black specks on the horizon—a convergence that resembled a human tide… No, a tide of corpses.

The necromancers from Crow’s Nest had made their move.

The struggle among various adventurer’s guilds for the right of first exploration into zero realm enigmas was commonplace in the Western Lands. This principle extended beyond enigma portals to various ruins, secret troves, and discoveries by Zero Explorers.

Optimistically, it was a means to settle disputes over resource allocation before exploration began, preventing conflicts during the expedition. Realistically… it provided a convenient pretext for plunder and monopolization.

Valrhona had specifically dispatched a fifth-stage necromancer—a type nearly useless in enigma realm exploration, serving purely as the guild’s enforcer. Red Valley City, having recently endured consecutive battles, was the perfect stage for a necromancer. Barring unforeseen circumstances, Valrhona seemed poised to claim the right of first exploration.

Of course, that was assuming… nothing unexpected occurred.

“Fernando, stand down.”

A deep, raspy voice resonated from within the corpse army, numbering at least four thousand strong. “Here, you Gluttons, no matter how many you send, you are no match for me.”

Before the massive undead legion, a colossal armored giant, standing four meters tall, slowly brought down an enormous war hammer. The mouth beneath the helmet curved into a grin, reminiscent of a long-starved beast:

“How can we know without trying?”

Behind him, three mages simultaneously struck their staves against the ground. A surge of aether, immensely powerful yet intricately controlled, transformed into a spectral radiance of varied hues, infusing the giant’s form.

Dragon scale protection, lightning speed, titan’s onslaught, blood ignition, all-or-nothing… A total of thirteen status spells overlapped, empowering Fernando. A specialized technique caused these spells to resonate, amplifying their potency.

The armored giant roared, his form swelling to a staggering seven meters. His war hammer grew to the size of a small building. Grinning malevolently, he charged into the legion of reanimated corpses. The gale from his hammer swing alone shredded the undead to pieces. He moved like a tempest, clearing everything within a fifty-meter radius, pulverizing even the solid earth beneath.

In mere moments, he was poised to decimate the entire undead army, ravaging all in his path without restraint.

Yet the necromancer, concealed among the dead, spoke dispassionately: “I gave you, fair warning.”

His legion was being obliterated at a rate of hundreds per second. Though corpses continually replenished the battlefield, the necromancer showed no sign of panic. Fernando, reveling in the thrill of effortless destruction at the army’s center, grew increasingly frantic. He roared in fury, “Gravelight! You gutless, inhuman wretch! Show yourself!”

No one answered him. Or rather… the gray tornado that suddenly whirled up from the ground was answer enough.

The world, even many extraordinary beings, often misunderstood necromancers, believing their power stemmed from stronger undead. But upon reflection, this notion was absurdly laughable—nothing was more foolish than pinning hope on the deceased.

The source of a necromancer’s power could only be… death itself.

The distilled essence of death, extracted from the summoned corpses. After all, these bodies were merely raw materials to them, never the actual source of their strength.

Endless gray death essence gathered at a terrifying pace, forming a visible cyclone. Fernando found himself at its center. This was no natural storm; there was no calm eye at its core.

Fernando’s heavy armor emitted a pale cyan glow, somewhat mitigating the corrosion of the gray death essence. However, it couldn’t completely prevent death’s power from seeping into his flesh. Parts of his massive body beneath the armor had begun to turn a putrid blue-gray, akin to decay. His blood vessels, once coursing with scalding blood, started to shrivel along with his muscles.

Every wisp of air in this death storm was deadlier than any blade, corroding the flesh of its victims without need for cutting or piercing.

With tens or even hundreds of thousands of pure death essences at his disposal on this battlefield, it was no wonder Gravelight was so confident.

Controlling the death storm to ensnare and destroy Fernando, Gravelight spoke again: “Now, stand down. We can still negotiate, the matter of, exploration.”

“Die… you… bastard!”

Fernando bellowed. The violent sound waves reduced nearby low-tier adventurers to pieces, and even in the distant Red Valley City, the impact of his roar could be felt. The protective barrier Ansel had set up even flickered momentarily.

Unable to break free from the storm, Fernando raised his war hammer high above his head, arching his back to an extreme degree. Fighting against the death essence’s corrosion, he forcibly channeled his blood energy, suffusing his entire body with power. His fragile blood vessels instantly ruptured.

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Blood gushed from the crazed man’s facial orifices, but the terrifying might had already concentrated in his building-sized war hammer. And then… it came crashing down!

In that instant, everything seemed to freeze.

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