Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

The night sky over Azure Cloud City was a canvas of deep indigo, illuminated not by the stars, but by the ambient glow of the massive anti-gravity arrays that kept the floating continent suspended above the churning ocean. The city never truly slept; the hum of commerce, the distant roar of beast-drawn carriages, and the faint, rhythmic pulse of thousands of cultivators circulating their Qi created a tapestry of noise that usually drowned out the subtle movements of the night.

However, atop a sloping roof of dark grey tiles, three figures crouched in absolute silence, blending perfectly with the shadows cast by the towering architectural marvels of the city. The wind at this altitude was brisk, carrying the scent of ozone and the damp salt of the sea below, but it did not rustle the robes of the man who knelt at the edge of the roof, his gaze fixed on the structure across the narrow alleyway.

Wang Jian remained motionless, his breathing so shallow it was imperceptible. To the naked eye, he was nothing more than a part of the roof itself, a statue carved from darkness. Flanking him were Hua Yimei and Chen Ying, both women suppressing their auras to the point where they appeared no different from mortals.

The target lay before them: The temporary residence of the Ice Heart Palace.

It was a grand pavilion constructed entirely of white spirit-wood, a rare material imported from the frozen northern tundras that naturally gathered and amplified Ice-attribute Qi. Even from this distance, a chilling aura radiated from the structure, causing frost to bloom on the cobblestones of the street below. It stood like a fortress of solitude amidst the warmth of the city, a clear declaration of the Ice Heart Palace’s aloof and arrogant nature.

’Beautiful,’ Wang Jian thought, his lips curling into a faint, predatory smirk. ’A pristine cage of ice, housing a flock of unaware birds.’

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, centering his spirit. When he opened them again, the ordinary dark brown of his irises had vanished. In their place was a consuming abyss, a pool of absolute blackness that seemed to swallow the ambient light. Within that darkness, tiny pinpricks of starlight rotated slowly, mimicking the movement of a galaxy.

Stellar Demonic Eyes.

The world transformed before his vision. The physical walls of the pavilion became translucent, replaced by the vibrant, flowing currents of spiritual energy. He saw the ley lines of the earth, the atmospheric Qi of the city, and most importantly, the complex, interlocking web of defensive formations that shrouded the Ice Heart Palace’s stronghold.

It was a magnificent display of defensive artistry. A dome of shimmering azure light encased the building, pulsating with a cold, rhythmic beat.

’The Four-Quadrant Glacial Barrier,’ Wang Jian analyzed, the information flowing freely from the recesses of his memory.

He recalled the detailed scrolls Yue Lingshan had shown him weeks ago, where she had meticulously cataloged the defensive capabilities of the major powers in the Myriad Reefs Sea Region to ensure his safety. She had described this formation with respect, calling it a masterpiece of the Ice Heart Palace’s legacy.

It was a Seventh Grade Formation, a defensive array of such potency that it corresponded to the power of a Late-Stage Core Formation Realm cultivator. It was not merely a wall; it was a complex system of four interlocking sub-formations representing the four cardinal directions, designed to freeze physical attacks, shatter spiritual intrusions, neutralize airborne poisons, and prevent any sound from leaking in or out. Even a Peak Core Formation Realm expert would find themselves exhausted trying to chip away at its outer shell, likely alerting the entire city long before they made a scratch.

’Impressive durability,’ Wang Jian mused, his Stellar Demonic Eyes dissecting the flow of Qi within the barrier. ’Solid. Unyielding. Just like that woman, Bing Yun.’

However, in the eyes of the Stellar Demon, nothing in this universe was truly flawless. The Laws of the Universe dictated that where there was rigidity, there was brittleness. Where there was a flow, there was a gap.

He watched the energy cycle through the barrier. The Qi flowed from the North node to the East, then South, then West, creating a perpetual cycle of reinforcement. But Wang Jian’s gaze narrowed, focusing on the minute transition points between the nodes.

’There,’ he thought.

Every three breaths, the polarity of the nodes shifted to prevent the accumulation of stagnant Qi. For a fraction of a microsecond—a window of time so small that a normal Divine Sense would gloss over it entirely—the barrier’s density dropped by a measurable percentage as the energy redirected itself. To a normal cultivator, this was invisible. To Wang Jian, whose soul was tempered by the Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture and who possessed insights into the fundamental laws of the cosmos, it was a gaping wound.

He withdrew his gaze, the starlight in his eyes dimming slightly but not fading. He turned his head slightly toward the two women behind him.

”The prey is sleeping in a fortress,” Wang Jian projected his voice directly into their minds, the telepathic transmission precise and undetectable. ”The Four-Quadrant Glacial Barrier is active. It is a turtle shell.”

