A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 709 The Lost Demon and The Dark Witch - I

The Duke of Bloodust died, meeting a most gruesome end.

His soul was shredded to dust, his body torn asunder, leaving not a shred of possibility for resurrection.

The ritual that extracted life essence could not be gleaned from his obliterated soul, and his palace yielded no records of the ceremony.

In any other circumstance, the world's liberation from such a nefarious entity and the eradication of his cruel sorceries would be cause for jubilation.

Yet, the assembled fifth-stage extraordinary beings found no joy in this moment.

"Have all the rituals and spells been preserved?"

Ansel inquired calmly, gazing through the window of a modest wooden abode at the refugees crowding the citadel.

This hastily orchestrated "assassination," despite Ansel's best efforts, remained too unrefined. It wouldn't take long for many to detect anomalies and inconsistencies.

But fortunately, time was a luxury they no longer possessed.

The ink-black crow emerged from the shadows, responding softly, "All have been sealed, my lord."

"Excellent. Though undeniably dark arts, Venna should be able to develop something superior based on these foundations."

"Though... she may be reluctant to handle such matters."

The young Hydral unconsciously smiled, perhaps envisioning his friend's feigned reluctance masking her genuine enthusiasm.

Realizing he could still contemplate such trivialities and even find amusement in this tense moment, Ansel instinctively touched his lips.

He recognized... he was seeking solace and strength from those two girls.

Simultaneously eliminating Evora and other extraordinary beings within the realm enigmas of endless feasting flames... This plan represented the greatest gamble for Ansel, who had always strived to avoid pushing situations to such extremes.

Yet, despite the dire circumstances, his former self would never have betrayed such emotions. Now, he found himself experiencing a sense of dependence.

The crow, noticing Ansel's brief reverie, seemed to perceive something. Its beak twitched slightly, but it remained silent. Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire

"...Crow. Where are Venna and Seri now?"

"They're en route, my lord. Given Miss Seraphina's speed, they should arrive within ten minutes."

Ansel had deliberately chosen the citadel closest to the two girls. Given the spread of the blood flames, there were no other places left to rescue in the vicinity. They would inevitably come here for a brief respite.

Since the rift opened, they two had been working tirelessly, collaborating with Shadewell and Garden to save countless civilians. At least two-thirds of the refugees in this city were brought here by them.

"Next comes the task of persuading them to stay put..." Ansel shook his head ruefully. "You've certainly given me quite a surprise."

Though it seemed to be Odelia's sudden appearance, in reality, it could only be the work of fate.

While Seraphina had made breakthrough progress, in such a situation... let alone whether she could withstand the scorching blood flames, her personality alone would ensure her demise if battle were to break out.

Ravenna, being a vessel for countless Nidhoggurs, was inherently vulnerable to the blood flames. For God from the Machine to preserve itself in the endless sea of fire would drain Ansel's ether at an alarming rate, potentially becoming a burden.

During the confrontation with the Empress, even when she summoned calamitous fires capable of annihilating the imperial capital after being dragged down from sixth-stage divinity, it paled in comparison to the spectacle within the rift... Though this was partly due to her complete madness at the time, and the difference in power levels, it was enough to demonstrate the extreme danger within.

While this reasoning was sound, convincing them to allow him to face such peril alone was another matter entirely.@@@@

Crow bowed slightly: "Then, I shall go monitor the other extraordinary beings, my lord."

Nine rose slowly, her demeanor uncharacteristically domineering...

A stark contrast to her usual docility in Ansel's presence.

"What I wish to know is, did you anticipate Mr. Ansel's expectations and vision for the common folk?"

"I was somewhat slower than you," Crow replied placidly, unfazed by Nine's altered demeanor. "What are you driving at?"

"How much slower?"

Nine's lips curved into a slight smile. "After I had already set my plan in motion?"

"..."

The silence that ensued was palpable, yet Nine persisted, her obsidian eyes unfathomable.

"You've been at Mr.Ansel's side longer than I, and enjoy his trust more deeply. Even if you realized his vision later than I did, the gap couldn't have been substantial. So..."

"Before I transmuted that notion into tangible action," Nine's voice, hoarse and frigid, cut through the air, "why did you not choose to actualize Mr.Ansel's plan yourself?"

Crow could have easily deflected with excuses of more pressing duties or coordinating Shadewell's operations, but it knew the true nature of Nine's inquiry lay elsewhere.

"... So even you, the master of Shadewell, lacked such courage," Nine sighed, disappointment evident.

Then, unexpectedly, a smile bloomed on her face—one that the old Nine could never have produced, brimming with a manic energy.

"Now I can be certain," she murmured, hand pressed to her heart.

"This, indeed, is my true worth."

"... I don't know what's come over you, Nine," Crow responded, visibly unsettled, "but your current state is perilous."

"Perilous?" Nine cocked her head. "If memory serves, Lord Crow, your first words upon inducting me into Shadewell were..."

"['Shadewell exists for Lord Ansel, a gathering place for dangerous elements.'] Were they not?"

Crow regarded Nine for a long moment before shaking its head gently. "You know my meaning. If you insist on this path... then may fortune favor you."

As Crow dissolved into shadow, Nine remained unperturbed. She approached her desk, meticulously reviewing her notes.

Duke of Wyvern, Life Ritual, Red Frost territory, Great Cold Wave, God from the Machine, Regicide, Hydral Territory, Revolution...

Her notebook chronicled the most significant events and concepts since Ansel's ventures abroad, at least in Nine's estimation. She connected these incidents, annotating them carefully.

Now, this chain of events had reached "Salvation."

The girl's irrevocably altered, fathomless gaze drifted to the window, settling on the refugees supporting each other or simply collapsing by the roadside.

Salvation...

In her inhuman eyes, a sorrow so profound emerged that even the darkness couldn't conceal it.

Not for these refugees, but for one person alone.

"Forgive me, Lord Ansel."

"My awakening came... far too late."

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