Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

The heavy iron burial chamber was entirely consumed by the suffocating stench of scorched meat and boiling blood. The massive thermal explosion from City Lord Hai Kuo’s Eighth-Grade talisman had reduced the outer barricades into a glowing, viscous slag of molten metal. Puddles of liquid iron dripped from the ceiling, hissing as they struck the uneven floorboards, yet the absolute destructive heat had completely failed to penetrate the core of the room.

Behind the ruined, molten iron, the corpse of Daoist Xue Ren stood perfectly still.

The physical changes were gruesome and immediate. Thick, pitch-black veins bulged against the pale skin of the dead blood-cultivator’s neck and face, pulsating with a rhythmic, heavy thrum. The dark, ancient entity possessing the vessel was actively forcing its own Demonic Qi into the foreign internal channels, violently fusing its ancient power with the lingering remnants of Xue Ren’s blood-arts.

A thick, viscous fog began to exude from the pores of the corpse. It was a searing Black-Blood Miasma, radiating a terrifying, highly corrosive heat that caused the surrounding air to warp and distort. The ambient Spiritual Qi of the chamber hissed as it met the foul mist, reacting like water cast upon a blazing forge. The air itself grew heavy, actively stealing the breath from the lungs of every cultivator present.

”The fusion is stabilizing,” Hai Kuo shouted. His voice was rough, scraping against his parched throat as he breathed in the scorching air. He tightened his grip on his Deep-Sea Heavy Trident, his heavy iron boots rooting deeply into the floor to secure his physical stance. ”The entity is digesting the memories of the vessel and adapting to the body. Do not allow it to finish!”

Xue Hai and Xue Li did not need the City Lord’s command. The two remaining disciples of the Azure Blood Sect stared at the twisted, desecrated body of their leader. Their faces were pale, their hands trembling with a violent mixture of absolute grief and uncontrolled fury.

”You parasitic filth!” Xue Li roared. His voice cracked under the sheer emotional strain, his muscles taught. ”That is our Senior Brother! Release his body!”

”We will carve you out of him!” Xue Hai added, crossing his twin jagged daggers in front of his chest, lowering his stance to prepare for a rapid sprint.

The possessed corpse slowly turned its head. The eyes were entirely black, devoid of any white, glowing with a deep, ancient malice. The entity raised its hands, flexing the stolen fingers, deliberately testing the articulation of the joints and the stretching of the sinews.

”This vessel...” the spirit spoke, using Xue Ren’s vocal cords. The voice was severely distorted, layered with a harsh, grating resonance that physically vibrated the eardrums of everyone in the chamber, threatening to draw blood. ”The foundation is remarkably crude. The blood-arts are primitive. However, the raw vitality will serve to anchor my presence in this era.”

”Die!” Xue Li bellowed, entirely abandoning his defensive posture.

The broadsword-wielding cultivator charged forward. He channeled the absolute maximum output of his remaining Qi, entirely ignoring the severe physical strain tearing at his shoulder muscles. He leaped over a puddle of molten iron, shifting his weight mid-air, bringing his heavy blade down in a devastating, vertical chop.

”Azure Blood Severing Arts: Crimson Mountain Cleave!” Xue Li chanted.

The heavy broadsword carried the physical weight of a falling boulder, the sharp steel coated in thick, corrosive red energy. The downward momentum displaced the heavy air, emitting a loud shriek.

The possessed Xue Ren did not dodge. The entity merely raised its right arm, entirely unarmored, directly into the path of the descending weapon.

The collision produced a deafening, metallic screech that sent violent acoustic shockwaves bouncing off the iron walls.

Xue Li’s eyes widened in sheer horror. His heavy broadsword did not cleave through muscle and bone. Instead, the sharp steel struck the spirit’s forearm and stopped dead. The physical recoil was catastrophic. The immense, transferred momentum shot directly back up the shaft of the weapon. Xue Li’s wrists cracked loudly, the bones fracturing under the sudden, massive stress. His hands opened involuntarily, dropping the broadsword to the iron floor with a heavy clang.

