Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 945: Ancient Teleportation Formation

The firmament above the State of Yue's frontier no longer resembled the heavens. It had transformed into a bruised, pulsating tapestry of violet and scarlet, shredded by energies so immense that the peaks below shuddered in terror. The arrival of the five Great Demonic Sects from the State of Qin had utterly demolished the grueling deadlock between the Azure Sword Clan and the Mystic Peak Sect, turning a war of attrition into a literal apocalypse.

High above the clouds, far beyond the sight of mere disciples, the Nascent Soul Ancestors engaged in combat. Every few moments, a titanic shockwave would descend from the celestial heights, leveling forests and incinerating entire battalions of cultivators caught in the path of destruction. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of sulfur, copper, and the sickeningly sweet stench of rotting demonic qi.

Deep within the hidden sanctuary of the Iron-Root Hollow, the mood was somber yet disciplined. The external defensive arrays, reinforced by treasures seized from the Crimson Pill Sect, vibrated with a steady hum, successfully blocking the most violent spiritual pressure from the outside world.

Wang Jian stood at the center of the great hall. His calm demeanor served as a sharp contrast to the hysteria currently consuming the cultivation world. He was surrounded by his inner circle—a gathering of power and beauty that would provoke the envy of any emperor.

To his right stood Yue Lingshan, her complexion pale as she monitored the failing defensive perimeters on a projection map. To his left, Sect Mistress Mu Lianhua maintained a respectful gap while emitting a formidable aura. Further back, Chen Ying leaned against a stone pillar with her arms folded, while Liu Ruyan busied herself organizing a collection of emergency pills. The three Shadow Flowers—Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue—remained kneeling in attendance, while five married maids, overseen by Li Mei, stood prepared to provide tea or armaments at a moment's notice.

"Husband," Yue Lingshan spoke, her voice shaking slightly as she indicated a failing sector on the map. "The northern line of defense... it has collapsed. The Blood Soul Pavilion has surged through. We received a final transmission from Deacon Zhang. They are massacring everyone. Should we... should we move to assist the retreat? Thousands of Mystic Peak disciples are currently cornered in that valley."

Wang Jian shifted his gaze from the map to his wife. Though his eyes softened upon meeting hers, his tone remained unwavering.

"No, Lingshan. We cannot do that."

"But—"

"Observe the energy readings," Wang Jian said, gently cutting her off. He gestured toward the ceiling where array monitors tracked the celestial shockwaves. "The scale of this conflict has changed. This is no longer a war of soldiers; it is a battle between gods. Those Nascent Soul shockwaves... a single stray blast could annihilate everyone here who has not reached the Core Formation realm. If we attempt to play the hero out there, we die. And if we perish, there is no hope for rebuilding."

He turned to face the entire assembly, his posture shifting into that of a commanding leader. "Survival is our only priority. To achieve that, we must take a path that avoids the meat grinder."

With a wave of his hand, he cleared the battle lines from the map and produced a smaller, specialized tracking talisman that radiated a soft, golden glow.

"We have identified a new objective," Wang Jian declared. "We aren't hunting Demons today. We are trailing a specific individual."

He pointed toward a lone signal moving erratically near the borders of the Azure Sword Clan's lands.

"A disciple of the Azure Sword Clan named Ye Fan."

Chen Ying’s brow furrowed. "The ’Undefeatable Monster’? Why him? Trouble follows him like a shadow."

Wang Jian nodded, spinning his deception with the skill of a master. "Exactly. I have watched this Ye Fan for a long time. His luck is unnatural. He enters death traps only to emerge with ancient legacies. He wanders into random caves and discovers spirit veins. During a great catastrophe, when the heavens themselves are falling, following someone who defies destiny is often the only way to survive."

He looked at the group with gravity. "He uncovers treasures where none should exist and finds exits where others see only walls. He is the compass that will lead us through this chaos."

Yue Lingshan remained skeptical but chose to trust her husband's intuition. "If you believe he can lead us to safety..."

"I am certain of it," Wang Jian replied firmly.

