Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 1037: The Fracture of the Truce

The brief warmth of the spring thaw arrived across the Myriad Reefs Sea Domain two months after the conclusion of the grand assembly on Coral Cloud Island. Yet the melting of the northern ice floes brought no peace to the churning azure waters. As the thirty thousand cultivators dispersed from the neutral archipelago, the fragile winter truce dissolved into thin mist. Both the Myriad Ocean Palace and the Holy Nether Sea Organization mobilized their repaired armadas, steering hundreds of warships toward a treacherous, newly discovered focal point: the Dragon-Spine Trench.

Six weeks prior, a violent deep-earth tectonic shift had torn open the seabed along the trench, unsealing an ancient Fourth-Grade Spiritual Vein. Whoever claimed this surging nexus of earth-qi could anchor a permanent naval fortress capable of controlling seventy percent of the trade lanes between the outer islands and the inner sea.

While the great factions prepared for a bloody collision, Ye Fan spent those two crucial months hidden inside a secluded, water-filled coral cave forty miles west of the trench.

Inside the dark, echoing grotto, Ye Fan sat cross-legged upon a flat slab of reef stone. Resting against his chest, the Temporal Jade Bead radiated a faint, milky-white glow, bending the localized flow of time around his cushion so that each day outside granted him three days of uninterrupted refinement within its three-yard boundary.

Hovering in the air before his knees was his lifebound weapon, the heavy black broadsword, alongside the fist-sized Seven-Star Glacial-Flame Seed he had acquired from the Golden-Tide Consortium.

Ye Fan inhaled a slow breath, his chest expanding as he circulated his Core Formation Qi through his primary meridians. He extended his right index and middle fingers, pointing them toward the floating mineral. A stream of golden purifying flame surged from his fingertips, wrapping around the soot-covered stone.

The intense heat of the golden flame met the outer shell of the Seven-Star Glacial-Flame Seed. With a sharp hiss, black soot flaked away in curling ribbons, revealing a translucent crystalline core that held seven tiny, swirling vortices of deep-blue frost and crimson fire.

’The outer shell is gone,’ Ye Fan noted, keeping his breathing steady as beads of sweat rolled down his jaw. ’Now to extract the glacial marrow without fracturing the seven internal star-nodes.’

He shifted his left hand into a claw seal, drawing water-qi from the surrounding cave pool. He wove ten thin threads of cold spiritual energy, guiding them into the seven tiny vortices of the crystal. Each time a thread touched a star-node, the crystal vibrated with a sharp chime, sending a freezing jolt back up Ye Fan’s arm. Frost crept over his knuckles, stiffening his finger joints, while his right arm burned with the radiant heat of his golden flame.

Drop by drop, a thick, syrupy blue-gold liquid bled from the melting crystal. Ye Fan gritted his teeth against the cramping pain in his forearms, rotating his wrists to smear the molten mineral along the spine and fuller of his heavy black broadsword.

The black metal of the broadsword drank the liquid greedily. Runic veins of deep, icy blue spread across the dark iron, cooling the violent golden aura that normally blazed from the weapon. Once the blade was saturated, Ye Fan drew the remaining half of the glacial-flame essence into his mouth, swallowing it straight down into his Dantian.

The icy liquid struck his spinning Golden Core like a falling glacier. His internal spiritual sea boiled. For three weeks inside the temporal field, Ye Fan circulated the ancient wind and flame breathing patterns he had claimed from the ruin of the Abyssal Zephyr Lord, forcing the glacial marrow to wrap around his Golden Core like a protective shell.

When the final drop of essence merged into his core, a heavy muffled pulse echoed from his abdomen, pushing the surrounding cave water backward against the coral walls. His cultivation base surged past its previous threshold, settling firmly at the Peak of the Mid-Stage Core Formation Realm.

Ye Fan opened his eyes and exhaled a long plume of frosty blue vapor. He raised his right palm. A tongue of fire flickered to life above his skin. At its center burned his lethal, purifying golden flame, yet the outer layer was cloaked in a dense, freezing shroud of deep-blue spiritual light. Neither demonic blood-cultivators nor righteous inquisitors would recognize his true signature now.

He stood up, gripping the hilt of his heavy black broadsword, and strapped it into the five-element bone scabbard across his back. Touching the wooden mercenary token at his waist, Ye Fan stepped out of the cave to answer the mobilization summons of the Azure Wave Sword Sect vanguard.

