Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

The rusted iron plates of the basin floor tore apart with the deafening shriek of collapsing metal. Gravity seized the combatants, dragging them violently into the pitch-black abyss below. The air rushed past, thick with the abrasive scent of ancient oxidation and stale blood.

Wang Jian did not panic. As the ground gave way beneath his boots, his abyssal eyes tracked the descending figures in the darkness. He had no intention of allowing the chaotic fall to separate him from his prizes. He forcibly circulated his Stellar Demonic Qi, bypassing the restrictive ambient pressure of the island. He did not attempt to fly; fighting the downward pull would only drain his reserves and alert the others to his true strength. Instead, he projected thick, invisible threads of Demonic Qi outward like a grasping net.

He caught Lin Wanyue by her narrow waist, pulling her exceptionally curvy, heavy frame flush against his side. His threads simultaneously snagged Mu Lianhua, Shen Mengqi, Hua Yimei, and Shangguan Wan’er, drawing all five women into a tight, controlled cluster. With a precise manipulation of spatial friction, Wang Jian angled their descent away from the plummeting forms of Hai Kuo and the Azure Blood Sect cultivators, guiding his group toward a separate, jagged fissure in the lower cliff wall.

They struck the ground. Wang Jian bent his knees, his heavy boots denting the solid iron floor as he perfectly absorbed the downward momentum for all six of them. The physical impact sent a dull ache through his calves, but his tempered flesh held firm.

Lin Wanyue stumbled against his chest, her massive breasts squishing heavily against his dark robes. She gasped for air, her hands clutching his arms for stability. ”My husband...” she breathed, turning her head to stare into the absolute darkness of the massive cavern beyond their landing point. ”He fell into the main trench. We are separated.”

”Your husband is a Peak Core Formation expert,” Wang Jian replied, his voice a smooth, cold rumble that carried no sympathy. He released her waist, his hand deliberately brushing the swell of her plump buttocks before pulling away. ”He will survive a simple drop. We have our own path to navigate.”

Shangguan Wan’er stepped forward, her pale blue eyes scanning the narrow, rusted iron corridor they had landed in. ”The ambient spiritual pressure here is entirely different. The arrays are isolated. We have fallen into the outer maintenance veins of the True Monarch’s tomb.”

Miles away, in the deepest, widest section of the sunken abyss, City Lord Hai Kuo slammed into the ground. He drove the butt of his Deep-Sea Heavy Trident into the metal floor, using the leverage to arrest his fall. A shower of sparks illuminated the darkness as Daoist Luo Cheng landed heavily beside him, his bronze skin ringing like a struck bell upon impact.

Before Hai Kuo could even assess his surroundings, a crescent blade of corrosive blood-qi carved through the darkness, aiming directly for his neck.

Hai Kuo raised his trident, blocking the strike. The collision sent a violent acoustic shockwave echoing down the massive hallway.

Daoist Xue Ren stepped into the dim light of Hai Kuo’s defensive aura, his massive scythe dripping with crimson energy. Behind him landed Xue Hai and Xue Li, their daggers and broadswords drawn, their eyes burning with lethal intent.

”The fall did not break your neck, City Lord,” Xue Ren sneered, his gaunt face twisting into a cruel mask. ”Allow me to finish the job.”

”You overstep your boundaries, Blood-Scythe,” Hai Kuo roared, his remaining patience completely evaporating.

Hai Kuo lunged forward, his trident coated in freezing, heavily pressurized water-qi. He thrust the three prongs directly at Xue Ren’s chest. Xue Ren swung his scythe downward, attempting to hook the weapon, but Luo Cheng stepped into the gap. The bronze-skinned cultivator threw a devastating punch, his fist colliding with Xue Li’s broadsword. The sheer weight of the blow shattered the blade’s edge, forcing the blood-cultivator to slide backward.

Xue Hai darted around the clash, his twin daggers aiming for the joints in Hai Kuo’s armor. Hai Kuo spun his trident, the heavy shaft slamming into Xue Hai’s ribs. The impact cracked bone, sending Xue Hai crashing violently into the rusted iron wall of the corridor.

The moment Xue Hai’s body struck the metal paneling, a dormant, ancient runic seal flared with blinding, sickly yellow light.

