Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 869: The Glimpse Of A Protagonist and His Strategic Retreat



Chapter 869: The Glimpse Of A Protagonist and His Strategic Retreat



Wang Jian stepped back into the vast, steam-filled cavern, the faint, sweet scent of the consumed Verdant Eternal Spring Essence clinging subtly to him, a secret vitality now woven into his being. His fresh grey outer sect robes felt clean, a stark contrast to the tattered, blood-soaked ones he had discarded.


Yue Lingshan, her Verdant Willow Blade still held loosely, her veiled gaze sharp, offered a subtle nod of acknowledgement. "Junior Brother Wang, your ’exploration’ seems to have been... thorough."


Liu Ruyan, her ethereal temperament now imbued with a distinct fiery spark from the absorbed Blood Spirit Flame, also turned. The last ember of the flame on the obsidian pedestal had winked out, its power now residing within her. "Senior Brother Wang, we were just discussing the potency of the residual energies here. Your return is timely."


Before Wang Jian could offer a more detailed, fabricated account of his ’vexing delay’, his head snapped up. His senses, honed by countless battles and now subtly enhanced by both his Steller Qi and the Verdant Eternal Spring Essence, registered a faint, almost imperceptible disturbance near the cave entrance they had used.


A new presence.


He raised a hand, a silent signal for caution. "Quiet. Someone approaches."


Yue Lingshan and Liu Ruyan instantly tensed, their recent camaraderie shifting to wary alertness. They turned their gazes towards the dark, steam-wreathed opening, their hands instinctively moving towards their weapons. The Blood Forbidden Ground was no place for complacency.


A moment later, a figure emerged from the shadows of the passage, stepping into the dim, residual light of the cavern.


He was young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, clad in the simple, slightly worn blue robes of an Azure Sword Clan outer sect disciple. His appearance was decidedly average, unremarkable – not handsome, not ugly, the kind of face that would easily be lost in a crowd. His cultivation aura was present but not overwhelming, registering at the Ninth Stage of Qi Condensation.


Yet, there was something in his eyes – a deep, unyielding resilience, a spark of determination that belied his ordinary appearance and seemingly modest cultivation. He carried a standard-issue Azure Sword Clan longsword, its scabbard battered, its hilt wrapped with worn leather.


This was Ye Fan.


His journey to this point, to this very cavern, had been a testament to a will forged in hardship. Born into a minor branch family of the Azure Sword Clan, his early life had been a litany of scorn and quiet suffering. His father, a once-promising disciple, had vanished on a sect mission years ago, presumed dead, leaving Ye Fan and his frail mother to endure the disdain of their relatives.


He himself had been branded ’trash’. His spiritual roots were a chaotic mess: False Spiritual Roots of Four Elements – Wood, Fire, Water, and Earth. In a sect that prized pure, single or dual elemental affinities for their swift sword arts, Ye Fan’s muddled foundation was a cruel joke. Cultivation had been an agonizing crawl, each tiny advancement squeezed out through sheer, desperate effort, earning him only more derision.


"Look, it’s Ye Fan, the four-element waste!"


"Still stuck at the Third Stage? My contracted spirit-ferret cultivates faster!"


"His mother must weep every night, birthing such a disappointment."


The whispers had been relentless. His mother, a gentle soul, had withered under the constant pressure, her health declining. Ye Fan had borne it all, a silent, burning resentment coiling in his young heart, a fierce protectiveness for the only person who had ever shown him kindness.


Then, a few months ago, fate, or perhaps the desperate prayers of a filial son, had intervened. While fleeing a beating from some arrogant inner sect disciples in a remote, forgotten part of the sect’s back mountains, he had stumbled upon a small, unassuming black bead, half-buried in the dirt. Drawn by an inexplicable impulse, he had picked it up.


The bead had fused with his palm, then his soul.


And with it, a miracle.


The bead contained a small, nascent world, a pocket dimension no larger than a few acres, but with a staggering secret: time within it flowed fifty times faster than in the outside world. One day outside was fifty days within.