Hua Yimei’s expression remained submissive, but her eyes held a question. She knew the reputation of this array.

”However,” Wang Jian continued, ”every shell has a crack. I have found the rhythm of their breathing. But to enter without alerting the entire city, we must first blind the world.”

He gestured with his chin toward the street below, indicating specific locations based on the geomancy of the surrounding architecture.

”Yimei, proceed to the ’Tiger’ position—the intersection of the western alley and the main conduit,” he instructed. ”Chen Ying, take the ’Dragon’ position at the eastern drainage point. These are the ley line nodes that stabilize the local space around this block.”

”Master,” Hua Yimei projected back, ”if we disturb the local nodes, will the City Lord’s monitoring array not sense it?”

”Not if you do not draw from them,” Wang Jian corrected. ”You are not there to gather Qi. You are there to act as anchors. I am about to deploy a formation that bends space and light. It requires immense stability at the perimeter to prevent the ambient Qi of Azure Cloud City from rippling against it. You will be the weights that hold the curtain down while I work inside.”

”Understood,” both women replied in unison.

”Go. Wait for my signal.”

The two women dissolved into the shadows, moving with the grace of high-level cultivators. Hua Yimei, despite her fire attribute, moved like smoke, while Chen Ying moved like a blade cutting through the wind—silent and sharp. Wang Jian watched them reach their positions. Hua Yimei stood in the shadow of a merchant’s stall to the west, and Chen Ying crouched behind a stone gargoyle to the east. They stopped their circulation, becoming statues.

Wang Jian turned his attention back to the task at hand. He waved his hand over his storage ring, and a set of seven formation flags appeared, floating in the air before him.

The flags were exquisite. Crafted from thousand-year-old Cloud-Silk, the fabric was white as snow, embroidered with intricate silver runes that seemed to shift and dance even when the air was still. The poles were made of Star-Sand Spirit Wood, durable and conductive to spiritual energy.

Wang Jian reached out and caressed the fabric of the nearest flag. A dark, amused smile played on his lips.

’Lingshan...’ he thought, picturing his wife’s focused, beautiful face as she had crafted these. ’You poured your heart into these, didn’t you? You told me these were for my protection. A defensive measure to hide me from enemies should I ever be pursued.’

These were the flags for the Seven-Star Obscurity Array. It was a high-grade Seventh Grade Array Formation, a masterpiece of concealment. In terms of pure defensive hardness, it was strong, but its true terrifying potential lay in its ability to deceive. Its concealment capabilities touched upon the realm of the Eighth Grade—a level usually reserved for Nascent Soul cultivators. It could twist light, sound, and spiritual sense, creating a pocket dimension that was virtually cut off from the main reality.

’You made this to keep me safe,’ Wang Jian thought, his fingers tracing a particularly complex rune designed to bend light rays. ’And tonight, I will use your love to imprison my enemies. Your righteousness paves the road for my sins, my dear wife.’

He closed his eyes and began to channel his spiritual energy into the flags.

The Stellar Demonic Qi in his dantian surged, flowing out through his fingertips. The pure, silver-white runes on the flags began to darken. Wang Jian wasn’t just activating the array; he was corrupting its intent. Yue Lingshan had designed it to be a shelter. Wang Jian was modifying the internal geometry to make it a cage. He injected a suppressing intent into the command node, altering the spatial lock parameters.

’No escape talismans,’ he thought, weaving the new instruction into the array’s matrix. ’No spatial tearing. Once this dome closes, the only way out is through me.’

The flags hummed, a low, dissonant vibration that only he could hear. They were ready.

He looked up at the sky. The moon was obscured by a passing cloud. The patrol guards—a group of four Foundation Establishment cultivators riding flying swords—were just turning the corner three blocks away, beginning their rotation to the northern sector.

’Now.’

”Time to take action,” Wang Jian whispered.

He flicked his wrist. The seven flags shot into the air, not randomly, but in a precise constellation mirroring the Big Dipper. They didn’t fly with the whistling sound of a projectile; they moved like fish swimming through water, silent and fluid.

Wang Jian’s hands blurred. He formed a dozen seals in the span of a single heartbeat.

”Merge.”

The seven flags reached their zeniths at the exact perimeter of the Ice Heart Pavilion’s territory. As per his calculations, they slotted perfectly into the blind spots of the city’s ambient Qi flow.

They dissolved.

There was no explosion of light. There was no thunderclap. The activation of the Seven-Star Obscurity Array was terrifyingly subtle. The air around the Ice Heart Pavilion shimmered, like heat rising from the pavement on a summer day, and then stabilized instantly.