”You fool!” Hai Kuo bellowed, instantly recognizing the shifting array matrix. ”You struck a structural trigger!”

The iron walls on both sides of the massive corridor groaned. Dozens of heavy metal grates slid open near the ceiling. A thick, boiling torrent of Searing Silver-Liquid poured from the vents. It was a terrifyingly heavy, alchemically refined molten metal that possessed a thermal output capable of melting through Core Formation defensive barriers in seconds.

The liquid silver hit the floor, instantly incinerating the stray iron debris. The heat dispersion was catastrophic. The air in the corridor superheated, searing the lungs of the five cultivators and severely draining the oxygen.

”Move!” Luo Cheng yelled, his bronze skin already glowing red-hot from the ambient temperature.

The combatants abandoned their duel instantly. The rising tide of boiling silver rushed down the corridor, devouring everything in its path. Hai Kuo, Luo Cheng, Xue Ren, Xue Hai, and Xue Li sprinted shoulder-to-shoulder, their legs pumping frantically to outrun the environmental execution.

They tore down the hallway, taking a sharp turn into a raised, circular antechamber. They scrambled up the stone steps just as the Searing Silver-Liquid flooded past the entrance, pooling heavily at the base of the stairs but unable to reach their elevated sanctuary.

Hai Kuo leaned heavily on his trident, his chest heaving as he stared at the flowing molten metal. He looked across the antechamber at Xue Ren, who was coughing violently, his red robes singed at the edges.

”If we continue to cross blades blindly in these halls, the True Monarch’s traps will claim us before we ever see the legacy,” Hai Kuo stated, his voice harsh and pragmatic.

Xue Ren wiped a streak of soot from his mouth, his eyes narrowing. ”You suggest a truce, City Lord?”

”A temporary cessation of hostilities,” Hai Kuo corrected coldly. ”We do not attack each other in these outer veins. Whatever treasures or herbs we encounter on the path are left to fate and individual speed. Once we reach the central burial chamber, the agreement is void.”

Xue Ren looked at his two injured sect brothers, then back to the imposing figures of Hai Kuo and Luo Cheng. ”Agreed. We save our blood for the final prize.”

Neither man offered a blood-oath or a spiritual contract. They were seasoned, ruthless survivors; they knew the truce would only hold as long as the environmental threats outweighed the immediate benefits of betrayal.

Far removed from the rising tide of molten silver, Wang Jian led his five women through a narrow, winding corridor of rusted iron.

Hua Yimei held a glowing illumination pearl, casting long, swaying shadows across the walls. Shen Mengqi walked with her Breeze Sword drawn, her sapphire eyes continuously scanning the darkness for movement.

Wang Jian’s Divine Sense swept outward, analyzing the dense, overlapping array nodes hidden beneath the metal plating. He recognized dozens of lethal traps—pressure plates that would trigger piercing arrays, spiritual tripwires that would unleash corrosive mist. He possessed the exact knowledge to disarm every single one of them. Mu Lianhua, Shangguan Wan’er, and Hua Yimei, possessing deep foundations and exceptional flames, could also easily bypass or destroy the mechanisms if given the order.

But Wang Jian had absolutely no intention of making this journey safe.

He walked purposefully, deliberately altering his stride to ensure his heavy boot landed squarely upon a slightly elevated, rust-covered tile.

CLACK.

The sound echoed loudly down the corridor.

”Master, the floor shifted!” Shangguan Wan’er warned, instantly raising her Celestial-Tide Abacus.

Before any of the women could react, two massive, foot-thick slabs of solid profound-iron slammed down from the ceiling, one twenty yards ahead of them, and one twenty yards behind. The heavy thud of the metal hitting the floor shook the corridor, completely sealing the six of them inside a confined, rectangular box.

”We are trapped,” Lin Wanyue gasped, raising her Azure Tides Heavenly Sword. She struck the iron door with a heavy, pressurized wave of water-qi, but the metal absorbed the blow without a single scratch. ”The material is too dense to shatter with raw force.”

A sharp, hissing sound emanated from the ceiling.

Dozens of small vents opened along the upper corners of the sealed room. A thick, billowing, pale blue mist began to aggressively vent into the chamber.

The temperature in the room plummeted with terrifying, unnatural speed. Frost instantly formed on the iron walls, creeping rapidly across the floor.