Suddenly, Ye Fan possessed the one thing he had always lacked: time.


He began to experiment. Seeds of common spirit herbs, planted in the fertile soil of the bead-world, matured in what felt like mere hours of outside time, yielding herbs of incredible age and potency. He spent ’years’ inside the bead-world, practicing the Azure Sword Clan’s most basic techniques, honing them to a degree no one would have imagined, his chaotic four-element Qi, through sheer, mind-numbing repetition, slowly, stubbornly, beginning to obey his will.


He found old, discarded pill recipes, and with the high-age herbs he cultivated, he secretly began to concoct his own cultivation aids. His progress, once glacial, became a torrent. From the brink of the Fourth Stage, he had surged, in the span of a few real-world months, to the Ninth Stage of Qi Condensation. He had also used the extended time within the bead-world to rigorously temper his body, following brutal training regimens he’d pieced together from fragmented texts, making his physique far more resilient than his cultivation realm suggested.


His combat strength now far surpassed his Ninth Stage cultivation, easily matching a typical Twelfth Stage disciple.


He had managed to secure a spot in the Blood Forbidden Ground expedition through a mixture of luck, a surprising display of combat prowess during a qualifying spar (where he’d ’accidentally’ defeated a favored Tenth Stage disciple), and perhaps the subtle pity of an elder who remembered his missing father.


He had come to this volcanic cave system seeking the Blood Spirit Flame. He’d learned of its existence, and its approximate location, by ambushing a lone, arrogant Crimson Pill Sect disciple in a less-traveled part of the Forbidden Ground, beating him half to death until the terrified youth had spilled every secret he knew.


Now, as Ye Fan stepped into the vast cavern, his gaze swept over the scene.


Three figures. Two women, one in the medicinal green of the Crimson Pill Sect, the other in the grey of Mystic Peak. Both veiled, but even so, the grace of their forms, the subtle allure they exuded, was undeniable. A flash of raw, instinctual lust, quickly suppressed, flickered in the depths of Ye Fan’s eyes. He was young, and beauty, especially such ethereal, cultivator beauty, was a potent distraction.


His gaze hardened as it fell on the man standing slightly in front of them, also in Mystic Peak robes. This man... Ye Fan felt an inexplicable sense of profound danger emanating from him, a cold, predatory stillness that his Ninth Stage senses screamed at him to avoid.


Wang Jian, his own senses sharp, caught that fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of lust in Ye Fan’s eyes as they swept over Yue Lingshan and Liu Ruyan. It was a primal, quickly hidden reaction, but Wang Jian registered it.


’Interesting,’ Wang Jian thought, his expression unreadable. ’This newcomer... average appearance, Ninth Stage Qi Condensation, Azure Sword Clan outer robe. Yet he made it this far. And that brief look... he has desires, well hidden.’


He then felt something else, a subtle, almost imperceptible resonance from Ye Fan, a faint echo of... destiny? Of a will that had overcome immense odds? It was a sensation he hadn’t encountered before in this Primal Universe, but it reminded him, vaguely, of certain individuals from his past, individuals who had often proven to be either incredibly troublesome or incredibly useful.


’Could this be... one of this realm’s "protagonists"?’ Wang Jian mused, a cold, analytical amusement stirring within him. ’The Blood Spirit Flame, the Verdant Eternal Spring Essence I just acquired, even these herbs... perhaps they were all "fated" for him, and I merely... intercepted destiny’s delivery.’ He found the thought rather entertaining. This Primal Universe was proving to be full of surprises.


Ye Fan’s gaze swept the cavern again. He saw the now-extinguished obsidian pedestal where the Blood Spirit Flame had clearly burned. He saw the lingering traces of its potent energy in the air, now mostly absorbed by the Crimson Pill disciple.


’The flame... it’s gone. They’ve already taken it.’ A pang of disappointment, sharp and bitter, stabbed at him. He had risked much to learn of it, to reach this place.


