Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 999: The Shattered Barrier and the Bloodfiend’s Advance

The warm, crimson-tinted atmosphere inside the luxurious main cabin of the stealth vessel remained heavy and dense, carrying the rich, sweet aroma of high-grade fermented spirit wine and the thick musk of prolonged sexual dominance. Outside the hidden ship, nestled securely within a dense, swirling vortex of natural storm clouds, a historic, apocalyptic battle was tearing the fabric of the Myriad Reefs Sea Region to shreds. Inside, the quiet was punctuated only by the shallow, rhythmic breathing of four peerless beauties.

Following a brief period of recovery, Wang Jian lounged casually on his plush velvet throne, his towering, muscular form completely bare, radiating a deep, unyielding physical vitality. His dark, cascading waves of obsidian hair fell loosely across his broad shoulders, and his starlit eyes remained fixed on the glowing, three-dimensional tactical projection hovering in the center of the cabin. Shangguan Wan’er knelt submissively between his thighs on the thick snow-fox furs, her incredibly beautiful face heavily flushed, her breathing ragged. She leaned her soft, pristine cheek directly against the smooth, resting shaft of his massive member, her pale blue eyes swimming with a mixture of absolute, masochistic devotion and profound, unshakeable satisfaction.

The sheet-thin black silk of her modern-styled secretary outfit was completely rumpled around her narrow waist, her white silk blouse torn open down to her navel, explicitly exposing the inner, creamy slopes of her very large, bubbly, soft and sexy breasts to the cool air. She had submitted to Wang Jian to such an absolute, profound degree that she felt a strange, aching hollowness whenever his flesh was not directly pressed against hers, her mind entirely focused on his comfort.

“Look closely, Wan’er,” Wang Jian murmured, his casual yet smooth voice vibrating through the quiet cabin as he reached down to lazily stroke the smooth expanse of her shoulder. “The performance is entering its final, bloody act. Your family’s greatest rivals and the righteous path’s finest defenders are about to be reduced to memories.”

Shangguan Wan’er tilted her head slightly, her luscious lips brushing against his thigh as she looked up at the projection, her dark lashes fluttering. “They are foolish to think they could resist the combined might of the Holy Nether Sea Organization, Master. My grandfather always said the Ice Heart Palace was built on a foundation of brittle glass, not true power. They lack the flexibility of real merchants.”

The scene displayed on the massive, glowing screen showed a terrifying, rapid deterioration of the defensive lines surrounding the Frost Citadel. The secondary, localized barrier sustained by the ancient Grand Yin Ice Flame flickered violently, its pitch-black, light-consuming luminescence dimming noticeably under the continuous, overwhelming bombardment of the enemy fleet.

“The structural anchors are failing completely,” Chen Ying stated coldly, her sharp, analytical gaze fixed on the northern quadrant of the projection. The lethal assassin stood near the central console, her athletic, exceptionally curvaceous body adorned only in minimal black spider-silk straps that highlighted her perfect hourglass figure and her tight, perky breasts. She pointed a slender finger toward a series of massive, ancient ice pillars. “Look there, Master. Several critical, profound-ice pillars are fracturing. The demonic vanguard has unleashed a barrage of high-tier Blood-Fiend Explosive Talismans, targeting the primary runic nodes.”

“A calculated tactical approach,” Wang Jian observed, sipping a cup of rich spirit wine poured by a quiet Liu Ruyan. “They are grinding down the foundation before making the final push.”

With a sudden, deafening shatter that resonated across the sea and crackled loudly through the transmission talismans, the last remnants of the Ice Heart Palace’s defensive dome completely collapsed. The shimmering blue sky above the central pavilion dissolved into thousands of falling, sparkling shards of spiritual ice, leaving the core structures utterly, completely exposed to the open air.