He then turned his attention to Mu Lianhua. The former Sect Mistress stood with an elegant poise, dressed in the modest, high-collared robes Wang Jian required her to wear in his wife's presence. However, Wang Jian was well aware of what those clothes concealed—the bruises from his hands, the marks of his teeth, and the Slave Seal binding her soul to his will.

"Elder Mu," Wang Jian spoke respectfully. "Your spiritual sense is the most potent among us, far exceeding my own. The battlefield is currently saturated with chaotic energies that obscure normal detection. Can you lock onto him? Can you track this one disciple through a sea of a million warriors without being noticed by the Demonic experts?"

Mu Lianhua performed a graceful bow. "I can, Deacon Wang," she answered in a professional, smooth tone. "This Ye Fan... his aura is unique. It glow with a strange, golden fire. It is intense, almost aggressive. While he may hide it from those at his own rank, to a Core Formation cultivator specifically searching for it, he is as visible as a beacon in the darkness."

"Perfect," Wang Jian said. "Then the decision is made."

He clapped his hands together. "Pack everything. Leave nothing behind. We are vacating Iron-Root Hollow. We will remain mobile and follow Ye Fan."

The command sent the women into a flurry of motion. The maids began stowing bedding and kitchen supplies into storage bags, while the Shadow Flowers secured the weaponry.

Amidst the activity, Wang Jian moved toward Liu Ruyan as she packed a crate of medicinal herbs. Yue Lingshan was occupied discussing travel formations with Chen Ying.

Wang Jian reached out, his hand sliding down Liu Ruyan’s back with familiarity before coming to rest firmly on her buttocks. He gave a hard squeeze.

"Are you ready for a journey, little alchemist?" he whispered, his voice low enough to escape other ears.

Liu Ruyan’s face flushed as she leaned into his hand, her eyes scanning the room to ensure Lingshan wasn't looking. "I am always ready for you, Jian," she whispered in return. "Where are we truly headed?"

"To a new world," he said with a smirk, his thumb tracing the curve of her body through the fabric. "To a place with fresh resources. And new beds."

He withdrew his hand just before Lingshan turned back, his expression instantly shifting back to a mask of serious leadership.

A few minutes later, the entire party was gathered outside the cave.

"Formation," Wang Jian commanded.

"Elder Mu, you will take the lead with me," he directed. "Senior Sister Chen, Junior Sister Ruyan, protect our flanks. Lingshan, you are responsible for the rear and the maids. Shadow Flowers, scout ahead but keep us in your sight."

They departed, leaving the safety of their hideout to enter the wilderness bordering the ongoing apocalypse.

Eventually, they reached a high ridge overlooking scorched plains where the Azure Sword Clan was engaged in a desperate rearguard battle against the Ten Thousand Poison Valley.

Mu Lianhua channeled a technique, her eyes glowing with an azure light. She shared her spiritual vision with Wang Jian through a linked jade slip.

Through her eyes, Wang Jian spotted him.

Ye Fan.

The protagonist was fighting in a canyon below, wielding a massive black heavy sword that resembled a slab of raw iron. He swung the weapon with incredible speed, cutting through the poisonous constructs of his foes. Golden flames enveloped his frame, incinerating the toxic mist that was suffocating other cultivators.

"He is a skilled fighter," Chen Ying observed from the flank. "He is actively saving his fellow sect members."

Indeed, Ye Fan appeared to be everywhere at once—intercepting fatal strikes aimed at junior disciples and boosting the morale of the Azure Sword defenders. He looked every bit the hero, a light in the dark.

"Just watch," Wang Jian said simply.

They followed him for three days. Moving parallel to the conflict, they stayed concealed within the rugged landscape, sleeping in shifts while always keeping the golden flicker of Ye Fan’s aura at the edge of their perception.

During those three days, Wang Jian found ways to amuse himself. The tension of the chase and the distant thunder of war provided a backdrop for his private indulgences.

One night, while Yue Lingshan took the first watch in a thicket of spirit-bamboo, Wang Jian entered the tent shared by Liu Ruyan and Mu Lianhua.