Three thousand fathoms beneath the sunlit surface of the open ocean, where no natural light penetrated the crushing black water, three colossal Abyssal Stealth Galleons glided in silent formation along the sandy floor of a deep-sea ravine.

Constructed from dark profound-sea ironwood and plated in sound-absorbing Star-Core Iron, the vessels moved without creating a single wake. At the bow of the flagship, inside the forward array spire, Yue Lingshan stood before a floating bronze astrolabe. Dressed in modest, high-collared white robes woven from Thousand-Year Spirit-Silk, Wang Jian’s virtuous wife wove steady hand seals, channeling her dual Wood and Water Qi into the hull’s runes to harmonize the ships with the deep-ocean currents.

"The outer acoustic veil is stable, Sister Lingshan," a soft female disciple reported from the lower console. "The surface patrols of the Azure Wave Sword Sect passed two ???? fathoms above us without registering a single ripple."

"Maintain the current output," Yue Lingshan replied with a gentle, focused nod. "My husband is conducting a private strategic review with the senior sect masters in the rear chambers. We must ensure the vessel remains steady so his concentration is not disturbed."

Yue Lingshan turned her earnest gaze back to the glowing astrolabe, her heart warm with pride as she protected the ship, oblivious to the true nature of the "strategic review" occurring behind the triple-layered soundproofing barriers at the stern of the flagship.

Inside the sprawling, velvet-draped master stateroom at the rear of the dreadnought, the air was hot, humid, and thick with the intoxicating musk of prolonged carnal indulgence.

Wang Jian sat upon a wide, fur-lined divan at the center of the chamber, his broad, muscular torso bare and gleaming with sweat. Around him, six of the most powerful and revered women in the Myriad Reefs Sea Domain were arranged in states of shameless, eager submission, dressed in scandalous garments he had specifically designed to highlight their lush, mature figures.

Hua Yimei, the dignified Sect Leader of the Fragrance Melody Sect, knelt on the carpet between Wang Jian’s knees. She wore a sheer, ruby-red lace bodysuit that left her massive, gold-pierced breasts spilling out over the low cups, while thin straps dug deeply into the soft flesh of her wide, curvy hips. Right beside her knelt her daughter, Hua Ling’er, clad in a matching crimson satin halter top that barely contained her own heavy, bouncing chest, paired with a tiny pleated skirt that left her round backside exposed whenever she leaned forward.

To Wang Jian’s left, Shen Mengqi—once the cold, untouchable sword fairy of the Silver Gale Sect—lay back against the velvet pillows, her long legs spread wide. Since converting her foundation to the Nine-Turn Profound Yin Scripture, her skin possessed a porcelain sheen that radiated a seductive, frosty allure. She wore a tight, high-slitted black silk dress with the front panels unfastened, exposing her full, heavy breasts and the dark crimson slave rune pulsing softly beneath her navel.

To his right knelt Elder Bing Yun, the silver-haired High Elder of the Ice Heart Palace, alongside Liu Ruyan and Chen Ying. Bing Yun wore a translucent white gauze robe tied loosely with a silver sash, her mature, abundant curves pressing against Wang Jian’s muscular shoulder as she poured fermented dragon-blood wine into a jade goblet.

"Ling’er, your tongue is getting lazy," Wang Jian growled, his large, calloused right hand tangled in Hua Ling’er’s long black hair while his left hand roughly gripped Hua Yimei’s heavy right breast, kneading the soft flesh until red finger-marks bloomed across her pale skin. "Look at your mother. She knows how to put her throat to work for her master."

Hua Yimei let out a muffled, wet moan around the thick base of Wang Jian’s engorged shaft, her mature face flushed a deep scarlet as she bobbed her head down, taking his pulsing length deep into her warm throat before pulling back to let her daughter take over.

"Forgive me, Master!" Hua Ling’er gasped, her pretty face glistening with saliva and sweat. Not wanting to lose his favor to her own mother, the young woman pushed her heavy breasts against Wang Jian’s muscular thighs and eagerly engulfed the wet tip of his shaft, sucking hard while her mother licked and kissed along the underside. "Ling’er can take it deeper than Mother! Please watch me, Master!"

"Hmph, arrogant girl," Hua Yimei purred huskily, her eyes glazed with dark lust as she rubbed her heavy, pierced nipple against Wang Jian’s knee. "When Master took us both in the Alchemy Pavilion three years ago, you passed out after the second hour while I took his seed until dawn. Move your head aside and let me show you how to properly relax his meridians."

Wang Jian laughed darkly, enjoying theshameless competition between the mother-and-daughter duo. It had been years since he conquered the two of them on the Fragrance Melody Sect’s home island, and both women now craved his rough, uncompromising touch above all else.