A massive, victorious roar erupted from the tens of thousands of alliance cultivators hovering in the freezing skies. The sound was an unholy cacophony of blood-lust and triumphant arrogance. Righteous swordmasters from the corrupted factions and demonic blood-cultivators surged forward in a synchronized, chaotic wave, expecting an easy, immediate slaughter of the remaining, exhausted women huddled below.

“The slaughter is about to begin, Master,” Liu Ruyan whispered, leaning her soft, youthful body against his left arm. She was dressed in a tight, pink silk crop top that left her smooth midriff bare, the thin fabric accentuating her perky, large breasts. Her large eyes held a fanatical devotion as she looked from the screen to his face. “Should we prepare the portable arrays?”

“Not yet, Ruyan,” Wang Jian replied smoothly, his left hand coming down to aggressively, possessively fondle her large breast, squeezing the soft globe with commanding strength. “The ancient, profound heritage of the Ice Heart Palace cannot be entirely underestimated, even in its dying moments. A sect that has survived centuries in these treacherous waters always keeps a venomous sting hidden in the dark.”

His strategic insight proved flawless within seconds. Recognizing the imminent breach, the surviving elders of the Ice Heart Palace, gathered at the central square, simultaneously formed an incredibly complex, highly sacrificial hand seal. Their faces were pale, lines of dark crimson blood leaking from their lips as they chanted an ancient, forbidden runic sequence in perfect unison.

“Activate the Absolute Glacial Vein Suppression!” Su Binglan’s voice screamed across the battlefield, her tone cracking with sheer, agonizing physical exertion.

The very foundation of the island, a massive, incredibly high-quality Ice Spiritual Vein buried miles deep beneath the arctic bedrock, was violently, forcefully awakened. A terrifying, geyser-like burst of pure, freezing energy erupted outward from the central peaks, shattering the surrounding stones as a massive, visible shockwave of extreme cold expanded across the entire territorial domain.

The transition was instantaneous and devastating for the invaders. The tens of thousands of attacking cultivators instantly felt their movements falter. The ambient temperature dropped so low that the spiritual circulation within their meridians became sluggish and frozen. The fire-attribute techniques of the righteous defectors and the volatile blood-attribute arts of the demonic vanguard were severely weakened, restricted, and smothered by the overwhelming, localized environmental advantage.

Conversely, the surviving Ice Heart Palace disciples found their own techniques significantly amplified by the sudden surge of raw ice energy. Their sword Qi flew faster, cutting through the heavy air like razor-sharp shards, and their ice spells hit with twice the devastating kinetic impact, shattering the armor of the disoriented vanguard.

“A brilliant, desperate tactical shift,” Wang Jian praised aloud, his dark eyes gleaming with genuine appreciation for the martial display. He pulled Liu Ruyan onto his lap, shifting his weight slightly, causing his massive dick to brush against Shangguan Wan’er’s cheek once more.

“Ahhn… Master,” Liu Ruyan gasped, her voluptuous thighs spreading across his lap as his large hand slid beneath her pink top, directly capturing her bare, sensitive nipple piercing, pulling it aggressively to elicit a sharp moan of pure ecstasy.

“Watch closely,” Wang Jian ordered, his fingers kneading her large breasts while his gaze remained locked on the screen. “The Ice Heart elders are leading a furious, suicidal charge directly into the weakened enemy ranks. Their white robes are completely stained with the blood of their foes. They are fighting bravely, sacrificing their own longevity to buy mere minutes of survival.”

Hua Yimei knelt beside his right arm, her incredibly thick, hourglass figure clad in a tight crimson dress with a plunging neckline that showcased her profound cleavage and her heavy gold nipple rings. She leaned her massive, heavy breasts against his arm, her mature face tense with analytical focus. “Master, their counterattack is fierce, but the numerical disparity is simply too immense. The Holy Nether Sea Organization can lose three thousand men and still outnumber them ten to one. This suppression field will exhaust the spiritual vein within an hour.”

‘She is entirely correct,’ Wang Jian thought, his starlit eyes tracking the movements of the enemy command ships. ‘A territorial advantage is a temporary buffer, not a permanent solution against an overwhelming tide. The true master of the alliance is about to lose his patience.’