He found Mu Lianhua in meditation. Without speaking, he forced her down onto the bedroll. There was no time to undress her, so he simply hiked up her robes, drowning out her protests with a harsh kiss. He took her with a brutal efficiency, his hands silencing her moans as he vented the stress of command upon her submissive body. Liu Ruyan watched from the corner, her eyes gleaming in the shadows as she touched herself while watching her Master use her Teacher.

These stolen moments of depravity were what kept Wang Jian focused. They served as a reminder that no matter how much the world fell into chaos, he remained the one in control.

On the third day, a change occurred.

"He is shifting course," Mu Lianhua reported, her brow knitting together. "He... he has stopped fighting."

Wang Jian observed through the spiritual link. Ye Fan was no longer rushing to the aid of disciples. He was now navigating the fringes of the battle. He ignored the desperate cries of a group of Azure Sword disciples being surrounded by Blood Soul puppets. Instead of intervening, he used the chaos as a screen to disappear into a side canyon.

"He’s leaving them behind," Chen Ying whispered in surprise.

"He’s being practical," Wang Jian countered. "He realizes the battle is already lost. He’s minimizing his losses."

Ye Fan began to move with a singular, driving intent. He wasn't retreating with the main forces; he was breaking away entirely, heading toward the desolate, rocky terrain known as the "Dead Zone"—a region drained of spiritual energy that both sects avoided.

"He is fleeing," Wang Jian said, a predatory smile crossing his face as he watched the golden mark on his map move away from the war zone. "And he isn't running aimlessly. He knows exactly where he is going."

"Follow him," Wang Jian ordered. "Close the gap, but stay out of sight. If he detects us, he might change his plans."

The Dead Zone was aptly named. The ground was cracked and grey, completely barren of life. The wind whistled through hollow stone formations with a sound like weeping spirits.

They trailed Ye Fan for half a day into the wasteland. Mu Lianhua was forced to constantly refine their concealment array, using the local dust and shadows to ensure Ye Fan’s heightened protagonist senses didn't pick up on the group following him.

"He has stopped," Mu Lianhua signaled.

They crept to a ridge's edge. Below them was the entrance to a derelict Spirit Stone mine. The supports were crumbling, and the entrance was partially blocked. An ancient sign, weathered by centuries of wind, warned of hauntings and instability.

Ye Fan stood at the entrance, his posture tense with paranoia as he looked around. He didn't enter through the main tunnel. Instead, he climbed a pile of debris and vanished into a narrow, collapsed ventilation crack that was nearly invisible from below.

"He’s gone inside," Liu Ruyan whispered.

"We follow," Wang Jian commanded. "Activate stealth protocols. Lingshan, maintain a sound-dampening barrier. We must be silent."

One by one, they entered the fissure.

The interior air was cold and stagnant, smelling of old dust and sulfur. It was absolute darkness.

Wang Jian took the lead, using a glow-stone that provided only a dim light. He raised a hand to signal a stop.

"Look at the ground," he whispered to Chen Ying.

Faint footprints were visible in the thick dust, along with scratches on the walls and evidence of traps that had been neutralized long ago.

"He has been here before," Wang Jian concluded. "Or he possesses a map."

They moved through the winding tunnels, a labyrinth designed to kill the unwary. False paths led to unstable ceilings, and dead ends fell into pits. Yet Ye Fan guided himself with impossible accuracy. He bypassed every natural hazard, avoided hidden pressure plates, and steered clear of the dens of sleeping subterranean monsters.

"How does he know the way?" Yue Lingshan wondered, stepping carefully where Wang Jian indicated.

"Luck," Wang Jian sneered quietly. "And destiny."

As they descended deeper, the temperature rose and the sulfurous smell grew stronger.

They reached a wide section of the tunnel marked by deep gouges in the stone and black scorch marks.

"A fight happened here," Chen Ying noted, touching a slash in the rock. "Sword marks from a heavy sword."

"Is it recent?" Wang Jian asked.

"Very," she replied with a nod. "Within the last hour. He encountered something here, but he disposed of the body."

"He is clearing the way," Wang Jian remarked. "Whatever lies at the end, he is in a hurry to reach it."

