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A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Warning: 1. MC is a mad hound. 2. The story is R-17.99 as the title suggests. —————— Ansel of Hydral, the Empire's most notorious villain, devours a peculiar being known as a "Traveller". In doing so, he glimpses a future of despair, a foreordained future featuring a war-god who can shatter armies, a saint bearing great sins, a mage discerning the truth, and a heroine of unassailable morality... These formidable "she" would destroy his family, his empire, everything he holds dear. Upon truly recognizing the cruelty and weight of fate, Ansel has an epiphany. "If the Empire requires reform, then there is no need for a so-called protagonist. Armed with this knowledge, I can effect change far more efficiently." "And as for you, the world's chosen ones..." "If destiny dictates that you cannot be obliterated, then I have no option but to make you fall... fall with me to the very end of the abyss." In essence, this is a tale of a villain rebelling against fate, taming the chosen daughters of heaven, all while orchestrating a transformative revolution in the world. ————— Harem No yuri

POWER_ · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
767 Chs

Help and Maidservant

In response to Ansel's unreasonable demands, the Baron of Howling Wind could not refuse on the grounds of "unreasonableness," and could only claim that there were no necromancers in the city. 

However, as the person in charge of the looting route, how could the Baron of Howling Wind, who was engaged in such standard dirty work, not have a professional necromancer under his command? 

There were many reasons that could embarrass him, but Ansel still gently saved face for the Baron and gave him three days to contact a necromancer. 

As for the consequences of not being able to contact one, the Baron of Howling Wind was left to his own imagination.

Of course, Ansel was well aware that the Baron would not actually contact a necromancer; instead, he would do everything in his power to ensure that Ansel witnessed his own demise at the hands of others.

.

"So, what does this mean?" In the finest room of the Baron of Howling Wind's castle, Ansel sat by the fire, perusing a book, while Seraphina looked puzzled. "What do you mean by 'he will definitely find a way to die in front of you'?"

"Do you know these two barons, Seraphina?" Ansel took a sip of the fine wine offered by the Baron of Howling Wind.

"Why would I know them?"

"You see, you don't intend to understand them, yet you want to explain their actions." 

The young nobleman, who was earnestly educating his own dog, tilted his head back slightly. "Isn't that a fool's dream?" 

Seraphina hated Ansel's caring gaze and said resentfully, "Wasn't it you who told me about it? I'm not interested in knowing this."

"Alright." 

Ansel put down his wine glass, appearing nonchalant. "Since you don't need my help, I won't say more."

A small piece of dog food fell from the cunning Hydral's tail, and Seraphina immediately became alert, leaning forward. "What do you mean by 'help'?"

"Literally, because I think this test is a bit difficult for you." 

Ansel flipped through the pages, his slender index finger tracing the gilded lettering on the page.

"…Are you really that kind-hearted?" Miss Seraphina expressed her utmost doubt.

"That's why I don't plan to say more." Ansel tugged at the corner of his mouth and glanced at her. "Because you don't need it."

"…" 

Seraphina, squatting on the sofa, felt somewhat restless. She didn't quite trust Ansel, but the problem was that she was gradually becoming aware of the difficulty of this test. 

If the assassins were as "professional" as Ansel said, then as a hunter, she would be as good as blind and deaf, and holding a sword and bow would be futile.

She had been able to roam freely in the Frost Tower since she was twelve, relying on her unparalleled intuition. 

How could the young people of the academy easily conceal their impulses and intentions in battle? That's why they were often beaten by a twelve-year-old girl, but now, although Seraphina was no longer that young girl, the opponents she faced were worlds apart from those she had once beaten.

Without intuition as a weapon, Seraphina could only rely on her physical reactions to deal with emergencies, and she could not guarantee that under these conditions… she could keep Ansel from intervening less than three, uh, two times. 

Miss Seraphina wanted to go home and looked forward to the scene Ansel had casually mentioned, showing off to her old friends in the village how powerful she was now. She didn't want to miss this opportunity. 

As for punishment… she would never admit that she was afraid!