Seeing his vanguard momentarily stalled and his disposable rogue cultivators being systematically slaughtered by the environmental suppression, Patriarch Nine Nether Bloodfiend finally deemed it necessary to personally intervene. He would not allow a collection of exhausted women to humiliate his grand armada.

The Late-Stage Nascent Soul overlord descended slowly from his floating bone palace, stepping directly onto the frozen, blood-soaked battlefield of the central courtyard. He appeared as a tall, gaunt man, his features sharp and skeletal, wrapped in flowing robes that seemed to be woven from literal, continuously moving rivers of boiling blood.

The moment his leather boots touched the jade pavement, a terrifying, boundless pressure rippled outward. The immense density of his aura instantly melted the deep frost around him for hundreds of yards, completely neutralizing and overriding the Ice Spiritual Vein’s regional suppression through sheer, unadulterated cultivation superiority.

“Pathetic, insignificant struggles,” the Bloodfiend sneered, his voice a dry, rasping hiss that echoed clearly through the communication arrays. “You freeze my servants, yet you only prepare your own graves.”

Su Binglan landed on the stone steps of the grand scripture hall, her breathing shallow, her crystalline longsword trembling slightly in her hand. She looked at the gaunt monster standing before her, her sharp sapphire blue eyes narrowing with absolute, freezing hatred. She realized with chilling clarity that standard combat, conventional sword arts, and basic tactical maneuvers were entirely futile against an opponent an entire major realm higher than her current state. To preserve the remnants of her sisterhood, she had to rely on the absolute, forbidden foundation of her sect.

She retreated to the absolute apex of the grand scripture hall, her white robes fluttering wildly in the turbulent winds. With a decisive, unhesitating motion, she reached into her spatial ring and pulled out a pristine, completely transparent crystal hairpin. It was the Lifebound Spiritual Treasure left behind by the first founder of the Ice Heart Palace, an ancient artifact that hummed with a terrifying, deeply dormant spatial-ice energy.

However, an artifact of this magnitude could not be wielded freely by an Early-Stage Nascent Soul cultivator. It required an immense, irreversible personal sacrifice to fully awaken its ancient programming.

Without a single moment of hesitation, Su Binglan bit her tongue forcefully. She coughed up three glowing, incredibly dense drops of her Profound Essence Blood, the vibrant crimson liquid splashing directly onto the transparent surface of the crystal hairpin.

“Ancestral Strike: World-Freezing Lotus!” she cried out, her voice a piercing, absolute command that echoed to the heavens.

The moment her essence blood absorbed into the artifact, her beautiful, peerless face turned deathly pale, nearly translucent. Her spiritual aura plummeted drastically, her skin losing its healthy luster as she traded a full century of her personal lifespan for unparalleled, cataclysmic destructive power.

The crystal hairpin shattered into a million glowing fragments, unleashing a colossal, ethereal white lotus flower that instantly expanded to cover the entire sky above the core pavilion. The petals of the massive spiritual flower radiated a cold so absolute, so profoundly pure, that the very space around the courtyard began to visibly distort and warp, the air turning into a vacuum of zero temperature.

The World-Freezing Lotus crashed downward with the force of a falling continent, slamming directly into the absolute center of the Holy Nether Sea Organization’s vanguard forces.

The resulting explosion was entirely silent—a terrifying vacuum of sound—but the devastation was completely apocalyptic. A wave of white, absolute-zero energy swept through the courtyard. Over three thousand enemy cultivators, including five prominent, heavily armored Core Formation generals who had survived countless sea battles, were instantly, permanently frozen into solid, indestructible ice statues. The expressions of terror and shock were frozen flawlessly on their faces before the wind reduced several of them to sparkling dust.