”The solidity of the muscle has been completely altered,” Luo Cheng observed from the flank, his bronze skin humming as he analyzed the physical mechanics of the clash. ”The Demonic Qi has forged the arm into something harder than raw steel. The physical weight is immense.”

The ancient spirit did not pause to allow recovery. It stepped forward, moving smoothly inside Xue Li’s shattered guard. The entity drove its open palm directly into the center of Xue Li’s chest.

The heavy impact crushed Xue Li’s ribcage inward, the bone fragments instantly piercing his lungs. The blood-cultivator gasped, a thick mouthful of dark red liquid escaping his lips, but the physical force did not throw him backward. Instead, the spirit’s fingers pierced straight through the skin and muscle, burying deep into Xue Li’s chest cavity, anchoring him in place.

”Brother!” Xue Hai screamed, launching himself forward, his boots scraping wildly against the iron as he thrust his twin daggers.

Before Xue Hai could cross the remaining distance, the Black-Blood Miasma surrounding the spirit surged outward violently. The dark fog entirely enveloped Xue Li’s thrashing body.

A horrifying, wet tearing sound echoed through the chamber. The spirit engaged a forbidden, ancient blood-draining art. Through the physical connection of its buried fingers, it violently, forcibly extracted the raw vital essence and liquid directly from Xue Li’s internal pathways.

Xue Li’s desperate thrashing ceased instantly. His skin lost all color, turning a sickly, ashen grey. His muscles withered rapidly, shrinking against his bones as his bodily fluids and Spiritual Qi were entirely siphoned away in the span of three short breaths.

The severe, blistering burns covering the left side of Xue Ren’s stolen body—inflicted by Hai Kuo’s earlier talisman strike—began to knit together rapidly. The charred meat peeled away, replaced by fresh, pale skin fueled entirely by the stolen vitality.

The spirit casually tossed Xue Li’s desiccated, husked corpse to the side. The dry body hit the iron floor with a hollow thud, shattering like brittle clay upon impact, sending grey dust scattering across the molten slag.

”No!” Xue Hai shrieked, his mind completely breaking at the sight of his brother’s instantaneous death.

He lunged wildly, completely off-balance, thrusting both daggers toward the spirit’s exposed throat.

The entity merely shifted its stance, pivoting smoothly on its heel to displace its weight. It caught Xue Hai’s right wrist with its left hand. The grip was inescapable, possessing the crushing pressure of a heavy iron vise. The spirit twisted its wrist sharply. The sickening sound of snapping tendons and dislocated joints echoed loudly over the hiss of the flames. Xue Hai dropped his dagger, crying out in raw physical agony.

”Your grief makes your strikes predictable and sloppy,” the spirit mocked, its black eyes locking onto the weeping assassin.

The entity drove its knee upward, burying it deep into Xue Hai’s abdomen. The raw physical force ruptured the assassin’s internal organs instantly. As Xue Hai folded forward, coughing heavily, the spirit grabbed him by the throat, lifting him entirely off the floor by his neck.

The Black-Blood Miasma surged again. The second blood-draining process was even faster than the first. Xue Hai kicked his legs weakly for a single second before his body shriveled, his primal essence entirely absorbed to fortify the newly claimed vessel.

The spirit dropped the second husk, rolling its neck until the vertebrae popped loudly.

”The physical foundation is repaired,” the entity stated, turning its terrifying gaze toward the remaining group. ”Now, I require the rest of your vitality to refine the inner core.”

Hai Kuo tightened his grip on his heavy trident, his weathered face grim and pale. Two Core Formation experts had been slaughtered and completely drained in less than a single minute. The physical disparity between their cultivation and the ancient entity was overwhelming.

”Luo Cheng! Form the vanguard!” Hai Kuo commanded, his voice ringing with absolute urgency. ”We cannot allow it to close the distance and initiate physical contact! The mist acts as an extension of its draining arts!”

”I will anchor the front,” Luo Cheng grunted. The massive cultivator circulated his remaining Qi, his skin returning to a blinding, polished bronze hue. He stepped forward, planting his heavy boots wide, raising his large gauntlets to protect his vital organs.