Finally, the tunnel opened into a massive natural cavern. The ceiling was lost in the high shadows, and the spiritual energy felt metallic, sharp, and chaotic.

In the center of the cavern, surrounded by stalagmites, was a structure that seemed out of place in a mine.

It was a wide, circular stone platform set upon a dais. Though covered in centuries of grime, complex runes beneath the filth glowed with a faint, dormant light.

Yue Lingshan gasped, her instincts as an array master triggered. She gripped Wang Jian’s arm.

"Husband," she whispered urgently. "That... that is an Ancient Teleportation Formation!"

She squinted to analyze the runes from their distance. "The design is archaic, pre-dating our Sect. And the complexity... this isn't for local travel. It is a Continental-Grade Array."

"Continental?" Wang Jian inquired.

"It can cross millions of miles," she said in awe. "It could transport someone to the far side of the world."

Below them, Ye Fan stepped onto the platform. He didn't look lost; he looked relieved. He dropped his heavy sword with a loud clang and fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

Then, he began pulling items from his storage bag—high-grade spirit stones, rare ores, and a specific array flag.

He began fitting the materials into the empty sockets on the platform. His movements were practiced and efficient; he knew exactly how to fix it.

Wang Jian watched as a cold realization took hold.

'He was prepared for this,' Wang Jian thought. 'He knew the State of Yue was finished, or he had always planned to leave. While everyone else fought over scraps, the Son of Luck found the exit to a higher-level map.'

"Should we stop him?" Liu Ruyan whispered, a blade appearing in her hand. "If he triggers it, he'll be gone."

"No," Wang Jian replied, raising his hand. "Let him finish the work. He has the supplies, and we don't. Why should we labor when the Son of Luck can do it for us?"

He smiled like a vulture watching its prey. "We wait for the hum. We wait for the door to open."

As Ye Fan worked frantically below, Wang Jian and Mu Lianhua surveyed the rest of the chamber.

"This area..." Mu Lianhua murmured, her eyes locked on a dark corner. "It wasn't just a room for the array. It was a nest."

In the corner lay a massive pile of metallic secretions, crushed stone, and fragments of a shed exoskeleton. It was the bedding of a nightmare creature.

Mu Lianhua silently glided to a closer ledge to examine a piece of the discarded carapace. She returned shortly after.

"I have identified the former occupant," she said. "The aura is Sharp Metal Qi—very aggressive. This was the territory of a Dark Gold-Scythe Mantis."

"A Dark Gold-Scythe Mantis?" Yue Lingshan turned pale. "A beast at the peak of Foundation Establishment? Nearly Core Formation?"

"Yes," Mu Lianhua confirmed. "Its blades can slice through high-grade defensive items like they are paper. It is incredibly territorial. Nothing enters its den and survives."

Wang Jian looked at the empty nest and then at a pile of ash near the platform where Ye Fan was working. He narrowed his eyes.

"The creature is gone," he observed. "And look at those scorch marks and that ash pile."

He sharpened his focus. The marks were old. Very old.

"Ye Fan didn't kill it today," Wang Jian realized. "He killed it years ago. Look at the dust that has settled over the battle scars."

Chen Ying evaluated the ash with a warrior's eye. "He likely harvested its scythes and beast core back then. Those would be prime materials for a heavy sword or a metal-attribute physique."

Wang Jian nodded slowly. "That confirms it. He found this place long ago. He slew the guardian when he was much weaker—likely using a trap or a secret trump card. He’s been holding onto this escape route for years."

It was a chilling display of the protagonist’s foresight and depth.

Suddenly, the cavern began to vibrate.

VRMMMMMM.

The dust on the ground began to dance in geometric patterns. The faded runes on the stone dais flared to life, incinerating centuries of grime with a brilliant silver light. The air twisted and space itself seemed to groan as the ancient machine awakened.

Ye Fan stood up, wiping sweat from his brow with a look of immense relief. He produced a handful of High-Grade Spirit Stones—a massive fortune—and slotted them into the central power source.

The space above the dais began to warp, forming a swirling vortex of white light.

Wang Jian’s eyes gleamed.

"Now!" he ordered.

"Go!"

Wang Jian’s group burst forward.