He pulled Hua Yimei up by her waist, hauling her lush, curvy body onto the divan. Without a shred of gentleness, Wang Jian flipped the mature Sect Leader onto her hands and knees over the velvet armrests, positioning her wide, juicy hips right in front of him. He slapped her round, fleshy backside hard enough to make the sound echo off the cabin walls, causing Hua Yimei to cry out in breathless ecstasy.

"Position yourself beneath your mother, Ling’er," Wang Jian ordered, his voice thick with primal dominance. "Catch whatever drips down."

"Yes, Master!" Hua Ling’er whimpered, scrambling onto her back on the cushions directly underneath her mother’s chest, her hands reaching up to fondle Hua Yimei’s swaying, gold-pierced breasts.

Wang Jian gripped Hua Yimei’s lush hips with both hands, his fingers digging forcefully into her soft flesh, and drove his thick, scorching manhood straight into her soaking core in a single, violent thrust.

"Aaaah! Master!" Hua Yimei screamed, her back arching as the immense size and searing heat of his Heavenly Yang Divine Physique stretched her inner walls to their limit.

Wang Jian did not start slow. He hammered his hips forward with brutal, relentless momentum, his heavy pelvis slamming against her plump backside in a rapid, thunderous rhythm. With every savage thrust, Hua Yimei’s massive breasts swung violently below her, brushing against Hua Ling’er’s flushed face.

While pounding into the mature Sect Leader, Wang Jian turned his head toward Shen Mengqi, who was watching him with parted lips, her fingers rubbing furiously between her own wet thighs as her Nine-Turn Profound Yin Scripture reacted to the dense Yang aura filling the room.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself, Mengqi?" Wang Jian barked, never breaking the brutal pace of his hips against Hua Yimei’s backside.

Shen Mengqi flinched, pulling her wet fingers away from her core, her cheeks burning with shame and desperate need. "No, Master... Mengqi couldn’t help it. Your Yang Qi is too hot... my Yin meridians are aching to be filled. Please, stop teasing me and use my body next!"

"Get over here and sit on my thigh while I finish with Yimei," Wang Jian commanded, pulling his right hand off Hua Yimei’s hip to slap the leather cushion beside him. "And Bing Yun, bring that wine over here. Feed it to me with your mouth."

Elder Bing Yun shivered with delight, her dignified silver hair cascading over her bare, heavy breasts as she took a large mouthful of the warm dragon-blood wine and straddled Wang Jian’s left leg. She pressed her full, soft lips against his mouth, transferring the rich, fiery liquor over his tongue while Wang Jian’s left hand roughly grabbed a fistful of her plump backside, grinding her wet silk-covered core against his hard thigh.

Shen Mengqi crawled across the divan on her hands and knees, her black silk dress bunched around her waist. She pressed her cool, porcelain-smooth breasts against Wang Jian’s right arm, tilting her chin up so he could reach down and roughly pinch her stiff pink nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Harder, Master!" Shen Mengqi moaned, leaning into his bruising grip, completely unrecognizable from the righteous master whom Ye Fan still worshiped in his memories. "Ruin me! Pump your essence deep into my Dantian!"

For the next two hours, the master stateroom remained a cauldron of relentless, aggressive passion. Wang Jian moved from Hua Yimei to her daughter Hua Ling’er, pinning the younger woman’s curvy legs back against her shoulders as he pounded her into the cushions, before finally throwing Shen Mengqi onto her stomach and driving his scorching Yang Qi into her freezing Yin pathways until both she and Elder Bing Yun were left trembling, soaked in sweat and his thick essence upon the furs.

Only when his raging internal Yang heat was thoroughly vented and harmonized did Wang Jian step off the divan. Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan immediately stepped forward with warm, damp silk towels, kneeling to wipe down his muscular frame before dressing him in his black, gold-trimmed commander robes.

"Rest and circulate your Qi," Wang Jian instructed, looking back at the tangled pile of voluptuous, panting beauties on the bed. "We are approaching the outer ridge of the Dragon-Spine Trench."

He stepped through the triple-layered soundproofing doors, walking down the metallic corridor toward the central command bridge.

Inside the darkened bridge, illuminated by the pale blue glow of a three-dimensional water-projection table, stood Mu Lianhua, Su Binglan, Shangguan Wan’er, and Lin Wanyue. All four women wore their formal attire, though the moment Wang Jian entered, their eyes softened with unmistakable, slavish devotion.

