Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 982: The Bait is Cast

A heavy, musk-like scent, utterly suffocating, permeated the master chamber of the Ice Heart Pavilion. This lingering aroma served as a grim confirmation of the absolute domination that had occurred throughout the preceding night and morning. The twenty-three women originating from the Ice Heart Palace, formerly revered as the pinnacle of purity and emotional stoicism in the Myriad Reefs Sea Region, were now nothing more than shattered, quivering remnants. However, Wang Jian, the mastermind behind their profound anguish, harbored a mind as frigid and calculating as it was deeply corrupt. With the perfectly constructed snare for the Mistress of the Golden-Scale Auction House meticulously laid, the period of unrestrained pleasure had reached its temporary conclusion. The moment had arrived to prepare the venue for the eminent arrival of their exceptionally perilous and remarkably affluent visitor.

Standing resolutely in the chamber's core, Wang Jian adjusted his immaculate scholar's white robes, the fabric expertly concealing the terrifying, demonic physique that lay beneath. His gaze swept over the sprawling panorama of delicate, fair skin and voluptuous contours scattered across snow-fox furs and thick, woven carpets. The presence of twenty-three nude, weeping women wandering aimlessly throughout the pavilion was an unacceptable disruption; their ruined states and traumatized auras would shatter the carefully crafted facade of a discreet, professional trade negotiation.

"Hua Yimei. Chen Ying," Wang Jian's voice sliced through the mournful, soft whimpers of the depleted disciples, resonating with an unchallengeable, absolute authority. "Your respite concludes now. A Half-Step Nascent Soul expert is expected imminently. Oversee the clearing of this chamber. Relocate all disciples, along with the utterly spent forms of Elder Leng and Elder Han, to the pavilion's most secluded basement level. Ensure not the slightest trace of their presence remains here."

Hua Yimei and Chen Ying, their devotion unwavering and their spirits invigorated by the potent Stellar Qi bestowed by their master, executed their duties with swift, deadly precision. The notion of gentleness was entirely disregarded.

"Rise. All of you, stand," Hua Yimei commanded, her voice shedding the seductive purr typically reserved for Wang Jian, adopting instead the harsh, commanding tone of an unyielding overseer. She seized the nearest Foundation Establishment disciple by her arm, forcefully lifting the woman's naked, trembling form from the floor.

The unclothed, comely disciples were guided from the master chamber as if they were docile livestock. Stripped bare of their heavy white robes, their dignity, and their suppressed cultivation bases, they were exceedingly vulnerable. They shuffled out into the pavilion's frigid, frost-laden corridors, their bare feet making soft slapping sounds against the freezing spirit-wood floorboards. Their alluring, curvaceous bodies shuddered uncontrollably in the biting ambient air, their ample bosoms swaying significantly with each unsteady, mortifying stride. They instinctively wrapped their arms around themselves, a futile attempt to retain a modicum of warmth and cover, their pale blue eyes fixed downward in complete and utter despair.

Chen Ying followed at the rear, her gaze, devoid of emotion, observing the procession with stark detachment. By their ankles, she dragged the unconscious, thoroughly depleted bodies of Elder Leng and Elder Han. Their once-dignified forms slid unceremoniously across the polished wood, further compounding the profound visual degradation inflicted upon the Ice Heart Palace's esteemed legacy.

They descended the grand staircase, passing through the ground floor, and pushed open the formidable, reinforced stone doors leading to the pavilion's subterranean depths. The lowest basement chamber was a stark, windowless space hewn from solid permafrost rock, originally constructed as a high-security repository for the sect’s most volatile cold-attribute resources. Now, it was designated as their lightless confinement.

The procession of twenty-three nude beauties was ushered inside. The cold emanating from the stone walls was absolute, penetrating deeply into their exposed, fair skin. They instinctively congregated in the room's center, a substantial, trembling mass of soft flesh seeking solace in shared body heat, their sobs echoing against the unforgiving stone.

Once all had entered the subterranean chamber, Wang Jian began his descent, his footsteps resonating with a slow, deliberate menace. He positioned himself at the entrance, his dark, starlit eyes surveying his newly acquired, completely subjugated possessions. There was no need for crude threats of violence or deadly poisons to ensure their submission; the utter annihilation of their physical and spiritual pride had already achieved this. They were unequivocally his, a truth ingrained in the very core of their beings.

