A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 149: More Than What Fate Can Defeat - I

"Anthicheg," in ancient parlance, signifies "the cradle of ancient flames."

This is also the name of the imperial palace throughout the ages.

This colossal palace, situated at the zenith of the imperial capital, the City of Celestia, ceaselessly burns with a fierce, crimson fire.

When the subjects of the empire gaze up at the palace from within the city, it is as if they are worshiping a second sun.

Tap, tap, tap —

The crisp sound of footsteps echoed within the dwelling of the supreme monarch.

A woman, her crimson robe trailing on the ground, her hem resembling the burning flames, bowed her head slightly, humbly greeting the figure in the depths of the palace, amidst the roaring blood flames: "Mother, good day."

Came the aged voice of a woman from within the flames, "I did not permit you to enter and exit my palace at will."

The blood flames flared up, seemingly agitated by the figure's impatience and annoyance.

The corners of Elder Princess Evora of Flamefeast's mouth lifted slightly. Maintaining the bare minimum of decorum, beneath her slender, deep red eyebrows, her eyes were filled with unmistakable arrogance.

"As your successor," she lightly shook her long sleeves, sparks of blood-red flames igniting at the cuffs, "it is my duty to be concerned about your condition at all times. "

"Moreover, I have news that you care deeply about."

This elder princess, whose prestige was gradually accumulating among the empire's upper echelons, extended a hand, a flame ignited in her palm, and an image crystal appeared out of thin air.

"A president of an adventurer's guild from the western region has recorded the debut performance of the first pact head of that young Ansel of Hydral."

The image crystal projected the image into the air. In this semi-transparent image, a young girl raised her fist, the image of Hydral shattering a massive monster was crystal clear.

The blood flames in the depths of the palace seemed to burn even more fiercely, the somewhat thin figure within the flames moved, casting a gaze that seemed capable of incinerating even the air.

"Two... rings," the aged empress murmured.

"Seraphina Marlowe, a nobody from a frontier village."

Evora, supporting her arm, looked at the image with astonishment in her eyes. "Although she has studied in the Frost Tower and has shown remarkable talent, there is nothing truly worth betting heavily on."

A flame flower flickered in her eyes as she murmured:

"Only he discovered the talent of this country girl and went to such great lengths to cultivate her—"

Before Elder Princess could finish her sentence, a piercing laughter suddenly echoed in the spacious palace.

"Hehehe... Hahahaha!"

A joyous… somewhat manic laughter.

Evora was startled, the previously composed her instinctively took a step back.

For a figure emerged from the roaring blood flames. As she stepped out of the bed of flames, strands of fire wrapped around her body, instantly weaving a dazzlingly beautiful robe. The "fabric" of the robe, with its complex patterns, glowed with a flowing red light, like rolling lava.

"One person bearing the power of two pact heads."

The empress's face, though lined with many wrinkles and appearing to be in her sixties, still hinted at her extraordinary beauty in her youth.

"Evora."

The seemingly decrepit old woman took a step, and with each step, the temperature in the palace rose a notch, and blood-red flame flowers spontaneously ignited in the surrounding space.

The empress looked at Evora, her gaze as contemptuous as if she were not looking at her own daughter.

"Young girl, you have no idea what this means."

The princess pulled at the corner of her mouth, slightly bowed in salute, "Then, may I ask you to enlighten me?"

The empress, who had become increasingly tyrannical towards the end of her reign, seemed to be in a good mood at this moment. She strolled to the entrance of the palace and said:

"It means..."

Ephesande of Flamefeast came to the entrance of the palace, bathed in sunlight, and murmured joyously to the point of trembling:

"The abyss... is in his palm."

Today, the City of Celestia did not welcome the night.

For this city, symbolizing the eternal greatness of the empire, a second sun was ignited.

*

"Miss Ziegler!"

Within the Babel Institute, a man of decent appearance trailed behind a stern woman, clad in a white lab coat, her ponytail tied high. He continued to flatter, "Regarding your latest design, I wish to represent the Duke of Gray Tower..."

"Please maintain a distance of more than ten meters from me."

The woman walked forward without a sideways glance. Despite her brisk pace, there was no sense of hurry. "For your safety and the cleanliness of my attire, thank you."

The man's expression stiffened. Recalling the terrifying rumors about this genius of Babel, his heart was filled with hesitation. However, thinking of the task he bore, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down.

"I have something that will certainly interest you, about the pact head of Hydral..."

Thud.

Something was pressed against the man's face. Feeling the cylindrical shape on his cheek, the man broke out in a cold sweat.

The second generation of Ether Floating Turret, Hummingbird.

A revolutionary product of alchemical weaponry. When everyone thought that the genius sorceress Ravenna, who designed the "firearms", was disheartened after the failure of the first generation of floating turrets, this renowned prodigy, after a long silence, launched its second generation last year. With an overwhelming posture, she defeated seventeen challengers from the Ether Institute.

No one doubted Ravenna's talent anymore. She was surrounded by praise and glory, bathed in countless radiance.

But Miss Ziegler, who was expected to win the laurel of the sage within ten years, seemed to be forever displeased. No matter when and where, her expression was always as cold as ice, as if all the glory she had received had nothing to do with her.

"HYDRAL'S P-A-C-T H-E-A-D."

Ravenna, who was pressing the floating turret barrel against the man's head, was expressionless. "When did this happen, and how authentic is it?"

-->