Hai Kuo turned his head slightly, addressing the women standing in a defensive cluster near the rear of the chamber.

”Support the vanguard!” Hai Kuo ordered. ”Do not hold back your reserves! If that entity breaks our line, we all die in this chamber!”

Wang Jian stood just behind Mu Lianhua, projecting the flawless image of a thoroughly exhausted, terrified array-tuner. He kept his breathing shallow, his shoulders hunched, his hands trembling slightly. Internally, his cold, abyssal eyes rapidly calculated the exact distance, the heavy physical volume of the miasma, and the shifting weight of the spirit’s footwork.

He seamlessly projected a thought through his Divine Sense directly into the minds of Shangguan Wan’er, Hua Yimei, Shen Mengqi, and Mu Lianhua.

’Engage the entity,’ Wang Jian commanded. ’But completely restrict your heavy output. Utilize wide, flashy techniques that entirely lack concentrated piercing force. Burn bright, but strike weak. We must force the City Lord and Daoist Luo Cheng to absorb the brunt of the spirit’s physical retaliation.’

The four women received the order instantly. Their loyalties lay entirely with the demonic overlord orchestrating the battlefield from the shadows.

”We stand with you, City Lord!” Shangguan Wan’er called out, her voice clear, masking her true intent flawlessly.

She stepped forward, raising her Celestial-Tide Abacus. Her long fingers slid rapidly across the water-pearl beads, calculating the elemental flow.

”Tidal Wall: Crashing Wave Assault!” Shangguan Wan’er chanted.

A massive, towering wall of heavy, dark water erupted from the iron floorboards, rushing forward toward the possessed corpse. It appeared visually devastating, carrying immense physical size. However, pursuant to Wang Jian’s directive, she deliberately lowered the internal pressurization of the water-qi, leaving the center of the wave completely hollow.

The spirit did not dodge. It rooted its back foot and punched directly into the incoming wave.

The Black-Blood Miasma cloaking its fist reacted violently with the water. The corrosive energy instantly boiled the liquid, generating a massive, hissing cloud of scalding steam that filled the center of the chamber, blinding the line of sight. The heavy wave shattered into a harmless, scattered downpour, completely failing to move the entity a single inch backward.

”The physical weight of the water is lacking!” Luo Cheng yelled, squinting through the dense, scalding steam. ”Focus the pressure to break its footing!”

”I am trying!” Shangguan Wan’er replied, feigning intense physical strain, heavily panting, though her pale blue eyes remained completely calm and observant.

Mu Lianhua stepped beside her, summoning her Emerald Lotus Flame. She slammed her palms together, sending a wide, sweeping arc of green fire roaring into the steam.

”Blooming Inferno!” Mu Lianhua shouted.

The flames looked spectacular, illuminating the entire chamber with a brilliant, blinding emerald hue. The thermal heat dispersion was massive, scorching the rusted iron pillars along the walls. But she intentionally spread the fire over a wide area rather than concentrating the heat into a piercing beam.

The spirit stepped entirely through the flames. The Black-Blood Miasma hissed and popped, serving as a flawless thermal insulator against the broad attack. The entity emerged completely unscathed, its dark red robes only slightly singed at the edges.

”Your fire is grand, but entirely dull,” the spirit mocked, raising its bare hands. ”Allow me to demonstrate true concentration.”

The entity gathered a massive volume of the dark mist between its palms. The corrosive fog condensed rapidly, forming a highly pressurized, heavy sphere of black liquid.

The spirit twisted its torso, shifting its weight forward, and hurled the sphere directly toward Luo Cheng.

”Brace!” Hai Kuo warned, thrusting his heavy trident forward to send a blast of freezing water-qi to intercept the projectile.

Wang Jian’s eyes tracked the heavy black sphere. He sent a sharp thought to Shangguan Wan’er.

’Shift the interception angle.’

Shangguan Wan’er reacted flawlessly. She erected a slanted, angled barrier of heavy water directly in the path of the incoming black blast.