Wang Jian elevated his right hand, his index finger radiating an intensely dense, concentrated point of pure, abyssal Stellar Demonic Qi. He turned his attention towards the basement’s thick, foot-wide iron door.

With swift, masterful strokes that showcased his terrifying comprehension of the laws of the universe, Wang Jian began to personally etch a series of complex, highly restrictive array formations directly onto the cold iron surface. The dark energy sizzled and burned into the metal, leaving deep, glowing black runic scars.

He drew the Absolute Silence Rune, an ancient, high-tier suppression matrix that completely devoured sound waves. He followed it immediately by weaving the Spiritual Lockdown Seal into the iron, creating a localized vacuum that severed any lingering connection to the ambient Qi of the world. He ensured that absolutely no sound, no cry of despair, and not a single, microscopic fluctuation of spiritual energy could escape the confines of the basement.

"You will remain here," Wang Jian stated simply, his voice echoing into the dark, cold room, carrying the absolute weight of a universal law. "You will wait in the dark. You will reflect upon your new existence. And when I am finished securing the Mistress of the Auction House, I will return to use you as my personal, slutty sex toilets."

None of the women dared to protest. They merely whimpered, pressing their naked, voluptuous bodies closer together, completely subservient to his dark will.

Wang Jian swung the heavy iron door shut. The loud, resounding CLANG finalized their isolation. The glowing black runes flared once, sealing the chamber in complete, suffocating darkness.

Back on the main floor, the pavilion had been entirely sanitized of any signs of the brutal subjugation. The broken floorboards from the battle had been mended by Wang Jian’s Wood attribute Qi, and the heavy scent of sex had been scrubbed from the air by a subtle, purifying wind array.

In the center of the main hall, Bing Yun stood shivering. She was still completely naked, her very fair skin marred by the faint, lingering bruises and the sheer, profound degradation she had experienced just hours prior. Her silver hair hung in messy strands, and her eyes held the hollow, broken emptiness of a woman who had lost absolutely everything.

Wang Jian walked toward her, carrying a neatly folded stack of her pristine, heavy white Ice Heart Palace robes, which he had retrieved from her confiscated spatial ring.

"Put these on," Wang Jian commanded, his tone calm but unyielding.

Bing Yun did not hesitate. Her pride was gone. She took the heavy silk garments with trembling hands and began to dress herself. She pulled the inner linings over her voluptuous figure, hiding her virgin pink pussy and her large breasts from the open air. The fabric, once a symbol of her pure, untouchable status, now felt like a suffocating shroud of hypocrisy against her corrupted flesh.

Wang Jian did not simply let her dress herself in peace. He stepped intimately close, invading her personal space. As she struggled to tie the complex inner sash around her waist, Wang Jian reached out, his large hands intentionally brushing aside the heavy silk collar.

He slipped his hands inside her robes, his palms completely enveloping her large, massive breasts.

Bing Yun gasped sharply, her body tensing as the lingering, demonic aphrodisiac within her blood responded instantly to his touch.

"Master..." she whispered, her voice a fragile, broken reed, her pale blue eyes fluttering closed.

"We must ensure you look exactly like the proud, aloof Elder of the Ice Heart Palace," Wang Jian murmured directly into her ear, entirely ignoring her distress. He squeezed her heavy breasts ruthlessly, kneading the soft flesh and pinching her pink nipples through the thin inner fabric until they formed hard, tight peaks. "Your appearance must be flawless. Not a single hair out of place. Not a single hint that you are currently dripping wet and aching for my dick beneath these pure white robes."

He leaned forward and bit down surprisingly hard on the soft, exposed flesh of her upper chest, just above the collarbone. He didn’t draw blood, but he left a distinct, throbbing red mark, a secret brand of his ownership hidden just beneath the high collar of her outer robes.

Surprisingly, Bing Yun did not fight him. The psychological shift within her shattered mind was complete. She had realized that resistance only brought unimaginable pain to her disciples. To save them from further torture, she had accepted her role. She would be his perfect, compliant tool.

"I... I understand, Master," Bing Yun breathed heavily, actively forcing herself to lean slightly into his touch, submitting to his fondling. "I will play the part perfectly. Shangguan Wan’er will not suspect a thing. I will lure her into the absolute center of the hall, directly over the primary gravity node you established."

A genuine smile graced Wang Jian’s features as he witnessed her enthusiastic cooperation. He released her ample bosom, then draped the weighty, snow-white outer garment back over her shoulders, carefully straightening its collar to conceal the mark he'd left. His fingers then smoothed her silver tresses, arranging them to fall flawlessly down her back, thus restoring the Ice Fairy’s pristine appearance.