After much thought and hesitation, Seraphina finally said with a somewhat guilty tone, "I'm not… completely… just tell me, I don't care." 

"What does your indifference have to do with me?"

Ansel turned to the next page, unconcerned. "Seraphina, do you think that if you want to listen, I will tell you?" 

He leaned comfortably against the chair back, turned his head, and chuckled. "Your unfounded confidence is sometimes quite endearing, Seraphina." 

If it had been the old Seraphina, she would have bristled at Ansel's blatant sarcasm. But after days of high-pressure training from Ansel, Seraphina, although still impolite, had undergone a significant change. 

— As long as it was directly related to her own interests, she would try to restrain her claws and fangs, curb her wildness, and make concessions.

Although it sounded annoyingly utilitarian, her current relationship with Ansel was purely one of mutual use. Moreover, such utilitarianism was best for Ansel. 

It proved that she would continue to lick the honey Ansel had spilled, follow the path laid by the cunning Hydral, and inevitably fall into an inescapable trap.

.

Upon contemplating the reverential gazes she would receive upon her triumphant return home, Seraphina gritted her teeth and said, "So, what are the terms?" 

Accustomed to dealing with Ansel, she knew that he cared little for verbal respect or offense; this mischievous Hydral … was always concerned with matters of substance.

Thus, rather than humbly pleading, it was better to be straightforward — after all, Seraphina had no desire to speak to Ansel in a pitiful tone any longer. 

However, her understanding of Ansel was always limited to what he allowed her to perceive. Consequently, his unexpected and disconcerting demands towards her always delighted him. 

Since Seraphina now believed that respect for herself was not essential...

Tonight's training would focus on "submissiveness."

"Seraphina, do you know where the extravagance of nobility lies?" Ansel closed the book, set it aside, and lazily stretched his body. 

"I don't know," Seraphina became alert, as this scoundrel would always begin with a meaningless discourse when he was up to no good; the young wolf had grown accustomed to this. 

"It lies in... the squandering of human resources."

Ansel gazed at the flames burning in the fireplace and lamented, "People are precious, invaluable resources. Yet, nobles waste human resources on meaningless and unnecessary tasks, trampling on the value of others' existence while indulging in extravagant waste, causing others to become numb and accustomed to it, and placing themselves on a higher pedestal." 

"In every word and deed, in the most mundane of daily life..." he cradled his cheek, his expression becoming somewhat indifferent.

"Annihilating oneself, shackling others, causing the world and society to stagnate in putrid, stagnant waters, no longer flowing—this is nobility, heh, this is the most genuine and terrifying wickedness and extravagance of all 'superiors.'" 

"Although I can be considered one of them, I do not appreciate such extravagance; I can tolerate many forms of waste, but I will never accept the wanton squandering of human resources."

He glanced at Seraphina, whose face bore the words "Empty-Headed," and couldn't help but laugh, "I was just speaking my mind, don't take it to heart, Seraphina." 

For Ansel, thinking was the most important aspect of his life; possessing a vast repository of knowledge, he always believed that neglecting to think was the greatest blasphemy against his life.

"You just need to know that if I wanted to, I wouldn't even have to lift a finger, and someone would help me have a perfect day." 

"Grooming, organizing, eating, entertaining... even excretion; I only need to speak, or not even speak, and someone would help me complete it all. That is the extravagance of nobility." 

Hearing this, Seraphina frowned, as it directly touched the most rebellious part of her heart, prompting the young girl to instinctively retort sarcastically, "Does Lord Hydral require my assistance in going to the restroom?"

Ansel could have disgusted her by describing how nobles were "assisted in excretion," but he found it too repulsive, so he simply laughed, "Much easier than that, Seraphina. I don't need servants to do so much for me... but I cannot deny that my dear maidservants always do a perfect job, and I miss them a little after being away for just half a day." 

"So, in exchange for providing you with a little help—"

Ansel raised both hands, waving them playfully like an orchestra conductor, his tone cheerful, "Tonight, you shall be a sensible maidservant."