The black liquid sphere collided with the water barrier. Instead of absorbing the heavy impact directly, the specifically slanted surface of the water shield splintered the attack. The heavy, corrosive liquid bounced off the angle, violently redirecting the entire mass of the blast directly onto Daoist Luo Cheng’s exposed right flank.

”Argh!” Luo Cheng roared in sudden, blinding agony.

The black liquid splashed heavily against his bronze skin. The corrosive properties of the fused Demonic Qi and blood-arts were terrifying. The liquid clung to his metallic body, sizzling and smoking violently. The physical tempering of his Profound Vajra Flesh Art began to melt, the top layer of his skin turning black and bubbling under the extreme chemical heat, exposing the raw, red muscle beneath.

”My barrier slipped!” Shangguan Wan’er cried out, injecting genuine panic into her voice, deliberately stumbling backward. ”The physical force was too heavy!”

”Hold the line!” Hai Kuo shouted, stepping forward to cover Luo Cheng’s painful retreat. The City Lord swung his Deep-Sea Heavy Trident in a massive vertical arc, utilizing the entire weight of his body to bring the heavy iron prongs crashing down toward the spirit’s head.

The entity calmly raised its right arm, catching the heavy trident directly on its bare forearm.

CLANG!

The iron floor buckled deeply beneath the spirit’s boots, the metal groaning loudly under the transferred weight of the strike. Hai Kuo’s arms trembled violently, his shoulder muscles straining as he tried to force the heavy weapon down. The spirit merely held the trident in place, its black eyes locking onto the struggling City Lord.

”You rely entirely on the power of your magical treasure,” the spirit stated, its voice grating like grinding stones. ”Your own physical body is crumbling.”

The spirit punched outward with its free hand, driving a heavy, mist-coated fist directly into the center of Hai Kuo’s chest plate.

The physical impact lifted the City Lord entirely off his feet. Hai Kuo flew backward, his heavy armor denting severely under the localized weight of the strike. He crashed into a rusted iron pillar, the violent collision leaving a deep indentation in the metal. Hai Kuo slumped forward, coughing heavily, struggling to draw air into his bruised lungs as his vision swam.

Lin Wanyue watched her husband fall. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. She gripped her Azure Tides Heavenly Sword with both hands, her massive breasts heaving heavily under her silk robes. Her body was thoroughly exhausted, her thighs burning from the lingering soreness of the previous night’s relentless subjugation. Her womb still felt heavy with Wang Jian’s seed, a constant, physical reminder of her complete breaking.

She stepped forward, prepared to unleash her remaining water-qi to cover her husband’s recovery, ignoring the pain in her lower abdomen.

”Do not act rashly, Wanyue!” Hai Kuo grunted, using the shaft of his trident to push himself back up to his feet, his arms shaking. ”Maintain distance!”

Hua Yimei dragged her long fingers across the strings of her Crimson Phoenix Zither, unleashing a rapid barrage of sharp, invisible sonic blades. The acoustic waves struck the spirit, vibrating violently against its hardened skin. The entity merely turned its head, entirely unaffected by the low-tier physical disruption.

”Annoying,” the spirit muttered.

The entity raised both arms, its fingers curling into rigid claws. The ambient Black-Blood Miasma pooling on the floor suddenly rose into the air. The heavy fog condensed rapidly, solidifying into dozens of long, incredibly sharp needles of dark, corrosive liquid.

”It is solidifying the mist!” Luo Cheng warned, clutching his smoking side, his bronze skin severely compromised and dripping blood. ”Take cover!”

The spirit thrust its arms forward, unleashing the barrage.

The dozens of black-blood needles tore through the air with terrifying velocity. They possessed immense physical weight, shrieking as they displaced the heavy atmosphere of the chamber.

The barrage spread across the entire room, targeting everyone simultaneously with lethal precision.

Luo Cheng crossed his large gauntlets over his face, rooting his boots. Several heavy needles struck his arms, the heavy impact driving him backward. The corrosive liquid splashed against his metal guards, eating deeper into his compromised muscles.

Hai Kuo spun his heavy trident rapidly, utilizing his shoulder strength to create a physical shield of spinning metal, deflecting the heavy projectiles aimed at his chest.