However, for a strategist of Wang Jian's caliber, mere visual perfection and psychological subjugation were insufficient. An absolute, unshakeable guarantee was what he demanded.

Before withdrawing, Wang Jian placed his right palm flat against the very center of Bing Yun’s chest, directly over her heart, hidden beneath the layers of fine silk.

He infused a highly specialized and extraordinarily volatile strand of his dark Qi.

"Stellar Torment Seal," Wang Jian breathed.

Bing Yun choked out a gasp as a freezing, searing needle of dark Qi plunged through her flesh, coiling tightly around the very muscle of her beating heart. It felt as if a dormant, venomous arachnid had taken up residence within her chest, poised to inject its lethal poison at a single command.

"Do not mistake my caresses for trust, Fairy Bing," Wang Jian murmured into her ear, his voice a chilling harbinger of utter annihilation. "This is a remote detonation seal, directly tethered to my Divine Sense. Should you attempt to warn her, should your Qi falter in distress, should you offer a subtle signal with your hand, or utter a single word out of turn during the negotiation... I will detonate this seal. It will not grant you a swift end. Instead, it will obliterate your heart into a thousand fragments, plunging you into unimaginable, paralyzing torment for hours before your body finally succumbs."

Bing Yun inclined her head stiffly, her complexion draining of color. Yet, her vacant, lifeless eyes betrayed no shock. She was utterly subjugated to his will. "I shall not fail you, Master. She will walk willingly into the trap."

"Excellent," Wang Jian purred smoothly, stepping back and unfurling his folding fan with a snap.

The stage was meticulously prepared.

Wang Jian then addressed his two devoted subordinates. "Hua Yimei. Chen Ying. Assume your positions."

Hua Yimei and Chen Ying vanished in a blur. Employing the most advanced stealth techniques from the Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture, they completely dissolved into the profound, unnatural shadows cast by the massive pillars of the main courtyard. Their breathing ceased, their heartbeats stilled, and their spiritual auras were utterly extinguished. They became spectral phantoms, silent and lethal, awaiting the signal to strike.

Wang Jian proceeded to the rear of the grand hall. He took a seat behind an ornate, intricately carved privacy screen fashioned from translucent frost-jade. From this vantage point, he remained entirely concealed from anyone entering through the main doors, yet the screen's latticework provided an unimpeded view of the courtyard and the entryway. He settled back comfortably, savoring a cup of tepid spirit tea, his Stellar Demonic Core resonating with quiet, predatory anticipation. He was ready to ensnare his prey.

Outside, positioned in the heart of the immaculate, eerily tranquil main courtyard, Bing Yun stood motionless. The frigid, ambient air of the Ice Heart Pavilion enveloped her heavy white robes. To any external observer, she presented an image of unwavering righteous discipline. Internally, however, her soul was hemorrhaging blood.

With a trembling, pallid hand, Bing Yun reached into her sleeve and retrieved the high-grade communication talisman crafted from jade.

She drew a deep, steadying breath, forcing her frayed nerves into a semblance of composure. Summoning power from deep within her sealed meridians, she extracted the absolute final, minuscule trace of her distinctive, recognizable Ice Heart Palace Qi signature. This authenticating energy was then infused directly into the jade.

The talisman blazed with incandescent, pale blue light. The intricate runes etched upon its surface spun with dizzying speed, synchronizing with the specific spatial frequency of the private receiving array housed within the Golden-Scale Auction House.

With a delicate, chiming resonance, the message was dispatched, dissolving into the spatial ether and hurtling directly toward its immensely formidable recipient.

Across the vast, floating metropolis of Azure Cloud City, within the uppermost echelon of the Golden-Scale Auction House, resided a sumptuous, gold-adorned office that rivaled the grandeur of a mortal emperor's throne room.

The walls were adorned with shelves hewn from rare profound-sea coral, showcasing priceless relics, radiant beast cores, and sealed jade containers holding potent herbs capable of igniting conflicts between minor sects. The floor was carpeted in a colossal, unbroken expanse woven from the golden silk of the Heaven-Weaver Spider—a material of such extraordinary durability that it could repel a sword blow from a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Behind a vast desk, crafted from intricately carved darkwood sourced from the deepest oceans, sat Shangguan Wan’er, the undeniable monarch of this immense commercial domain.

