A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

The fifth-stage warrior’s unadulterated physical might struck the immutable earth with unrestrained fury, unleashing a shockwave more terrifying than any tempest. This cataclysmic force shattered the deathly miasma that had ensnared him, spawning countless fissures that serpentined for hundreds, if not thousands, of meters, nearly reaching the distant Red Valley City.

The ground then ruptured with such dramatic intensity that the resultant cacophony, akin to mountains crumbling, seemed but a whisper in comparison to the initial impact.

Fernando’s single hammer blow transformed nearly two thousand meters of terrain into an immense crater littered with stone debris.

“Hah… hah…”

Fernando expectorated a bloody spittle, his breath ragged. Wary of potential counterattacks and opportunistic interlopers, he had restrained his full might, yet his current condition was far from optimal.

“Damn it all…” the man growled, removing his arm guard and glowering at his atrophying, seemingly malformed limb. “Accursed necromancer, what a nuisance. If this doesn’t unveil a dynastic relic, it’ll be a damned waste.”

“If you knew, why did you, squander time?”

Gravelight’s voice suddenly resonated from the depths of the crater. Fernando’s expression shifted as he tightened his grip on the war hammer. “You abominable half-dead thing… You still have strength left?”

“As, do you, Fernando. However…”

Although Fernando’s hammer strike had obliterated nearly all corpses on the battlefield and imbued it with potent anti-magic properties, theoretically preventing Gravelight from absorbing death essence at will, an endless tide of miasma still surged skyward, gradually delineating a spectral figure easily a hundred meters tall, draped in a cloak!

Gravelight, having amassed sufficient death essence before Fernando’s assault, spoke slowly: “Alas, my remaining power, surpasses yours.”

In the specter’s grasp materialized a scythe at least twice the length of its hundred-meter form, its terrifying visage clearly visible even from Red Valley City.

The airborne shadow of death raised its scythe high, while the still-unseen Gravelight intoned in a hoarse, dispassionate voice: “The third time, and, the last.”

Should that scythe descend, it would likely claim the lives of two-thirds of a major city’s population instantly.

“…” Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire

Fernando gazed up at the colossal scythe, silent for a moment before gradually shrinking to about three meters in height. Gravelight, in turn, ceased its assault on his body, magnanimously withdrawing the death essence.

Adventurers, particularly those of their caliber, shared an unspoken understanding about many things.

For instance, unless bound by an irreconcilable blood feud, they would avoid lethal force in most conflicts, especially during explorations and adventures.

Gravelight, as a formidable combatant, held a significant advantage in specific situations like the present. However, upon entering the enigmas, it would be at the mercy of warriors. Conversely, while warriors might find their methods somewhat lacking in this plane, their adaptability would shine brilliantly in the chaotic enigma realm.

For the sake of future expeditions, there was no need to cultivate enmity here.

Fernando departed wordlessly, turning towards Red Valley City, his acquiescence tacitly acknowledging Gravelight’s current superiority and conceding the primary exploration rights of this realm of confusion to Crow’s Nest.

Glutton, a top-tier guild on par with Crow’s Nest, Whistling Legion, and the Executioners, had yielded. Their retreat had all but decided the outcome of this contest. In the distance, Crow’s Nest adventurers were already jubilant, though Gravelight remained vigilant, the colossal cloaked specter and its even more enormous scythe still hovering midair.

If his conjecture was correct, that legendary figure should now be…

“Faust! Is that Faust?”

The spectators’ exclamations answered Gravelight’s unspoken question.

Descending from above, a dark-haired adventurer approached, his image now deeply ingrained in people’s minds.

Three years ago, Faust never revealed his true visage, his countenance perpetually shrouded in darkness. The only distinguishing feature was the terrifyingly black blade at his waist.

No one knew why Faust had suddenly returned, nor why he no longer concealed himself. But after witnessing the bisected Dispute Fortress, none doubted Faust’s power.

“This realm of enigma,” he declared imperiously, gazing down at the well-hidden Gravelight, undetected even by Fernando, “is mine.”

Nearby, Fernando, in the midst of recuperating, let out a sardonic chuckle. The adventurers erupted in a chorus of exclamations, most finding the situation amusing.

“Is Faust really going to clash with Gravelight?”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be close with Valrhona?”

“Gravelight is Valrhona’s top enforcer, and this is his advantageous terrain. This’ll be quite a spectacle!”

While the adventurers reveled in the potential chaos, the subtle tremor in the massive spectral form betrayed Gravelight’s true feelings.

Before his departure, Valrhona, the leader of Crow’s Nest, had emphatically warned him countless times—never to provoke Faust.

Regardless of whether he appeared gloomy or cheerful, violent or peaceful, they were to avoid any conflict with him. If possible, they were to avoid any interaction at all.

Gravelight still remembered his leader’s meaningful words: “This is for your own good.”

He had thus far adhered to Valrhona’s instructions, showing no disrespect to Ansel. However, Gravelight believed that relinquishing the first exploration rights out of fear would be absurd.

Thus, he merely reiterated his previous words to Ansel: “Let us hope, it stops here.”

Then, as a show of respect, Gravelight unhesitatingly animated the spectral form in the sky. Harnessing the power of countless pure death essences from the battlefield, he directed a strike straight at Faust’s neck, attempting to reap his life with the most impartial force—death itself!

Ansel calmly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist.

In truth, he had no obligation to adhere to the so-called adventurer’s code. If he desired to plunder the treasures within the enigma’s portal, he could do so with impunity, using either his Hydral identity or Faust’s formidable power.

Yet, he chose to abide by the rules established by the adventurers. This decision stemmed not only from his habitual rule-following but also because… the countless adventurers of the Western Lands were potentially valuable pawns, their utilization already factored into Ansel’s grand design.

The sole complication was that Ansel had not deliberately concealed his strength on this journey. Facing a veteran necromancer and top-tier guild enforcer like Gravelight, it was inevitable that he might not be able to fully restrain himself. If he failed to control his power, it could potentially complicate the carefully crafted identity of Faust.

What method would be best to destroy that spectral form? Should he cleave it in two with a single sword strike, or perhaps—

As Ansel contemplated how to defeat Gravelight in a manner both stylish and not overly shocking, his expression suddenly changed.

Simultaneously, it wasn’t just Ansel’s countenance… that altered.

It was also the portal, which should have opened at noon today, some seven or eight hours hence.

All eyes, previously fixed on Faust, now shifted skyward, towards the “portal” that resembled a second, fierce sun.

It… had opened.

In the next instant, the blood-tinted firmament poured down a sea of fire.

*

Happy September guys!