Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 953: Attack On The Fragrance Melody Sect

Darkness draped the Isle of Whispering Petals like a silken veil, offering false calm and alluring scents. Breezes chilled the air, bearing hints of jasmine flowers opening under the stars and the faint brine from far-off waves. Up from the lower valley's disciple halls floated tender, harmonious zither strings and ethereal bamboo flute tones on the gusts—a daily evening ritual that crafted a safeguarding net of auditory spiritual power over the sect.

Within the opulent visitor's hall close to the peak, Wang Jian perched at a table carved from gleaming spirit-wood. He cradled a steaming teacup, his face calm as he stared at the moon-kissed sea. Opposite him, Yue Lingshan examined a array sketch, her forehead creased in focus, while Chen Ying honed her Gale-Severing Frostblade with steady, scraping metallic sounds. Liu Ruyan and Mu Lianhua rested close by, cultivating in silence, yet alert to any hint of trouble.

"The music sounds lovely tonight," Yue Lingshan whispered, her finger outlining a symbol on the scroll. "Their cultivation technique syncs with the world's natural flows. It generates a highly steady ambient Qi field."

Wang Jian sipped his tea deliberately, concealing the sharp, hunter-like spark in his gaze behind the cup's edge. "True. Such peace... it begs for interruption."

In his thoughts, he noted the hour. Per the note from Su Ning that morning, the Iron-Blood Hall had completed their setup. The payoff was taken. The snare was ready.

He placed the cup aside. Three... two... one.

BOOM!

A devastating blast ripped apart the night's quiet.

The blast originated from the southern bluffs, where the sect's third defense point stood. The pavilion's floor heaved wildly, toppling tea and shattering pots. A column of scarlet flames laced with tainted blood-qi shot upward, slashing the serene night like a brutal gash. The valley's harmonious tunes halted abruptly, overtaken by cries of alarm and panic.

Over the southern area, the heavens shifted to a swollen, furious crimson as the mighty protective barrier—the Thousand-Petal Guardian Formation—wavered, creaked, and then broke in that zone. The shield broke into vanishing specks of glow, creating a wide rent in the sect's safeguards.

Wang Jian rose swiftly, shoving his seat away. He forced his eyes wide, wearing a facade of deliberate fright and noble outrage.

"An assault?!" he bellowed, his tone filled with astonishment. "How did the array crumble so utterly? No alerts from the perimeter detectors!"

Yue Lingshan jumped up, her cheeks paling. She drew her primary array compass, her hands darting across the whirling controls. The indicators whirled chaotically.

"The southern point..." she breathed, her words shaky. "It wasn't destroyed by external strikes, husband! The spirit link was cut from within! Someone disabled the local barriers and triggered the anchors!"

"Betrayal," Wang Jian snarled, his features hardening. He faced her, clasping her arms tightly. "Lingshan, you're the sole expert on these arrays capable of preserving the rest. Head to the backup array hub by the falls! Apply your skills to steady the surviving structure. Should the surge expand, the entire shield will fail, leaving the sect exposed!"

"But... what of you? The foes..." Lingshan faltered, eyeing the haze billowing from the south.

"We'll defend the front," Wang Jian directed, his command brooking no debate. "Go now! Fetch the Shadow Leopard and Iron-Hide Rhino from the animal enclosure for your guard. Let no one near you!"

"Stay safe, Jian!" Yue Lingshan called out. She called forth the pair of Fourth Order creatures from her spirit pouch—a lithe, shadowy leopard and a hulking, plated rhino—and dashed from the hall, bound for the secondary hub, her mind gripped by worry for her spouse and resolve to mend the array.

Once she vanished from view, Wang Jian's face relaxed. The alarm faded, giving way to the composed, frosty poise of a strategist.

"Prepare to move," he instructed, his tone even and lethal.

He addressed his women. "Senior Sister Chen, Junior Sister Ruyan, Elder Mu. Invaders are surging through. The Iron-Blood Hall deploys their core troops. We need to stall until the Fragrance Melody Sect recovers from the surprise. Release the beasts. Every one."