”It is an Absolute Zero Yin-Miasma,” Mu Lianhua identified immediately, her breath fogging heavily in the freezing air. ”It is an ancient, highly concentrated toxin designed to completely freeze a cultivator’s spiritual sea solid within minutes. It aggressively attacks active meridians.”

Lin Wanyue shivered violently, her elegant purple robes offering no protection against the bone-chilling cold. She felt the water-qi in her Dantian growing sluggish, threatening to solidify. ”Can you burn it away, Alchemist Mu? Your flames are profound.”

Mu Lianhua raised her hands, fully prepared to summon her Azure Sky-Heart Flame. The pure, high-tier fire would consume the Yin-Miasma effortlessly. She looked to Wang Jian for the command.

Wang Jian caught Mu Lianhua’s eye. He subtly shook his head, a dark, commanding glint in his gaze.

”Do not summon your flames, Lianhua,” Wang Jian ordered, his voice echoing loudly in the enclosed space. He turned to face the shivering City Lord’s wife. ”This room is a sealed, pressurized containment vessel. If you introduce an extreme source of high-tier heat into this concentrated freezing environment, the immediate thermal expansion will cause a catastrophic explosive reaction. The resulting pressure wave will crush us all into paste against these iron walls.”

Lin Wanyue’s eyes widened in horror. ”Then what do we do? My meridians are already stiffening. If we stay here, we will freeze to death.”

Wang Jian stepped forward, the freezing mist swirling around his boots. He projected an aura of grim, reluctant necessity, though internally, he was laughing at the sheer perfection of his manipulation. Shen Mengqi possessed the Heavenly Yin Divine Physique; the miasma would actually nourish her, not harm her. But she still showed a somber look to go along with what Wang Jian was saying.

”There is only one method to neutralize a concentrated Yin-Miasma without causing a thermal detonation,” Wang Jian stated, unfastening the heavy black sash of his robes. ”The extreme Yin must be perfectly, meticulously absorbed and balanced by an overwhelming source of extreme Yang.”

Lin Wanyue frowned, her teeth beginning to chatter. ”Balanced? How? We do not possess an absorbing artifact of that magnitude.”

”We do not need an artifact,” Wang Jian replied, letting his black robes fall to the freezing iron floor, standing completely naked in the center of the room. The intense, scorching heat of his Stellar Demonic Yang Qi radiated from his heavily muscled physique, fighting back the frost in an immediate radius around him. ”I possess the Heavenly Yang Divine Physique. My internal core is a furnace of pure Yang. But I cannot simply project it outward, or it will trigger the same thermal explosion as Lianhua’s flames.”

He reached out, grabbing Lin Wanyue by her shivering shoulders. He looked deeply into her panicked sapphire eyes.

”I must draw the Yin-Miasma directly into my own body to purify it,” Wang Jian explained smoothly. ”But to channel that sheer volume of toxic Yin safely, I require vessels. I need female cultivators to absorb the miasma through their open pathways, and explicitly transfer it to me through the deepest, most primal connection possible. Dual cultivation.”

Lin Wanyue’s breath hitched, a visible cloud of white vapor escaping her lips. ”You... you mean...”

”Strip,” Wang Jian commanded, his voice dropping into a dark, demanding growl. ”Unless you prefer to die an icy death in this place.”

Lin Wanyue stared at him, her mind a chaotic vortex of conflicting emotions. Her husband, Hai Kuo, was currently lost somewhere in this deadly labyrinth, likely fighting for his life, completely unaware that his wife was trapped in a sealed box with a demonic overlord demanding her body. The aristocratic pride within her screamed to refuse, to fight the cold until her last breath.

But as the freezing miasma seeped deeper into her skin, her limbs growing numb, the sheer, biological terror of death overrode her hesitation. Furthermore, the soul-mark seared into her primal essence actively throbbed, eagerly demanding the scorching heat of his cock to fight off the cold.

”You are a disgusting rascal,” Lin Wanyue whispered, her fingers trembling violently as she reached up to unfasten the collar of her purple silk gown. ”You use every single threat to force your way between my thighs.”

”I am saving your life, Wanyue,” Wang Jian mocked softly, stepping closer. ”Now take it off.”

