Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 937: Looting The Scripture Hall Entirely
Previously on Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist...
The massive stone entrance to the maintenance shaft slid shut, locking the desolate and ruined medicinal garden in shadows. Wang Jian and Sect Mistress Lianhua stepped out, returning to the crisp night air within the sect's inner grounds.
Moving with the stealth of shadows, they kept close to the dense tree line.
"There," Sect Mistress Lianhua whispered, her voice nearly drowned out by the rustling leaves. She gestured toward a magnificent, multi-leveled pagoda in the distance that shimmered with the faint light of defensive runes. "The Scripture Hall. It is the heart of our sect’s legacy. A thousand years of pill recipes and cultivation techniques are stored within those walls."
Wang Jian gave a sharp nod. He pulled her flush against his side, his arm firmly encircling her waist. The tight, black stealth suit she wore emphasized every curve of her body. Beneath his hand, he could feel the warmth of her skin and the soft yield of her flesh.
"Let’s go empty it," he murmured.
As they neared the perimeter, it became clear that the security here far surpassed that of the garden. Fu Yan obviously placed a higher premium on scrolls than on plants.
A dozen elite disciples, all possessing Foundation Establishment realm cultivation, patrolled in a meticulous, overlapping web. However, the formation posed the true danger.
A translucent, crimson barrier enveloped the entire structure, emitting a low, ominous vibration.
"That is the ’Five-Fire-Chains Array’," Lianhua noted, her gaze sharpening as she identified the lethal-grade formation. "It doesn't just obstruct; it uses spectral fire to incinerate anyone not recognized by its sensors. Those identification talismans... they look like recent additions. Fu Yan must have distributed them only to his most devoted followers."
From the darkness beneath a towering spirit-oak, Wang Jian observed the scene. His focus wasn't entirely on the array, however; his hand idly massaged Lianhua’s hip, his thumb tracing the line of her pelvic bone through the thin fabric.
"Their arrogance is their downfall," he remarked softly with a scoff. "Their patrol is sloppy and lazy. They believe the array will do all the work for them. While the formation is powerful, the energy nodes near the foundation are completely exposed. Amateurs."
Lianhua leaned back, pressing her weight into him. She arched her spine, her heavy breasts pushing against his chest. Rather than pulling away, she actively ground her buttocks against his thigh.
Her mind was caught in a dizzying haze. The adrenaline of the heist and the lingering sensations from his previous "healing" had fundamentally altered her state of mind.
’His confidence is staggering,’ she thought, a flush creeping up her neck. ’He looks at this impenetrable security and sees a game. And the way he holds me... as if I am his property, his prize.’
A jolt of dark thrill raced through her as she realized she didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to conquer this place. She wanted him to plunder her sect just as thoroughly as he had plundered her.
’I am his slut,’ she confessed to herself, a shiver of pleasure dancing down her spine. ’My body and my dignity belong to him. It feels... liberating. No more burdens of being Sect Mistress. Just... serving him. If I please him, he will protect me and spoil me, just like he does with Ruyan.’
She shifted her hips intentionally, rubbing against him.
Wang Jian smirked, sensing her silent invitation. He gave her hip a firm, bruising squeeze. "Save that for later, pet. We need a distraction first."
Reaching into his pouch, he retrieved a small mechanical device. It was a construct shaped like a rat, forged of dark metal and etched with movement runes—a trophy taken from a Silent Puppet Guild handler during the canyon ambush.
He channeled a wisp of his Qi into the device.
"Go," he whispered.
He tossed the mechanical rat, which landed without a sound before darting across the courtyard toward the opposite side of the pagoda.
It collided with a stack of decorative armor, creating a loud CLATTER-CRASH.
"What was that?!" a guard yelled, spinning toward the noise.
"Over by the east wall!"
"Intruder or beast? Check it!"
"Now," Wang Jian commanded.
He moved with sudden speed. Eschewing a violent breach, he activated his Void-Merging Breath.
His silhouette blurred as he pulled Lianhua along, enveloping her in his aura. Like ghosts, they slipped through the opening in the patrol line.
They reached the building's base, where the red barrier hummed just inches away.
Wang Jian knelt before one of the exposed nodes—a stone pillar radiating intense heat.
He slapped a "Qi-Siphoning Talisman" onto the stone and immediately concealed it with an illusion talisman.
"The array won't collapse yet," he whispered. "It will silently bleed power over the next few hours. By daybreak, the barrier will fail, throwing Fu Yan into even greater chaos."
They advanced to the main entrance, where two bored-looking guards remained.
Wang Jian circled behind them without drawing a weapon.
THWACK. THWACK.
Two precise strikes to their carotid arteries sent the guards into unconsciousness before they could even hit the floor. Wang Jian caught them, laying them down quietly.