“Incredible,” Hua Yimei gasped, her large hands gripping Wang Jian’s muscular thigh in genuine shock as she stared at the screen. The sheer scale of the strike made her heavy breasts heave against her crimson dress. “She actually managed to unleash a Late-Stage Nascent Soul level attack by burning her own lifeforce. Her elemental comprehension is terrifying.”

Wang Jian’s dark eyes widened slightly in genuine, unadulterated appreciation. His gaze was locked onto the pale, panting figure of Su Binglan on the screen. The sight of her devastating, wild power, combined with her exceptionally heavy, large breasts heaving violently with exhaustion beneath her torn robes, filled his demonic nature with an intense, raging surge of lust.

‘She is a magnificent creature,’ Wang Jian thought, his penis throbbing with a violent, possessive heat. ‘To possess a woman who can command the frost to freeze thousands… to break that unyielding spirit beneath my own body will be the ultimate artistic conquest. I will make her forget her ancestors entirely.’

However, as the thick, freezing mist slowly cleared from the central square, the terrifying, hopeless reality of the situation became apparent to everyone remaining alive on the island.

Patriarch Nine Nether Bloodfiend remained standing in the center of the ruins.

He had not escaped the strike through speed. Instead, with the cold ruthlessness of a true demonic overlord, he had forcefully grabbed hundreds of his own frontline disciples, throwing them in front of him and activating his signature Blood-Substitute Shield. The disposable cultivators had been instantly frozen and shattered, absorbing the absolute brunt of the ancestral strike for their master. The Patriarch emerged from the white fog completely unscathed, his gaunt face twisted into a mask of profound, blood-thirsty fury.

“You have ruined perfectly good blood-stock, little fairy,” Patriarch Nine Nether Bloodfiend hissed, his rasping voice dripping with pure, depraved malice. His skeletal fingers twitched as a fresh wave of boiling, acidic blood bubbled up from the floorboards beneath his feet. “Those core disciples would have fed my sea for a decade. Now, you will pay for their fields with your own flesh.”

The ancient monster did not give Su Binglan a single, solitary moment to recover from the severe, deeply debilitating aftereffects of burning her essence blood and sacrificing her lifespan.

The Patriarch raised both arms, his flowing blood-robes expanding like the wings of a bat. He unleashed his primary, devastating technique: the Corrosive Sea of Nine Nethers. A massive, roaring tidal wave of highly acidic, boiling, dark crimson blood materialized from the air, rushing forward with a deafening roar, sweeping directly toward the exhausted Palace Mistress.

Su Binglan raised her crystalline rapier with trembling hands, desperately, frantically attempting to form a basic Profound Ice Shield to protect herself. But her arms were shaking violently, her face was completely white, and her spiritual sea was utterly, entirely drained of Qi. She had nothing left to give.

The massive wave of boiling, corrosive blood crashed into her fragile defenses with absolute force. The ice shield shattered instantly into vapor. The impact sent Su Binglan flying backward through the air like a broken doll. She crashed violently through the reinforced roof of the grand scripture hall, disappearing beneath a cloud of splintered wood, ancient scrolls, and heavy stone debris.

Inside the stealth cabin, the visual projection automatically zoomed in, focusing directly on the interior of the ruined scripture hall.

Su Binglan lay sprawled amidst the rubble of her sect’s history. She coughed up a thick splatter of dark, freezing blood, her beautiful, peerless face marred by dust and small cuts. She struggled desperately to push herself up onto her elbows, but her limbs failed her, her muscles twitching with absolute exhaustion.

The force of the impact and the corrosive nature of the blood wave had caused immense, devastating damage to her elegant white robes. The heavy silk had been torn completely open in several strategic places. The front of her robe was ripped apart down to her sternum, explicitly exposing the incredibly deep, creamy cleavage of her massive, exceptionally heavy breasts to the open air. The fabric around her lower body was equally shredded, revealing the smooth, very fair, unblemished skin of her thick thighs and the elegant lines of her long legs amidst the dark gray rubble.