Lin Wanyue let the purple silk fall to the frozen floor, followed swiftly by her undergarments. She stood completely naked, her exceptionally thick, voluptuous hourglass figure exposed to the biting cold. Her massive, heavy breasts shivered, the tight pink nipples contracting painfully in the freezing air. Her curvy, plump buttocks were covered in goosebumps, and her wide hips trembled uncontrollably.

Shen Mengqi did not hesitate. The Fairy of the Silver Gale shed her white robes instantly, stepping forward to stand beside Lin Wanyue. Her own massive breasts heaved, her midnight-black hair falling over her bare shoulders. Shangguan Wan’er, Hua Yimei, and Mu Lianhua quickly undressed as well, leaving the six of them completely bare in the center of the icy chamber.

Wang Jian sat down heavily on the freezing iron floor, crossing his muscular legs.

”Come here, both of you,” Wang Jian ordered, gesturing to Lin Wanyue and Shen Mengqi.

Lin Wanyue dropped to her knees, the cold metal biting into her skin. She crawled forward, entirely submitting to the physical necessity. Shen Mengqi mirrored her movement, her sapphire eyes burning with a mixture of intense lust and desperate reliance.

Wang Jian pulled Lin Wanyue roughly onto his right thigh, and Shen Mengqi onto his left. He positioned them so they were straddling him, their voluptuous bodies pressed tightly against his sides.

”Open your pathways,” Wang Jian instructed, his large hands aggressively grabbing Lin Wanyue’s massive right breast and Shen Mengqi’s heavy left breast. He squeezed the abundant, shivering flesh brutally, forcing their tight pink nipples to point outward. ”Draw the ambient miasma into your Dantians. Do not resist the cold. Let it flow directly into your wombs.”

Lin Wanyue squeezed her eyes shut, doing as she was told. She inhaled deeply, intentionally drawing the toxic blue mist into her meridians. The sensation was agonizing. It felt as though hundreds of tiny ice daggers were carving through her internal channels, congregating heavily in her pelvis.

”It burns,” Lin Wanyue whimpered, her body shuddering violently against him.

”I will provide the heat,” Wang Jian promised.

He didn’t waste time with gentle preparation. He grabbed Lin Wanyue’s thick hips and lifted her slightly, positioning his massive, rock-hard, scorching hot cock directly beneath her dripping pussy.

With a brutal downward pull, he impaled her deeply.

”AGHHH!” Lin Wanyue shrieked, her spine bowing backward, her long hair whipping through the freezing mist.

The contrast was absolute and mind-shattering. Her internal pathways were filled with the agonizing, freezing Absolute Zero Yin-Miasma, but the thick, massive shaft filling her tight core radiated the searing, boundless heat of his Stellar Demonic Yang Qi. The moment he breached her, the trapped Yin Qi in her womb rushed frantically toward his cock, violently siphoned into his body through the intense physical connection.

Wang Jian began to fuck her relentlessly, thrusting upward with devastating force.

”Ahhn! Yes! Master!” Lin Wanyue babbled, entirely losing her mind. The pain of the freezing miasma was instantly converted into profound, overwhelming sexual ecstasy as his Yang Qi purified her pathways.

She opened her eyes, looking down at his handsome, demonic face. Her husband was gone. Her life was entirely dependent on the man currently pounding her womb. She fully, completely submitted to her identity as his dedicated slut. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, explicitly grinding her massive breasts against his chest, her tight pussy greedily milking his thick shaft.

Wang Jian turned his attention to Shen Mengqi. The Fairy was shivering, her own body drawing in the miasma. Due to her Heavenly Yin Divine Physique, the cold wasn’t harming her, it was empowering her, but her conditioned mind believed she was freezing.

He pulled out of Lin Wanyue with a wet pop, a string of juices connecting them, and immediately thrust his hot cock directly into Shen Mengqi’s dripping entrance.

”Ahhhhh! Please! Fill me!” Shen Mengqi screamed, throwing her head back, her massive breasts bouncing wildly as he began to pound her on his left thigh.

He alternated between the two breathtaking women with ruthless efficiency. He fucked Lin Wanyue’s exceptionally thick, mature body until she sobbed with pleasure, her hands uselessly pushing against his chest as the heat flooded her. He pounded Shen Mengqi’s pristine, voluptuous figure, extracting the massive surges of pure Yin energy her physique generated from the miasma.

