A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Due to the abyssal corruption, Nine's body had succumbed to an incurable weakness. Unless she drew power from Ansel, she would likely… be confined to a wheelchair for the foreseeable future.

Although the power Ansel could bestow upon Nine was not without cost to himself—whatever he gave her, he would lose—he didn't mind sharing enough to allow her normal mobility. For him, it was a negligible sacrifice. Yet Nine steadfastly refused to accept.

Her words had been: "Even a millionth of your power, Mr.Ansel, would serve a greater purpose if left with you than if given to me."@@novelbin@@

Only when absolutely necessary would Nine borrow Ansel's power; otherwise, she refused to accept even the slightest amount, deeming it wasteful.

This excessive self-deprecation left Ansel at a loss for words, compelling him to acquiesce to Nine's wishes.

Despite repeatedly confirming that Nine had become his greatest disappointment, Ansel occasionally found himself wondering over the past three days if she might have some hidden agenda.

Deep down, he still struggled to believe that the girl he had once acknowledged could have fallen so far.

Yet, as this thought crossed his mind, Ansel could only mock himself.

Wasn't he, in his past as a devil, the very architect of Marlina's current state? Wasn't it his present demonic self who had deliberately pushed her into the abyss?

His feelings of regret and pity seemed hypocritical and laughable in light of this.

"Regarding the empire's recent situation and future prospects," the frail girl in the wheelchair spoke softly, "I have some thoughts. Would you spare a moment to hear them?"

Ansel set down his quill, fixing his gaze on Nine's pitch-black eyes for a long moment before giving a slight nod. "Go ahead."

"You may not need to exert yourself over the entire empire, Mr. Ansel."

Nine began, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her voice still gentle.

"In the Southern Territories, your authority is absolute. Both the nobility and supernatural organizations hold you in great reverence. It's the least likely region to experience significant upheaval, so it can be set aside for now."

"The Eastern Harbor, with its three grand ducal families' thousand-year legacy, has long established a refined system. It won't descend into excessive chaos merely due to the absence of family heads. Their internal strife will remain within reasonable bounds, and such conflict... will actually facilitate your future control over the region.

Thus, you need only let them continue to occupy that coastal continent, make it known that you don't intend to interfere, and observe their mutual struggles."

"Given these circumstances, the focus should be on the Western Land."

Nine's fingertips touched, and in this moment, she showed no signs of considering herself a mere tool, leaving Ansel perplexed.

Those once-gentle black eyes now held a distinctly egocentric gleam, a kind of madness similar to Seraphina's domineering nature, yet fundamentally different.

Whenever Ansel saw Nine like this, he couldn't help but wonder—had she truly succumbed to the influence of the Sermon, losing herself entirely in fanatical pursuit of him?

"What do you propose?" Ansel's tone unconsciously grew more serious.

Nine's lips curved into a slight smile. If her former self had worn such an expression, it would have exuded a shy, charming girlishness. But now, this faint smile carried a different kind of beauty… hazy and dangerous.

"Kill," she answered, still smiling.

"All adventurers' rights to exploration must be granted by you. All adventurers must adhere to a set of laws. All adventurers must recognize that their era of unbridled freedom and impunity has come to an end."

"For any who disobey, there shall be no other punishment."

The black markings on Nine's left cheek twitched almost imperceptibly, but her voice remained incredibly soft as she uttered these cold, cruel words.

"Only death."

Ansel gazed at Nine for a long time before suddenly chuckling.

"If we do that, the Western Land might be awash in blood."

"That's precisely where its value lies," Nine replied softly. "Gaining allies takes time, intimidation requires examples, and the adventurers of the West are the perfect examples."

A group of rootless opportunists without backgrounds or principles, acting recklessly and selfishly like hyenas. Their value lay in showing everyone in the empire that Ansel of Hydral's will was not to be defied.

Nine's pitch-black eyes seemed to convey this message silently as she looked at Ansel.

She smiled sweetly. "You're merely guiding them onto the right path, aren't you? Those who refuse to follow your righteous path are rebels. Slaughtering rebels isn't massacre—it's justified execution."

The roles seemed to have reversed. Nine was no longer the pure girl led astray by a devil's temptation, but rather... the very incarnation of a devil herself.

She spoke gently and sweetly, subtly tempting Ansel to commit evil acts.

"The difference between slaughter and execution lies not in the target, but in the extent."

How could the past real Devil be easily tempted? Ansel responded calmly, looking at the seemingly frail Nine.

"Killing is not the goal, but a means. Don't confuse the two, Nine."

"Yes, I'll remember that, Mr. Ansel," Nine replied, lowering her gaze submissively.

— Her plan was actually correct and indeed aligned with the important task Ansel was about to have implemented.

The Western Lands were already in a state of near anarchy, with four grand dukes fighting among themselves and allowing adventurers and supernatural beings to act with impunity. After their deaths, these hyenas, barely influenced by the empire's order, would throw the West into chaos. Discover hidden stories at My Virtual Library Empire

Nine's single word "kill" succinctly cut to the heart of the matter. Ansel did need sacrificial lambs to swiftly establish his authority, and these adventurers were unlikely to fall in line. Most of them held little value... their only worth perhaps being their contribution during dragon calamities.

But even during the grand dukes' conflicts, they had managed dragon calamities, viewing them as grand hunts. Once Ansel took full control of the Western Lands and reestablished order, dealing with dragon calamities would naturally become effortless.

For the West to be reborn, it needed to be broken down and rebuilt. And to break it down and rebuild... bloodshed was indeed necessary.

"Nine."

Ansel was no longer surprised by Nine's ability to precisely articulate his thoughts. He asked her a question that he had received many answers to before, yet still held some lingering curiosity about:

"Regarding this proposal, do you have even the slightest consideration for the common people of the West?"

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