Via the torn opening in the southern heavens, shadowy forms swarmed downward. Scores of Iron-Blood Hall followers, mounted on blood-crystal flying swords, flooded the sect like a plague of insects. Trailing them were scores of Foundation Establishment Deacons, their presences merging into a choking fog of murderous aura.

At their forefront, cackling wildly, flew four silhouettes exuding the dread might of the Core Formation Realm. The assault's spearhead.

"Slaughter the females! Plunder the vaults! Tonight, the Fragrance Melody Sect crumbles!" one Demonic Elder thundered, his cry boosted by sorcery, rattling the peaks themselves.

Wang Jian advanced to the veranda, his spirit awareness scanning the turmoil below. Fragrance Melody Sect members resisted, yet chaos reigned among them. Graceful women in billowing garments brandished zithers, pipas, and flutes. They strummed cords and piped tones that birthed slashing waves of sound power, slicing the winds.

Twang!

A barrage of audio edges carved through the lead demonic foes, ripping them asunder. The Fragrance Melody followers weren't feeble; their auditory techniques packed real power.

Yet the Iron-Blood Hall arrived equipped.

"Deploy the Silence-Blood Talismans!" a demonic deacon yelled.

Scores of attackers crushed crimson slips. A thick, suppressing aura spread, stifling noises. The sound edges dulled, shedding their deadliness short of their marks. The fiends chuckled, pushing past the feeble assault to clash with the women in savage hand-to-hand fights.

Wang Jian's stare fixed on a precise spot by the gap.

Amid the debris of a lookout tower, a solitary white-clad form waged a frantic struggle. It was Hua Ling, the Young Sect Mistress.

Even amid combat, she shone brightly, her pale battle attire dotted with foe's blood. She gripped a jade flute, wielding it as a blade to parry strikes while firing sharp sound blasts that dazed her assailants. Yet she was outnumbered. Three Late-Stage Foundation Establishment Deacons from Iron-Blood Hall encircled her.

"I will rescue the Young Sect Mistress," Wang Jian declared, a sly gleam in his gaze. "She holds the sect's tomorrow. Elder Mu, proceed to the central summit and aid Sect Leader Hua Yimei versus their powerhouses. Conceal your full strength, but ensure Yimei endures. Chen Ying, Ruyan, defend this position. Instill terror in them."

"Understood, Master," they replied in unison.

Liu Ruyan and Chen Ying moved to the pavilion's platform edge. They grasped the elite, top-tier Beast Bags on their belts.

"Come forth!"

A bellow rocked the hall's base, a raw cry overpowering the clashes beneath.

Two Thunderclap Wolves emerged, their coats sparking azure bolts. A Venomous Swamp Toad as vast as a wagon appeared, oozing violet muck. A Crimson-Eye Fire Bat wailed, soaring aloft. These Fourth Order beasts matched Late Stage Foundation Establishment experts.

But they formed merely the front line.

The atmosphere thickened. An enormous shade eclipsed the moon.

The Sky-Ripper Eagle wailed, its wings spanning thirty meters, plumage sharp as iron edges. The Black-Scaled Flood Serpent unwound, a colossal stream of sinew and hide, bellowing like a tidal crash. An Obsidian-Back Earth Bear thumped down, splitting stone, towering twenty feet. Lastly, the Azure-Fin Tidal Python emerged, conjuring a water orb about itself.

Four Fifth Order Spirit Beasts. Four beings on par with Initial Stage Core Formation masters.

This abrupt unleashing of elite beasts for the defenders rippled shock across the Iron-Blood Hall's forces.

"Beasts?! Elite Spirit Beasts?!" one Demonic Elder howled. "Our scouts reported only instruments and blooms! How did these horrors appear?!"

"Destroy them!" Wang Jian commanded.

He vaulted from the rail, propelling into the sky. No flying sword for him; he soared on a pad of refined Stellar Qi, racing toward the trapped Young Mistress.

