A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Following the successful taming of Ravenna, a semblance of tranquility seemed to return to the imperial capital, devoid of any significant upheaval.

Yet, this very calmness alerted the astute elites to an underlying anomaly.

Outside Ephesande's palace, Anthicheg, Evora's gaze narrowed as she scrutinized the sealed gates before her.

Her beloved mother had not convened the morning council nor attended to any state affairs for a continuous half-month.

The empire's nobility had grown accustomed to this disarray, preferring the chaos marking the twilight of Ephesande's reign. An emperor who does nothing is deemed the best kind of ruler.

However, for Evora, poised to inherit divine authority, this situation hinted at something profoundly… abnormal.

Common sense dictated that, despite nearing madness, Ephesande should have at least two to three years of life left. Typically, emperors at this stage would either desperately seek a breakthrough from the immense burden borne by Hydral or abandon all efforts for a final bout of indulgence.

Yet, none had secluded themselves within the Source Flame, merely clinging to life… as Ephesande did.

Initially, Evora believed her mother sought to delay the inevitable madness, but as the threshold approached, such actions seemed utterly futile.

Reflecting on the past, Evora reached out to touch the gates of Anthicheg, only for her palm to be instantly engulfed in fierce blood flames. With a slight click of her tongue, she withdrew her hand, but it was already severely charred, revealing blackened bones in mere moments.

Frowning, Evora's one hand turned into a knife, severed her entire other hand at the wrist, allowing a new one to regenerate amidst the flames.

"You're not merely clinging to life..."

The ferocious, unruly flames reminded Evora of the mother she knew in her youth—possessing the absolute power… that looked down upon the world.

Clasping her newly formed hand, she murmured, "Are you... amassing power?"

Evora, inherently cruel and ruthless yet never foolish, quickly pieced together numerous possibilities, her expression darkening with hesitation.

After a brief moment of deliberation, she resolved to act, transforming into a blaze of fire and vanishing from the spot.

Inside Anthicheg, amidst the eternal blaze of the Source Flame, the twilight monarch, who had lain dormant for a full half-month, opened her eyes.

"Such… a troublesome fool, but, no matter."

Those turbid flame-colored eyes were filled with unsettling chaos and madness.

"I have all the time in the world to teach you."

On the other side, Evora, who had instantly arrived in Ansel's bedroom, did not find Ansel there. Instead, she encountered a pitifully frail girl.

"Where is Ansel?" she inquired impatiently, addressing the girl before her who appeared slightly dazed and sported a mane of snow-white hair.

"Princess Evora... Greetings—"

Marlina, coming to her senses, initially greeted Evora, only to be rudely interrupted: "I asked you, where is he."

The irate Elder Princess, in a foul mood, telekinetically grasped Marlina's neck, lifting her off the ground without a trace of emotion: "Can't you understand simple speech?"

"Mr. Ansel is... in... the Empire... Royal Theatre... cough, cough, cough!"

After struggling to answer Evora's question amidst pain, Marlina was harshly thrown to the ground, the vivid burn marks on her neck silently narrating the agony she had just endured.

"The Royal Theatre... Does he still find the leisure and mood to frequent such places?"

Evora mused with a frown, then glanced at Marlina, who lay on the ground, continuously coughing.

"You are the mortal deliberately kept by Ansel's side... Marlina, if I'm not mistaken."

Marlina, struggling to her feet, bowed deeply to Evora in an utmost humble manner, attempting to speak, but her scorched throat was too hoarse to articulate complete sentences.

"How fragile... What use does he have for you? It hardly seems entertaining."

The Elder Princess waved her hand dismissively, and a surge of blood flame passed over Marlina's throat, healing her injuries instantly.

"Thank you... Thank you for your grace, and for remembering me, Your Highness."

Marlina, with hands clasped over her abdomen, bowed deeply, responding to Evora with a tone of respectful humility, devoid of any hint of displeasure.

"Enough of this nonsense, convey a message to Ansel for me—now, immediately."

Although unsure of Evora's intentions, Marlina responded respectfully: "As you command, Your Highness."

"Tell him: That old damn woman might make a move against you and Lord Flamelle, be extra vigilant."

Evora spoke these words nonchalantly, but Marlina's heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth, unable to speak for a moment, then, overcoming her immense fear with a newfound strong will, she risked further torment from Evora to hesitantly ask: "Could you... repeat that, please?"

"What? You think I'm speaking nonsense?"

Evora scoffed coldly, but did not mistreat Marlina further, merely stating indifferently: "I haven't misspoken a single word, ensure you deliver this message to Ansel exactly as I said."

Then, her figure vanished from Ansel's bedroom.

Marlina stood frozen in place for a good four or five seconds, then, as if panicked, she ran towards the door in disarray. Despite her extensive training in noble etiquette, she was now as frantic as a person unable to coordinate their limbs, nearly tripping over her skirt and falling.

Five minutes later, Evora stood atop the roof of the Hydral Manor, arms crossed, watching as a carriage sped away from the manor's gates, then casting her gaze towards the highest point of the imperial capital, her eyes cold.

She had initially intended to directly inform Ansel of the matter, but upon encountering Marlina, Evora conceived a different plan.

The moment she touched the door of Anthicheg, Evora was certain that she had alarmed Ephesande.

Despite her mother's senility and clouded consciousness, anything concerning her life would undoubtedly awaken her lucidity—after all, it seemed all her thoughts were concentrated on this very aspect.

If Evora's speculation were true, then Ephesande would surely kill Marlina as a warning, unwilling to allow any disruptions to her plans. With Marlina serving as a cautionary example, Ephesande would not direct her wrath towards Evora, sparing her from risking her own safety.

However, if Marlina remained unharmed, it would indicate that… Evora's conjecture was incorrect, or at least, not entirely correct. That old creature might be planning to accumulate power for some other purpose.

Of course, theoretically, there exists another possibility, a terribly dire one.

— That Ephesande is absolutely confident in her victory.

But, this remains purely theoretical.

Evora looked up at the sky, where, at an imperceptible altitude, hung another divine being's sword, strategically placed there.

"Do you truly believe you can triumph over Flamelle, that monster?"

The Elder Princess scoffed disdainfully:

"You haven't lost your mind to that extent, have you, old fool?"

*