The extensive damage to her clothing did not make her look pitiful; instead, it achieved a profoundly erotic, devastatingly alluring visual. Her voluptuous, perfectly proportioned hourglass figure stood out starkly against the ruin, her massive breasts heaving rapidly as she gasped for air, her tight pink nipples tightening in the cold wind entering through the broken roof.

“She is entirely ripe for the taking, Master,” Shangguan Wan’er murmured from his lap. She had stopped her oral service, her pale blue eyes staring at the exposed, voluptuous body of the Palace Mistress on the screen. She felt a profound, familiar spike of wet, dripping arousal pooling between her own thighs. She knew exactly what was about to happen to that proud woman. “Her defenses are gone. Her Qi is empty. She is nothing but a beautiful, helpless bird waiting for your cage.”

‘Indeed,’ Wang Jian thought, his massive dick throbbing painfully hard against Liu Ruyan’s soft, oiled buttocks as he held her tightly against his chest, his eyes devouring the visual perfection of the ruined Ice Fairy. ‘The fruit has fallen from the tree. It is time to harvest.’

On the screen, Patriarch Nine Nether Bloodfiend descended slowly through the shattered roof, landing softly on the debris a few paces away from the fallen Palace Mistress. His dark, sunken eyes burned with an unconcealed, disgusting, and predatory lust as he stared down at her exposed, massive breasts and her bare thighs.

“I will not kill you just yet, Su Binglan,” the Patriarch laughed, a dry, rattling sound that made Hua Yimei and Liu Ruyan shudder in genuine disgust. He stepped closer, his blood-robes dragging over the ancient scrolls. “Your talent is rare, and your body is magnificent. I will chain you to the headboard of my bed in the floating palace. I will drain that pure, freezing Yin essence from those massive tits of yours every single night until you are nothing but a hollow, compliant doll serving my cultivation.”

Su Binglan glared up at him, her sapphire blue eyes burning with an absolute, unyielding, and freezing hatred that refused to be extinguished even in defeat. She bit her lip, desperately trying to summon the very last, microscopic dregs of the Grand Yin Ice Flame from her core for a final, suicidal self-detonation, preferring death over the defilement he promised.

But her body was failing her completely. Her core remained dark, silent, and empty. She was on the absolute, catastrophic brink of total defeat. Her elders were dead or dying in the courtyards outside, her ancient artifacts were reduced to shards, and her own flesh was refusing to obey her commands.

Wang Jian abruptly stood up from his plush velvet throne.

The movement was sudden and powerful, his dark, commanding aura instantly flaring outward, filling the entire luxurious cabin with an oppressive, heavy density that snapped his four beautiful sluts to absolute, rigid attention. They immediately scrambled off the throne and the furs, standing in a neat line, their eyes fixed on his towering, naked form.

Wang Jian reached down, picking up his pristine white scholarly robes from the floor. He slid into the silk garments with smooth, practiced efficiency, fastening his silver sash with a crisp, decisive snap. His obsidian hair cascaded perfectly around his handsome face, his starlit eyes gleaming with an absolute, cold, and utterly ruthless confidence.

“The play is officially over, ladies,” Wang Jian declared, a dark, predatory smile spreading across his flawless features as he panned his gaze across his elite retinue. He reached out, his hand casually, firmly gripping Shangguan Wan’er’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. “The Bloodfiend has played his part perfectly. He has broken the shell, he has drained the prize, and he has cleared the board of any annoying distractions. Now, it is time for the true master of this region to make his move.”

“We are ready, Master,” Chen Ying stated, her hand resting firmly on the hilt of her sword, her cold eyes reflecting his lethal intent.

“Let us go claim our new sister,” Hua Yimei purred, her massive breasts heaving with excitement within her crimson dress.

Wang Jian turned toward the primary array console, his mind already locking onto the spatial coordinates transmitted by Elder Bing Yun inside the grand hall. The shadows had finished their preparations; the mastermind was about to descend upon the frozen battlefield.