They stood before the massive, rune-covered double doors of the Scripture Hall.
"The seal requires the Sect Master’s blood," Lianhua whispered, stepping forward. She bit her thumb and pressed her palm against the locking mechanism. "Only I can grant us entry."
The array flickered, then suddenly flashed a violent, angry red. A surge of repelling force knocked her hand back.
"What?" she gasped, staring in shock. "How can this be? I am the Sect Mistress! My blood signature is the core key!"
"He’s replaced it," Wang Jian stated coldly. "Fu Yan must have reached the control node and deleted your access. He’s more thorough than I thought."
Lianhua looked crushed. "Then we are locked out. Without the key..."
"A blood seal? How primitive," Wang Jian scoffed, stepping toward the door. "Move aside, Lianhua. Watch how a true master handles a lock."
He placed his hands against the surface. Instead of using force, he funneled his Stellar Qi into the array’s matrix in thin, dark tendrils.
Closing his eyes, he mapped out the logic of the formation. It was a complex web of identity checks.
’It’s looking for a blood frequency,’ he realized. ’But every array has a maintenance protocol—a backdoor for when the master is unavailable.’
He located the loop and flooded the sensors with a Qi frequency that mimicked the sect’s maintenance puppets.
"Open," he ordered.
The rune-etched doors trembled as the red light shifted to green. With a soft hiss of air, they slid apart.
Lianhua looked at him with eyes full of worship. "You... you bypassed the Ancestral Seal? In mere seconds?"
"I told you," he grinned, swatting her backside as he walked in. "I have my secrets."
They entered a vast cathedral of knowledge. Shelves reached toward the rafters, packed with thousands of jade slips, scrolls, and ancient books—the total wisdom of the Crimson Pill Sect’s alchemy and cultivation history.
"It’s all here," Lianhua whispered in awe.
Wang Jian surveyed the massive hoard of loot.
"We haven't the time to sort through this junk," he decided. "We're taking everything."
He reached the first shelf and swept his arm across it. His high-grade spatial pouch flared with light.
WOOSH.
An entire section of scrolls was sucked into the void of the pouch.
"We can read them later," he said, moving to the next row. "Start packing, Lianhua. Take anything shiny or ancient."
He was a whirlwind of motion. Within minutes, the great hall began to look like a hollowed-out shell as shelf after shelf was stripped bare.
Lianhua assisted, but her focus wavered. She couldn't stop watching his powerful, decisive movements.
She approached him as he cleared a section on fire-attribute arts, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing against his back.
"Master is so formidable," she purred, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. She arched her back, ensuring her breasts were pressed firmly against him.
Wang Jian glanced back at her. "Not now, pet. Focus on the work."
"But I want to help," she whispered, her hand drifting down to graze his trousers. "Watching you take all of this... it makes me... wet."
Wang Jian chuckled, catching her hand and kissing the palm. "Hold that thought. Once the Cauldron is ours, I’ll ruin you properly. Now, keep looting."
She giggled—a girlish sound that seemed out of place—and resumed gathering scrolls, her hips swaying with exaggerated motion in hopes of catching his eye.
The outer shelves were soon empty, leaving the hall echoing with silence.
"Is that the lot?" Wang Jian asked, looking around the barren library.
"No," Sect Mistress Lianhua said, her voice dropping to a reverent tone. She walked toward the center of the room. "The core techniques... the Crimson Pill Sect's true legacy... the ones reserved only for the Sect Master and personal disciples... they aren't kept on the shelves."
She pointed to a lone jade pedestal where a single, ancient scroll sat within a shimmering cage of light.
"It is in the central repository," she explained. "That is the ’Nine-Heavens Pill Scripture’. It is the very foundation of our sect."
Wang Jian approached, his eyes gleaming with greed.
"Careful, Jian," she warned, catching his sleeve. "The Founder’s ’Nine-Flame Seal’ protects it. It’s a trap. Only the Sect Master’s aura can open it. If you touch it incorrectly, it will release..."
Wang Jian didn't wait for her to finish. Driven by impatience and hunger, he reached through the light barrier and grabbed the scroll.
WHOOSH!
The trap triggered instantly. Nine tongues of searing, white-hot azure flame erupted from the pedestal, striking like cobras to destroy the hand that dared touch the legacy.
It was a fragment of a Heavenly Flame, preserved for centuries.
But his hand was not burned.
Wang Jian’s Stellar Qi surged. Instead of blocking the attack, he opened a path. A swirling vortex of dark, celestial energy formed around his hand—a black hole of cultivation power.
The azure flames were instantly pulled into the vortex.
SLURP.
The sound was visceral. The terrifying fire was swallowed whole, consumed by Wang Jian’s technique.