Lin Wanyue raised her sword, channeling her water-qi to form a hasty defensive barrier. She was completely exhausted. Her internal pathways were sluggish, the flow of Qi heavily hindered by the extreme physical toll her body had endured during her intimate punishment. The barrier she erected was incredibly thin, completely lacking the necessary thickness to halt a physical projectile of that sheer weight.

Three heavy, black-blood needles sailed directly toward her position. They were perfectly aligned to pierce her heavy breasts and soft abdomen.

Lin Wanyue saw them coming. Her eyes widened, her muscles completely freezing in absolute terror. She knew her barrier would shatter instantly. She braced herself for the agonizing, lethal impact, her breathing stopping completely.

Wang Jian stood ten feet behind her.

He was breathing heavily, acting the part of a terrified, useless companion. He stumbled backward in mock panic, his boot deliberately catching on a raised iron rivet, throwing his physical balance off completely.

As he stumbled, Wang Jian seamlessly extended a microscopic, entirely invisible thread of his Stellar Demonic Qi from his left hand.

He did not target the needles directly. He targeted the ambient air pressure in the immediate three feet surrounding Lin Wanyue’s body. He drastically, violently shifted the heaviness of the wind, creating a highly localized, intense crosswind of heavy atmospheric pressure.

The three black-blood needles struck the altered, heavy air.

The physical trajectory of the liquid projectiles was instantly skewed. The needles screeched, grinding loudly against the thick air. They veered sharply to the left, missing Lin Wanyue’s body by mere inches.

The heavy needles bypassed her entirely, slamming into the solid iron wall behind her with devastating force. The heavy impact left deep, smoking craters in the rusted metal, the corrosive liquid aggressively eating into the iron.

Lin Wanyue stood perfectly still, her massive breasts rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for air. She stared at the smoking craters in the wall, entirely stunned. Then, she slowly turned her head to look behind her.

Hai Kuo was bleeding heavily from his arm, struggling to maintain his footing against the onslaught, his breathing ragged. Luo Cheng was groaning in intense pain, his bronze body melting.

Wang Jian was currently picking himself up off the iron floor, dusting his black robes, looking thoroughly panicked and entirely unthreatening to anyone watching.

But Lin Wanyue was not a fool. She was a Middle-Stage Core Formation expert. She had felt the distinct, unmistakable shift in the heaviness of the wind right before the needles struck. She recognized the incredibly dense, flawless control required to manipulate the atmosphere with such absolute precision without triggering a single visible fluctuation of Qi.

She stared at the demonic overlord.

Her mind fractured under a heavy, mind-shattering duality. Her powerful husband, the City Lord of Abyssal Pearl, was currently bleeding at the vanguard, completely unable to protect her from the lethal barrage. His physical strength was failing rapidly.

Yet, the man who had violently kidnapped her son, the man who had brutally taken her body into complete physical submission outside the meditation door, had just effortlessly, invisibly saved her life. He had completely altered the battlefield with a single, hidden gesture while pretending to trip over his own feet.

The sheer, terrifying contrast between Hai Kuo’s desperate, failing struggle and Wang Jian’s hidden, absolute control deepened the agonizing conflict within her Dao Heart.

A heavy, shameful wave of heat pooled in her lower abdomen. Her pussy throbbed intensely, weeping a fresh drop of moisture against her silk panties, entirely betraying her. Despite the absolute terror of the battle, despite the imminent threat of the ancient spirit, her primal constitution completely recognized and validated Wang Jian’s overwhelming supremacy. He was the apex predator in this room. He owned her life, and he owned her body.

Lin Wanyue quickly looked away, her cheeks burning crimson with deep shame, forcing herself to focus back on the brutal battle.

”The physical weight of the needles is too high!” Hai Kuo shouted, interrupting her corrupted thoughts. The City Lord wiped a thick streak of blood from his chin, his chest heaving. ”We cannot weather a sustained barrage!”

”Then we break its footing!” Shen Mengqi called out.

The Fairy of the Silver Gale stepped forward, her Breeze Sword gleaming sharply in the dim light. She executed a rapid sequence of precise footwork, her white robes fluttering as she shifted her weight.