Suddenly, a special, highly encrypted communication device, seamlessly integrated into her desk's surface, began to glow. A gentle, ethereal blue light pulsed in a steady rhythm, signaling an incoming, top-priority communiqué, secured by an authenticated and trusted Qi signature.

Shangguan Wan’er momentarily halted her examination of the day’s financial records. Her fingers, meticulously adorned with rings containing spatial storage larger than entire estates, hovered above the communication array. With a deliberate touch, she activated the central node.

The message initiated without delay, Bing Yun’s voice immersing her private office.

"Mistress Shangguan," Bing Yun’s voice resonated, tinged with an palpable urgency, a strained secrecy, and an air of utmost confidentiality. "During a highly covert deep-sea expedition, I have unearthed an Abyssal Star-Iron Vein. I intend to divest the exclusive mining concessions and the precise coordinates immediately, under conditions of absolute discretion. Tonight, you must journey to the Ice Heart Pavilion. Ensure you are unaccompanied, save for your most loyal retainers. We must circumvent the Alliance's oversight."

Shangguan Wan’er slowly reclined in her opulent, velvet-upholstered high-backed chair. Attentively replaying the message a second time, her sharp, keen merchant's intuition was immediately galvanized by the mention of such a legendary and strategically pivotal treasure.

'An Abyssal Star-Iron Vein,' Shangguan Wan’er mused, her mind rapidly calculating the intricate webs of logistics, potential profit yields, and the delicate balance of regional power. 'Not merely a fragment of ore, but an entire, uncharted deposit. This is the foundational material essential for constructing the most advanced spatial formations and Earth-Grade weaponry. Should the Violet-Thunder Valley or the Heavenly Sword Sect gain control of this, their dominance in the armaments sector would be cemented for the ensuing century.'

Little did she suspect that the Ice Heart Pavilion was already infiltrated, nor that a predatory entity from the Fragrance Melody Sect lay in concealment behind a jade screen, poised to bring about her downfall.

Her line of reasoning aligned perfectly with the established tenets of the cultivation world. The Ice Heart Palace was recognized as a bastion of righteousness, and Bing Yun, an Elder of considerable renown, albeit one known for her solitary nature. The notion of such a meticulously crafted, lethal ambush being orchestrated by this woman seemed not only improbable but virtually unthinkable, given their impeccable standing.

Moreover, the desire expressed for the clandestine sale of an Abyssal Star-Iron Vein was entirely logical. The Myriad Reefs Alliance imposed punitive, crippling tariffs on the discovery of vital resources, frequently confiscating a substantial portion under the pretext of 'regional stability and collective defense'. The practice of evading these taxes and engaging in direct sales with preeminent auction houses was a common and exceedingly profitable strategy employed by cultivators of significant standing who happened upon immense fortunes.

A covetous smile graced Shangguan Wan’er’s lips. It was a smile of breathtaking ferocity, a smile that had previously heralded the ruin of countless competing merchants. She envisioned the staggering, world-altering profits her auction house stood to gain from securing the sole rights to such a singular, monopolistic asset.

'A clandestine transaction with the 'Ice Fairy',' Shangguan Wan’er whispered to herself, idly tapping her vividly painted red lips with a golden stylus. 'How exquisitely intriguing.'

She did not waver. Opportunities of this magnitude were fleeting, offering no quarter to the indecisive.

Instantly, she extended her potent Divine Sense, operating at the Half-Step Nascent Soul realm, bypassing conventional communication channels to directly contact the command center of her elite personal guard.

'Jin Da. Jin Er,' her voice commanded, projected directly into the minds of her two most trusted sentinels. 'Report to my chambers without delay. Fully equipped.'

In mere moments, the imposing double doors of her office swung open with silent precision. Two colossal figures entered, their movements fluid and synchronized, possessing the lethal grace of apex predators. They were identical twins, encased from head to toe in formidable, interlocking armor meticulously forged from the hide of Golden-Scale Dragon wyrms, rendering them nearly impervious to conventional elemental assaults.

An oppressive, terrifying aura emanated from both individuals. They were far beyond mere Peak Core Formation cultivators; each had brushed against the precipice of the subsequent cultivation realm. As experts at the Half-Step Nascent Soul stage, they specialized in synergistic combat techniques, enabling them to temporarily contend with a genuine Nascent Soul cultivator.

'Mistress,' the twins intoned in flawless unison, executing a profound bow.