He assessed the three cultivators before him. The Crimson Pill woman and the Mystic Peak woman both radiated auras of the Twelfth Stage of Qi Condensation, their stances alert, their spiritual energy stable and strong.


And the man... the Mystic Peak man in grey... his cultivation also felt like the Twelfth Stage, perhaps even peak Twelfth, but the sense of danger he projected was far beyond that. It was a primal warning, like facing a slumbering behemoth.


’Three of them. All Twelfth Stage or equivalent combat power. And they seem united, despite the different sect robes. The flame is gone. Antagonizing them would be... foolish. Suicidal.’


Ye Fan was no fool. His harsh upbringing had taught him pragmatism, the brutal calculus of survival. He had his bead-world, his secrets. There would be other opportunities. This one was lost.


He made his decision in an instant.


Without a word, without a gesture of aggression or even acknowledgement, Ye Fan spun on his heel. His hand flashed to his belt, and with a flare of spiritual energy, he crushed a small, intricately carved wooden token.


An Escape Talisman.


A shimmering, silvery light enveloped him, and with a soft pop, Ye Fan vanished from the cavern, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the surprised expressions of Yue Lingshan and Liu Ruyan.


Wang Jian, however, wasn’t entirely surprised. He was... amused.


’He ran. Smart. Assessed the situation, recognized the overwhelming disadvantage, cut his losses, and fled decisively. No posturing, no foolish pride. Interesting. Most "protagonists" I recall were far more prone to reckless confrontations.’


He had even used an Escape Talisman, a valuable, single-use item, indicating a certain ruthlessness in preserving his own life and secrets.


"Well," Yue Lingshan said, lowering her Nightwind Terror Fan, her voice tinged with surprise. "That was... abrupt. An Azure Sword disciple, Ninth Stage, all the way out here, and he just... leaves?"


Liu Ruyan also looked perplexed. "Indeed. He seemed to be seeking the Blood Spirit Flame as well. But to flee so readily... most peculiar."


Wang Jian chuckled softly. "Perhaps he simply realized he was outnumbered and outmatched, and that the prize he sought was already claimed. A pragmatic choice." He turned his attention back to Liu Ruyan, his expression returning to polite professionalism.


"Fairy Liu," he began, "now that you have successfully integrated the Blood Spirit Flame, and the... unexpected guest has departed, perhaps we could discuss those rare herb locations you mentioned? And the matter of those... recipes?"


Liu Ruyan’s attention snapped back, her earlier excitement returning. "Oh, yes, of course, Senior Brother Wang! The herbs! There are several patches not far from this caldera, thriving in the geothermal heat. One particular valley is said to house mature Firemane Lilies and Sunstone Moss, both excellent for fire-attribute cultivation and pill refinement."


She paused, then a slight blush seemed to touch her cheeks beneath her veil. "And the recipes... as I promised, I have a sect-standard jade slip detailing the refinement of several advanced Qi Condensation pellets that utilize such fire-aspected herbs. It is yours, Senior Brother Wang, Senior Sister Yue, as a token of my gratitude." She retrieved a jade slip from her storage pouch with a wave of her spiritual energy and offered it.


Wang Jian accepted it with a polite nod. "Our thanks, Fairy Liu. This is most generous." He quickly scanned its contents. ’Formulas for ’Inferno Heart Pills’, ’Sunspark Pellets’, and a ’Minor Fire Resistance Draught’. Useful.’


He then added, his tone casual, "Fairy Liu, the Crimson Pill Sect is renowned throughout the State of Yue, indeed, throughout several neighboring states, for its profound alchemical heritage. The recipes you have shared are valuable, but I confess, my interest in the deeper arts of alchemy is... considerable."


He met her veiled gaze. "Beyond these initial recipes, I would be very interested in acquiring more knowledge from your esteemed sect. Formulas for pills that aid in Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, perhaps even those that temper the soul or enhance specific elemental affinities beyond simple fire. As many as your sect might be willing to share, or as you yourself might possess."