”Silver Gale Execution Dance: Sweeping Current!”

She aimed a low, horizontal slash directly at the iron floor beneath the spirit’s boots. A heavy, highly pressurized blade of wind tore across the ground, kicking up sparks, seeking to sever the entity’s physical balance.

The spirit merely lifted its right foot, smoothly allowing the heavy wind blade to pass harmlessly beneath the boot.

”Your movements are precise, but entirely lacking in heavy intent,” the spirit mocked, turning its black eyes toward Shen Mengqi.

The entity lunged forward, shifting its heavy momentum, closing the distance to the Fairy in a single, terrifying stride. It reached out with a hand coated in the corrosive Black-Blood Miasma, aiming directly for Shen Mengqi’s soft throat.

Shen Mengqi attempted to step backward, raising her sword to parry, but the physical speed of the possessed vessel was overwhelming, completely bypassing her guard.

”Mengqi! Fall back!” Hua Yimei yelled, slamming her hands onto her zither to send a massive sonic pulse, but the entity ignored the disruption entirely.

Before the spirit’s hand could close around her neck, a heavy, bronze fist intercepted the strike.

Luo Cheng threw himself into the path of the attack, entirely abandoning his own safety. He took the heavy, corrosive palm strike directly against his chest plate.

CRACK!

The horrific sound of shattering ribs echoed loudly through the chamber. Luo Cheng coughed violently, a thick spray of blood escaping his lips as he was thrown entirely off his feet. The heavy momentum carried him backward, crashing heavily into Shen Mengqi and knocking them both to the hard iron floor.

”Daoist Luo!” Hai Kuo roared, rushing forward with his heavy trident, completely abandoning his defensive posture.

The City Lord thrust his weapon with everything he had, aiming directly for the spirit’s exposed flank. The entity simply sidestepped the heavy thrust, shifting its weight smoothly, its movements possessing an unnatural, gliding smoothness.

The spirit reached out, grabbing the thick shaft of the Deep-Sea Heavy Trident with its bare hand. The freezing water-qi coating the weapon hissed violently against the entity’s skin, turning to steam, but the spirit did not let go.

It yanked the heavy weapon forward, using the physical leverage to pull Hai Kuo entirely off balance.

As Hai Kuo stumbled forward, unable to halt his momentum, the spirit drove its knee directly into the City Lord’s stomach.

The immense physical impact lifted Hai Kuo into the air. He released his grip on the trident, his hands clutching his battered abdomen as he flew backward. He crashed heavily against the solid base of a rusted iron pillar, slumping to the floor, completely unable to rise.

The vanguard was entirely broken.

Luo Cheng was struggling to breathe, his chest caved in, his bronze skin melting rapidly. Hai Kuo was gasping for air on the floor, his internal organs severely bruised, his physical strength entirely spent.

The ancient spirit stood in the exact center of the chamber, surrounded by the swirling, corrosive Black-Blood Miasma, entirely untouched by the desperate, frantic assaults.

”The physical vessels of this era are remarkably fragile,” the spirit stated calmly, its voice vibrating with heavy, ancient malice. It slowly turned its terrifying gaze toward the group of women, and finally, toward Wang Jian standing in the shadows near the back wall.

”Now,” the entity declared, raising its arms as the dark mist began to expand rapidly, filling the ceiling of the massive chamber. ”I shall drain the remaining vitality from this room, and leave this tomb behind.”

Wang Jian stood quietly, his breathing entirely steady, his heartbeat perfectly calm. He looked at the failing City Lord, bleeding on the floor, then at the flushed, terrified face of Lin Wanyue, who was clutching her sword with trembling hands.

The board was set perfectly. The necessary sacrifices had been made. The false alliance had served its exact purpose, bleeding the enemy and exposing the spirit’s physical capabilities without revealing a single ounce of his own true strength.

He slowly lowered his hands to his sides. The harmless, terrified facade began to slip away completely, replaced by a cold, sadistic calm. His posture straightened, his abyssal eyes locking onto the ancient spirit. He was entirely ready to claim the stage for himself.