To an observer on the street, absolutely nothing had changed. The pavilion still sat there. The guards at the gate (illusions generated by the array) still stood stoically. The lanterns still flickered. But in reality, the space occupied by the pavilion had been severed from the world.

Wang Jian felt the sudden, massive drain on his spiritual sea. Maintaining a formation of this grade was a feat that would drain a normal Core Formation cultivator dry in minutes. But Wang Jian’s foundation was a monstrosity. His spiritual sea was vast, dense, and churning with the power of the Stellar Scripture. He gritted his teeth, stabilizing the spatial distortion, feeding the array the power it craved.

From their positions at the Tiger and Dragon nodes, Hua Yimei and Chen Ying felt the shift. They immediately pressed their hands to the ground, pouring their own spiritual energy into the earth, grounding the vibrations caused by the spatial severance. Their role was crucial—they were the dampeners, ensuring that the ’weight’ of the pocket dimension didn’t crack the surrounding pavement or alert the city’s formations.

”The cage is set,” Wang Jian projected, his voice echoing in the minds of his subordinates. ”Now we enter.”

He stood up and stepped off the roof. He didn’t fall. He drifted, his body light as a feather, guided by the wind currents. He landed on the roof of the Ice Heart Pavilion, his boots touching the white tiles with zero impact.

Below him, inside the newly formed pocket dimension, the Four-Quadrant Glacial Barrier was still active, humming obliviously. The people inside had no idea that the sky above them had just been replaced by a false image, or that their connection to the outside world had been severed.

Wang Jian knelt on the tiles. He could feel the biting cold of the inner barrier just inches beneath the roof. Brute force here would be foolish. Even with the Seven-Star Obscurity Array blocking the sound, the explosion of a Seventh Grade barrier self-destructing would be too chaotic. It would alert Bing Yun instantly, giving her time to prepare or perhaps trigger a desperate suicide technique.

No, he needed to walk in the front door.

”Yimei, Chen Ying,” Wang Jian commanded. ”I am opening the path. Converge on my position.”

He watched as two shadows flickered from the street, leaping effortlessly over the illusionary walls of the Seven-Star Array and landing silently beside him on the roof. They looked at the shimmering blue dome of the Four-Quadrant Glacial Barrier beneath their feet with wary eyes.

”Master,” Chen Ying whispered, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. ”This barrier is dense. It rejects all foreign Qi.”

”It rejects foreign Qi,” Wang Jian corrected. ”So we will not be foreign.”

He placed his right palm flat against the shimmering blue energy shield. The cold was intense, enough to freeze flesh instantly, but Wang Jian’s skin glowed with a faint, metallic luster—the result of his Stellar Body Tempering.

He closed his eyes and engaged his Stellar Demonic Core. The black sphere in his dantian spun, and he drew upon the unique property of his Stellar Qi: adaptability. Stellar energy was the primordial soup, the origin of elements. It could devour, but it could also mimic.

He focused on the vibration of the ice barrier. He felt the sharp, crystalline structure of the Ice Qi, the rigid order, the specific frequency at which it repelled heat and intrusion.

’Adjust frequency,’ Wang Jian thought. ’Shift polarity to Yin. Mimic the resonance of the North Quadrant.’

His aura changed. The aggressive, devouring nature of his Stellar Qi receded, replaced by a cold, sharp, and biting energy. Frost began to form on his eyebrows. To any sensor, Wang Jian now felt like a block of thousand-year-old ice.

He pushed his Qi into the barrier. Instead of clashing, his energy mingled with it. He became a drop of water joining the ocean.

”Open,” he commanded softly.

Under his palm, the barrier rippled. The formations, tricked into believing that this influx of energy was a natural part of its circulation, allowed it to pass. Wang Jian manipulated the nodes, pushing them apart gently.

A hole began to melt in the shield. It wasn’t a jagged breach; it was a smooth, circular opening, widening silently like snow falling on a warm lake. The blue light parted, revealing the actual roof tiles of the pavilion beneath.

”Quickly,” Wang Jian signaled.

He dropped through the hole. Hua Yimei and Chen Ying followed instantly. As soon as they were through, Wang Jian withdrew his hand. The Four-Quadrant Glacial Barrier snapped shut above them, sealing them inside.

They were in.

They landed in the inner courtyard of the Ice Heart Pavilion. The temperature here was significantly lower than outside, a supernatural chill that sought to seep into the marrow of their bones. The courtyard was decorated with statues of ice and frozen ponds, reflecting the moonlight that managed to pierce through the array.

The silence was heavy.