He raised a hand before she could speak. "Naturally, I do not expect such profound knowledge for free. I would be willing to trade for them. Perhaps with high-quality pellets I refine, or with rare herbs I might acquire, or even with spirit stones, though my current reserves are modest. This would, of course, be a gradual exchange, conducted over time, perhaps even after we depart this Blood Forbidden Ground, should our paths cross again in the wider cultivation world."


Yue Lingshan listened silently, a subtle, almost imperceptible tightening around her veiled lips. She knew Wang Jian. This wasn’t just about recipes.


Liu Ruyan considered his words. Her sect, the Crimson Pill Sect, guarded its core alchemical knowledge fiercely. Many of its most potent pill recipes were sect secrets, not easily shared with outsiders, even for a price.


However, Wang Jian was no ordinary outsider. His own alchemical talent was clearly prodigious, capable of refining top-grade pellets with apparent ease. An alliance, a long-term trading relationship with such an individual, could be incredibly beneficial, not just for her, but potentially for her sect. And his strength... it was undeniable. Having such a powerful cultivator owe her, or her sect, favors...


"Senior Brother Wang," Liu Ruyan said slowly, choosing her words with care, "your ambition in the alchemical arts is admirable. The recipes I have shared are but the tip of the iceberg of my sect’s knowledge. Many of our more profound formulas are indeed heavily restricted."


She paused. "However... for a cultivator of your talent, and in recognition of the significant aid you have provided... I believe some accommodations might be possible. Some recipes, particularly those up to the Core Formation level, I might be able to share from my own learning, in exchange for fair value."


Her voice became a little firmer. "But for the truly core secrets of the Crimson Pill Sect, those recipes that define our heritage, or those pertaining to Nascent Soul level refinement... those would require the express permission of my Sect Elders, perhaps even my Master. The price for such knowledge, if they even consent to share it, would be... substantial. And the process would indeed be gradual, requiring trust and proven benefit to the sect."


Wang Jian smiled inwardly. ’Perfect. She’s hooked. Gradual exchange. Trust. Proven benefit. All excellent reasons for continued... interaction.’


Outwardly, he nodded gravely. "I understand completely, Fairy Liu. Such profound knowledge cannot be treated lightly. I am prepared to demonstrate my sincerity and the mutual benefits of such an exchange over time. We can discuss the specifics further after we have secured these initial herb locations you mentioned."


He then offered her a charming, reassuring smile, the kind that had disarmed many a suspicious Deacon and eager Senior Sister back at Mystic Peak. "For now, let us focus on the treasures this Cinderwaste Caldera still holds. Lead the way, Fairy Liu. We are ready when you are."


Liu Ruyan, despite her usual serene composure, felt a faint flutter in her chest at his smile. There was a magnetism about this Senior Brother Wang, a confident charm that was hard to resist, even when discussing matters of profound sect secrecy. His earlier ruthlessness in battle seemed a distant memory, replaced by this polite, ambitious, and undeniably handsome cultivator.


’A long-term association with him...’ she thought, ’might indeed be very... rewarding. In many ways.’


She nodded, a new warmth in her voice. "Very well, Senior Brother Wang, Senior Sister Yue. Follow me. The Valley of Smoldering Flora is just beyond that ridge. It is said to be perpetually wreathed in volcanic steam, a perfect crucible for the rarest of fire-aspected herbs."


As they prepared to depart the cavern, Wang Jian cast one last, thoughtful glance towards the empty passage where Ye Fan had vanished.


’A protagonist, running away. How... unconventional. This Primal Universe is definitely shaping up to be more entertaining than I initially anticipated.’


His gaze then shifted subtly towards Liu Ruyan’s gracefully moving, veiled figure as she began to lead the way.


’And the "rewards"...’ he mused, a cold, predatory glint deep within his eyes, ’are not limited to mere herbs and recipes.’



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