Amid the southern tower's rubble, Hua Ling panted heavily. Her spirit power ebbed rapidly.

"Surrender, Young Mistress!" one demonic deacon sneered, his visage marred and grotesque. He lashed a chain of hardened blood. "Blood-Chain Bind!"

The chain lashed forth, coiling around Hua Ling’s flute, seeking to yank it free.

"Never!" Hua Ling shouted, pouring her leftover Qi into a sound wave that snapped the chain. But the move exposed her.

The next deacon charged from the rear, his jagged saber targeting her limbs. "The Hall Master allows us fun with her first! Spare the features!"

Hua Ling’s gaze flared with dread. She couldn't ward it off. Eyes shut, she braced for agony.

BOOM!

A shaft of shadowy, gem-like force hammered from above.

The charging deacon vanished from the midsection upward. His skull and chest burst into crimson spray beneath the Stellar Qi's smash.

Hua Ling's eyes snapped open, guarding her face from the splatter.

A presence dropped from the clouds like a divine warrior. His dark garments whipped in the wild gales, and his blade droned with a rumble deeper than storms.

It was Wang Jian.

He touched down amid her and the surviving deacons. He ignored her; his stare pinned the threats, icy and pitiless.

"You dare lay hands on her?" Wang Jian rumbled, his words quaking with feigned, valiant rage.

The leftover deacons wavered, chilled by their ally's swift end. "Who... who are you?"

Wang Jian struck. No words from him. He reined his pace to Late Stage Foundation Establishment for show of effort, yet his moves were perfect.

He evaded a blood-slash, form blurring like mist. His sword gleamed—a clean, rising slice.

The initial deacon’s weapon broke. The edge pressed on, cleaving him in two.

The final deacon bolted. Wang Jian whirled, unleashing a spinning kick loaded with dense gravity Qi. The deacon rocketed like a shot, crashing into a ruined barrier with impact to pulverize his skeleton.

Three foes. Three breaths.

Wang Jian faced Hua Ling. He slid his sword away, his look warming to earnest worry.

"Young Mistress! Are you injured?" he queried, hurrying close and extending his palm.

Hua Ling gaped at him, her pulse thundering in her chest. Amid gore and terror, he appeared as a heavenly savior dispatched for her.

"Young Master Wang..." she sighed, clasping his hand. "I... I'm unharmed. You rescued me."

"Safety isn't assured," Wang Jian urged, glancing skyward. A huge blast from clashing arts shook the air close by. Rubble showered. "These blasts will end you! The array wavers!"

"To the core sanctuary we go!" Hua Ling exclaimed.

"No chance to flee!" Wang Jian yelled as a globe of blood-flame curved their way. "Pardon me!"

He seized her slim waist. He sensed her tense briefly, but she yielded. Channeling power, he hurled them skyward, speeding to a remote tower hugging a cliff face, distant from the central fray.

While soaring, dodging the frenzied field, Wang Jian drew her snug to his torso. Winds howled past.

"Grip tight!" he shouted.

He veered abruptly to evade a rogue flying sword. In the turn, his arm "shifted."

His broad palm left her waist, gliding up to settle boldly on her right breast. No light brush; he fully enveloped the ample, yielding swell, digits pressing mildly as he "steadied" amid the jostles.

Hua Ling inhaled sharply, cheeks blazing red under the dim moon. The touch sparked like lightning—startling and close. Yet in the deadly turmoil, with bursts flowering nearby, her thoughts excused it right away. He's protecting me. It was an accident. He must hold firm.

She refrained from shoving. Rather, she held him closer, hiding her face in his collar, form molding to his. She sensed his solid pectorals, the beat of his pulse. For the first since the raid started, security enveloped her.

Wang Jian's inner thoughts strayed far from virtue. He relished the feel—the wondrous give of her shapes, the substantial heft of her breast in his grasp, the floral aroma blended with her anxious perspiration. He pressed a bit, faking response to a close call, delighting in her faint mewl.