"Master," Shangguan Wan’er greeted him, stepping aside from the projection table so he could take the central spot. Her tight gold gown hugged her wide hips as she bowed. "Both fleets have taken the bait. Our communication relays just received final confirmation from Qiu Yun and Su Ning."

Wang Jian rested his hands on the edge of the brass rim, looking down at the glowing blue projection of a narrow, winding undersea canyon shaped like a jagged scar across the ocean floor.

"Show me the convergence timing," Wang Jian said.

Three thousand fathoms above the hidden dreadnoughts, the surface of the ocean was a churning expanse of white foam.

Forty armored sword-cruisers belonging to the Azure Wave Sword Sect—a premier righteous vanguard under the banner of the Myriad Ocean Palace—cut through the high waves in a sharp wedge formation. Flanking the massive ironwood cruisers were eighty agile transport cutters, their decks crowded with over four thousand righteous disciples wearing azure robes and carrying standard-issue spirit swords.

Inside the command pavilion of the lead flagship, The Azure Cleaver, Vanguard Commander Elder Cang Song stood before a massive map table carved from white jade. Elder Cang Song was a stern, broad-shouldered man at the Peak of the Late-Stage Core Formation Realm, with a long grey beard and three scars running across his left cheek. Around him stood six Mid-Stage Core Formation deacons, including Deaconess Qiu Yun, who wore the modest blue robes of the sect’s logistics division.

"We are thirty miles north of the Dragon-Spine Trench perimeter," Elder Cang Song rumbled, his heavy voice vibrating with righteous authority. "If we sail across the open water above the central rift, the blood-miasma wards laid by the Holy Nether Sea Organization will spot our fleet three hours before we reach the Fourth-Grade Spiritual Vein."

"Commander, you need not worry about the surface wards," Qiu Yun spoke up, stepping forward with a respectful bow. She placed a glowing sapphire jade slip onto the map table.

A detailed bathymetric projection rose into the air, displaying the deep-sea terrain beneath the waves. A bright green line snaked through a narrow, deep-earth fissure along the western flank of the trench.

"What is this route, Deaconess Qiu?" Elder Cang Song asked, leaning over the table.

"This is a confidential sea-floor survey chart purchased two weeks ago from the Golden-Tide Consortium’s senior cartographers," Qiu Yun explained smoothly, her expression a mask of earnest loyalty to the sect. "It maps the current flows through Howling Shark Gap. Ordinarily, the gap is avoided due to shifting cross-currents. However, the recent tectonic shift that exposed the Spiritual Vein also collapsed an upper ridge ten miles west, blocking the cross-current. Right now, Howling Shark Gap is a calm, current-free channel."

One of the senior deacons stroked his chin, examining the glowing green line. "If we submerge our forty sword-cruisers and eighty cutters using the Great Water-Parting Barriers, we can sail along the floor of Howling Shark Gap, bypass the demonic surface patrols, and emerge directly in front of the Spiritual Vein."

"The Consortium’s maps are always reliable," Elder Cang Song declared, slamming his fist onto the jade table. "They care only for Spirit Stones, and their surveyors know these waters better than anyone. Signal the fleet! Activate the Great Water-Parting Barriers and prepare to submerge toward Howling Shark Gap!"

"Yes, Commander!" the deacons chorused, while Qiu Yun lowered her head, concealing the cold glint in her eyes as she sent a silent pulse through a hidden talisman in her sleeve.

At that exact moment, twenty-five miles to the southeast, a fleet of twenty monstrous, bone-hulled blood-galleons sat anchored behind a towering underwater seamount, cloaked beneath a thick shroud of dark red blood-fog.

Inside the ribcage-lined war room of the flagship Crimson Scythe, Elder Xue Li—whose physical vessel was possessed by the ancient soul of the Yin Severing True Monarch—sat at the head of a bone table. Across from him stood Su Ning, the revered core genius of Blood Shark Hall, cradling her Purple Crystal Toxin Gourd in her arms, alongside two ferocious Late-Stage Core Formation elders of Blood Shark Hall, Elder Tuoba and Elder Huan.

Su Ning raised a glowing red locust-talisman that had just vibrated against her wrist. A seductive smile touched her dark-painted lips.

"The righteous sheep have altered their bearing," Su Ning announced to the room. "Our source inside the logistics division of the Azure Wave Sword Sect confirms that Elder Cang Song has ordered all forty sword-cruisers and eighty cutters to submerge. They will enter the northern mouth of Howling Shark Gap i