Wang Jian raised a hand, signaling for absolute stillness. He expanded his perception, but carefully. He didn’t use a sweeping Divine Sense scan, which would be detected by the Core Formation Elders. Instead, he used the passive listening ability of the Stellar Scripture, sensing the rhythmic thumping of hearts and the flow of blood.

’Twenty-three signatures,’ Wang Jian counted. ’Three powerful sources on the top floor—Core Formation. Twenty scattered in the east and west wings—Foundation Establishment.’

He turned to his companions, his voice barely a breath. ”The disciples are meditating in the side wings. We cannot have them raising an alarm when we engage the Elders.”

Wang Jian reached into his robes and produced a small, unassuming jade bottle. It was sealed with a wax stopper stamped with a crimson lotus.

Drunken Lotus Slumber.

He looked at the bottle with a faint smirk. Liu Ruyan had outdone herself with this one. She had synthesized the pollen of the Midnight Dream Lotus with the venom of the Silent-Fang Snake. It was a colorless, odorless neurotoxin that didn’t attack the body; it attacked the connection between the spiritual sea and the waking mind. It dragged the victim into a deep, euphoric dream state from which it was nearly impossible to wake without an antidote or a massive shock to the soul.

”I want the disciples alive,” Wang Jian whispered, his eyes glinting with a dark possessiveness. ”Their Primal Yin is valuable. I do not want damaged goods. We put them to sleep.”

He moved silently toward the main ventilation array of the pavilion. The Ice Heart Palace, being obsessed with purity, had an intricate airflow system that circulated fresh, cold air from the central ice garden to every room in the building.

Wang Jian knelt by the intake vent, a grate carved in the shape of a snowflake. He uncorked the bottle. A faint wisp of transparent vapor drifted out.

Using a gentle, controlled wind-attribute technique, Wang Jian guided the vapor into the vent. He didn’t force it; he let the natural suction of the array pull it in.

”Circulate,” he murmured, pouring more Stellar Qi into the wind to carry the poison deep into the corridors.

He stood up, watching the invisible death spread.

”Give it ten breaths,” Wang Jian whispered to Hua Yimei, whose face was flushed with a mixture of excitement and tension. ”The Early and Mid-stage Foundation Establishment disciples will fall first. Their spiritual seas are too shallow to resist the pull of the dream.”

He closed his eyes, counting the heartbeats he could sense in the wings.

One... two... three...

The rhythmic breathing of the disciples in the East Wing began to change. It deepened, slowing down significantly. The sharp, disciplined aura of cultivating cultivators softened into the lethargic fuzziness of sleep.

’Five down,’ Wang Jian counted. ’Ten... fifteen...’

The poison was potent. It swept through the lower ranks like a scythe.

Suddenly, Wang Jian’s eyes snapped open. He looked toward the West Wing.

Two signatures had flared up. Their heartbeats spiked. These were the Peak Foundation Establishment disciples—the elites. Their spiritual senses were sharp enough to detect the sudden drowsiness as an attack.

’Resisting?’ Wang Jian sneered internally. ’Futile.’

”Go,” Wang Jian commanded Chen Ying, pointing toward the West Wing shadows. ”Silence them. Do not kill. Use the suppression talismans.”

Chen Ying didn’t ask questions. She became a blur of motion, dashing toward the corridor leading to the West Wing. She didn’t draw her sword; instead, her hand flashed to her belt, retrieving heavy, blunt talismans inscribed with the character for ’Mountain’. She moved with the intent of a predator who knew exactly how to subdue prey without drawing blood.

Wang Jian turned his attention to the remaining layout. The poison would not affect the Core Formation Elders on the top floor; their dantians were too powerful, their bodies too refined. They would sense the disturbance in the airflow soon.

”Yimei,” Wang Jian said, his voice low and commanding. ”You take the South corridor. Ensure no stragglers escape the dormitories. If anyone wakes up, put them back to sleep. Permanently, if necessary, but try to preserve them.”

”Yes, Master,” Hua Yimei bowed, her eyes glowing with the anticipation of violence. She turned and slipped away toward the southern wing, her movements eerily silent for a fire cultivator.

Wang Jian was left alone in the center of the courtyard. He looked up at the main pagoda, at the windows of the top floor where the chilling aura of Bing Yun resided.

He snapped his folding fan open, the sound crisp in the silent night. He adjusted his robes, smoothing out invisible wrinkles.

’The small fry are being netted,’ he thought, taking a step toward the main entrance. ’Now for the prize catch.’

He began to walk toward the grand staircase, his steps deliberate and unhurried. Above him, he could sense the agitation of three powerful auras. They had realized something was wrong. The silence of the disciples was too absolute.

Wang Jian smiled, a cold, cruel expression that didn’t reach his eyes. The hunt had officially begun.