Lianhua stared, her jaw dropping. "You... you ate the Founder’s flame seal? That was a wisp of the Azure Sky-Heart Flame! It should have reduced you to ash!"
Wang Jian simply smirked. He could feel the fire-essence nourishing his core and strengthening his Meridians.
"Tasty," he said, licking his lips. "Quite spicy."
He stowed the priceless scripture in his pouch. "Let's move out."
Lianhua watched him, her pupils dilating. ’He isn't just a cultivator,’ she thought, her heart racing. ’He is a monster. A terrifying, beautiful, all-consuming monster. And he’s mine.’
A wave of arousal nearly made her knees give way. The sheer display of dominance was overwhelming.
"One last thing," Wang Jian said, looking over the desecrated hall.
"We need to leave a message and hide our trail."
He produced several "Spiritual Interference Bombs" and began priming them, adjusting their rune sequences with his Qi.
"I'm setting these for a three-day delay," he murmured.
He moved through the room, planting the devices under empty shelves and near structural pillars.
"When these detonate, the hall will collapse. The resulting surge of chaotic Qi will prevent anyone from tracking us or using temporal retracing. It will look like a total array failure."
Returning to the pedestal, he took out a vial of corrosive acid.
With a steady hand, he etched a symbol into the jade: a sword, the mark of the Azure Sword Clan.
"More evidence for Fu Yan," he laughed. "Let him believe his allies got greedy while he was occupied."
"You are truly devious," Lianhua whispered in admiration.
"I am practical," he replied. "Now, take my hand. It's time to go."
He grasped her hand. "The Cauldron. Lead me to it."
They slipped out, leaving the guards still dreaming by the door.
"Now, Jian," Sect Mistress Lianhua whispered, her voice shaking with excitement. "The final prize: The Crimson Dragon Cauldron."
"Lead the way," he said.
She bypassed the treasury and main halls, leading him instead up a hidden, overgrown path behind the mountain.
"Where are we headed?"
"To my old quarters," she replied. "The place I lived as a core disciple before I became Sect Mistress. It’s been empty for fifty years. No one comes here."
They arrived at a dusty, unassuming cave dwelling. Inside, Lianhua moved a heavy stone bed with a grunt of effort.
Beneath it lay a trapdoor secured by a lock that required alchemical reagents rather than Qi.
She bit her finger again, smearing blood on the lock while breathing a specific sequence onto the mechanism.
Click.
The door opened to reveal a dark, winding stone staircase leading deep into the earth.
"The founder built this as a final sanctuary," she explained, lighting a flame in her hand. "He didn't trust those who would follow him. He was a wise man."
They descended for ten minutes as the air grew hot and the smell of sulfur intensified.
Finally, they entered a massive natural cavern. The walls were bathed in a dull red glow from a river of magma flowing below.
In the center, resting on an obsidian platform held over the lava by giant chains, was the prize.
The Crimson Dragon Cauldron.
It was stunning—ten feet of dark, blood-red metal that seemed to drink the light. Two intricately carved dragons coiled around it, their ruby eyes glowing with a strange intelligence.
"It’s... alive," Wang Jian whispered. He could feel the ancient, powerful spirit within. It was an Earth-grade treasure on the verge of becoming Sky-grade.
"Only the Sect Master’s blood and a specific mudra can control it," Lianhua said.
She stepped onto the platform and approached the cauldron. Her fingers became a blur as she performed complex hand seals and chanted a rhythmic mantra.
She pressed her palm to the metal.
HUMMMMM.
The artifact trembled, and the dragons' eyes flashed. With a deep groan that shook the cavern, the massive cauldron began to shrink, its metal compressing rapidly.
Within seconds, it was the size of a teacup in her palm, dense with concentrated power.
She turned to Wang Jian without a hint of hesitation, her eyes filled only with devotion.
She offered the tiny cauldron to him.
"It is yours, Master. The soul of my sect. I give it to you."
Wang Jian took it, his heart racing with intense greed. He held a millennium of history in his palm.
He marveled at its power for a moment before looking at her. He stowed the cauldron away.
He pulled Lianhua into a rough, possessive kiss.
"You’ve earned a reward," he growled.
He pushed her back against the warm obsidian.
"Right here?" she panted, looking at the magma.
"Right here."
There wasn't time for a full encounter, but he spent five minutes manhandling her. He reached under her clothes, groping her skin while kissing her neck and chest. He ground his hips into hers, letting her feel his satisfaction. It was a rough, standing down payment on the night of pleasure he had promised.
"You did well, Lianhua," he growled, squeezing her breast firmly. "Very well."
"Thank you, Master," she gasped, her head falling back.
He pulled away, his breath heavy. "Let's go. We're finished here. We have everything."
They retreated up the stairs, sealing the chamber. They left behind a dying, hollowed-out sect, having stripped it of its past, its present, and its future.