They arrived at the cliff tower. Wang Jian alighted on the ledge, sliding to stop. He lingered, holding her near an extra moment before releasing.

"Are you well?" he inquired, checking her for wounds.

"I... yes," Hua Ling stuttered, smoothing her attire, cheeks aflame. "Thank you, Young Master."

Abruptly, Wang Jian's gaze sharpened.

"Watch out!"

He whirled her behind him, shielding her from the exposed air.

A wandering blood-arrow, loosed by a remote bowman, streaked at them. Wang Jian might have parried it. He could have sidestepped with ease.

Instead, he toned down his Stellar guard to expose his flesh.

Thud.

The shaft hit his left shoulder. It bored into the meat, embedding deeply.

Wang Jian winced, reeling a pace. He permitted vivid crimson to trickle along his limb, marking his dark garb.

"Young Master Wang!" Hua Ling shrieked, terror flooding her features. She flew to him, palms fluttering near the injury. "You're wounded! You... you blocked it for me!"

Wang Jian clenched his jaw, acting the agony. He gripped and broke the arrow's stem, head still buried.

"It's minor," he growled, mustering a faint, courageous grin. "Just a cut."

"Minor?! That's a blood-arrow! The venom..." Tears brimmed in her eyes. "Why take it?"

Wang Jian peered into her depths. With his good hand, he softly swept a loose strand from her cheek.

"A tiny cost for your well-being, Young Mistress," he murmured, tone brimming with valiant determination. "You embody this sect's soul. While I live, no ill shall befall you."

Hua Ling's core softened. Thanks, rush of battle, the closeness of flight... it fused into a fierce wave of feeling.

"Remain here," Wang Jian advised, withdrawing. "The tower's own barrier protects. You'll be secure."

"Where do you head?" she pleaded, seizing his cuff. "You're hurt!"

"My allies battle on," Wang Jian replied, facing the flaming sect. "Foes press the entrance. I return to combat."

"But—"

"Keep safe, Ling’er," he breathed, voicing her private name at last.

He bounded from the ledge, plunging into the blaze, abandoning the Young Sect Mistress to gaze after him, palm over her racing heart for her rescuer.

In the central yard, the clash devolved into a frenzied slaughter.

Chen Ying perched on the Alchemy Hall's roofline. Her outline cut against the fiery vault. She brandished the Gale-Severing Frostblade, the space near her twisting with unseen flows.

"Seven Absolutes: Wind Shear!"

She slashed her weapon. Scores of unseen wind edges, squeezed razor-thin, rent the breeze. A band of Iron-Blood acolytes storming the structure disintegrated—body parts scattered—as torsos parted.

"Sky-Ripper!" she directed.

The huge Sky-Ripper Eagle screeched and plunged. It struck the fiend array like a comet. Claws, infused with wind Qi, shredded blood-wards and plating. It seized a yelling deacon skyward and hurled him from a hundred feet.

Below, Liu Ruyan danced as a force of contrasts.

She wove among the injured Fragrance Melody followers. Her palms shone soft emerald. She flung vials of "Blood-Clotting Elixir" and "Spirit-Recovery Pills" to the weary females.

"Drink!" she urged warmly. "It eases the hurt!"

"Thank you, Sister Ruyan!" the followers wept, viewing her as a holy figure.

Yet instantly, a fiend lunged her way. Liu Ruyan’s face stayed serene, but her power flipped from emerald to toxic violet.

She evoked the Venomous Swamp Toad. The giant opened wide and belched a fog of dense, purple haze straight at the assaulter's visage.

"Melting Acid Mist!"

The foe wailed as his blood-plate fizzed and dissolved, then his hide. Liu Ruyan glided by, booting him toward the toad for devouring, then faced the followers with a comforting grin. "Keep behind me, sisters. I'll shield you."

By the primary entrance, the Black-Scaled Flood Serpent coiled its enormous form about a sentry tower. It drew breath, its gullet shining azure.