”You are nothing but greedy, dripping vessels for my cock,” Wang Jian trash-talked, his voice a dark, commanding roar in the enclosed chamber. He reached up, roughly pinching Lin Wanyue’s tight nipple while thrusting into Shen Mengqi. ”Your husband left you to freeze, Wanyue. Only my dick can keep you warm. You are a slut for my Yang essence.”

”I am! I am your slut! Ahhh! Fuck me!” Lin Wanyue wept openly, the degradation fueling her intense orgasms.

Shangguan Wan’er, Hua Yimei, and Mu Lianhua did not remain idle. They knelt around him on the freezing floor, actively drawing the miasma into their own bodies. They used their luscious mouths and soft hands to service his chest, his neck, and his heavy balls, acting as secondary conduits to cycle the toxic Qi into his purifying furnace.

For two hours, the sealed iron chamber was a localized vortex of extreme, raw eroticism and high-tier Qi circulation. The loud, wet slapping sounds of his pelvis colliding with their plump buttocks, mixed with their desperate, breathy moans, echoed continuously against the frosted walls.

Slowly, the pale blue mist in the room began to thin.

The astronomical volume of Absolute Zero Yin-Miasma was entirely, flawlessly absorbed by the five women, channeled through their dripping pussies and eager mouths directly into Wang Jian’s Heavenly Yang Divine Physique. He purified the toxic energy effortlessly, converting it into raw, potent fuel for his own advancing cultivation.

As the final wisps of freezing mist dissipated, the heavy iron slabs sealing the corridor groaned. With a loud clack, the mechanisms disengaged, and the slabs slowly lifted back into the ceiling.

Wang Jian drove his dick deeply into Lin Wanyue one final time, releasing a massive, scorching torrent of his thick semen directly into her purified womb.

She wailed, collapsing completely against his chest, her voluptuous body twitching with violent aftershocks.

Wang Jian stood up, effortlessly carrying her weight before setting her gently onto the floor. He retrieved his black robes, completely unfazed by the intense dual cultivation session.

”Dress yourselves,” Wang Jian ordered. ”The path is clear.”

Lin Wanyue scrambled to pull her purple silk robes back onto her exhausted, trembling body. She was entirely drenched in sweat, his semen leaking slowly from her wrecked pussy, her Dao Heart completely, permanently shattered into absolute submission.

They moved forward, leaving the deactivated trap room behind.

Shangguan Wan’er led the way, her abacus tracking the subtle shifts in the island’s spatial architecture. She navigated them through a series of narrow, twisting maintenance shafts, bypassing several more dormant array triggers.

”The structural resonance is changing, Master,” Shangguan Wan’er whispered, her pale blue eyes glowing. ”The walls here are lined with spirit-gathering jade. We are approaching a major convergence node.”

The narrow shaft opened abruptly into a small, elevated observation ledge.

Wang Jian stepped onto the ledge, looking out over the edge.

They had arrived directly above the central burial chamber of the True Monarch’s tomb. The chamber was colossal, supported by massive pillars of polished profound-iron. In the very center rested a towering, highly ornate Soul-Nourishing Jade Cauldron.

But Wang Jian’s eyes were not drawn to the treasure.

Standing on the floor of the massive chamber, looking battered, burned, and utterly exhausted, were City Lord Hai Kuo, Daoist Luo Cheng, and Daoist Xue Ren. The three men had apparently survived the traps of the outer labyrinth, maintaining their uneasy truce to reach the core.

However, they were not alone.

Coiled massively around the base of the jade cauldron, its scales shimmering with terrifying, erratic arcs of pure, destructive lightning, was the apex predator of Myriad Refinements Island.

The Silver-Horned Lightning Python.

The Peak Seventh-Grade beast raised its massive head, its silver horn crackling with lethal energy, its reptilian eyes locking onto the three trespassing cultivators with absolute, primeval fury.

Wang Jian pulled Lin Wanyue flush against his side, wrapping his strong arm around her waist, completely hiding them in the shadows of the ledge. He looked down at the impending slaughter, a dark, victorious smile spreading across his face.