Villain Seduces to Rise in Status

Though it looked like she was hiding quite a lot of things beneath that composed exterior, Cale decided to let it be. Who didn’t have secrets? He certainly had enough of his own to fill libraries.

They’d decided their first priority: they needed to join some of the established group first.

Cale decided to probe, testing the waters carefully.

"You do realize what I’m going to do here, right?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Don’t you have any questions? Like how my appearance changed, my cultivation or anything else?"

To be honest, he would have felt reassured if someone asked such questions. Silence made him suspicious—silence meant the other person was still on the thinking phase, meant hidden agendas being formed in the gaps between words.

Fiora stared at him for a long moment, her eyes unreadable.

"Why does it matter to me who you kill?" she asked with genuine indifference. "It will not be my first time seeing people die. And looking at you... it seems you’ve changed up quite a lot of things. Or maybe you just looked like that since birth and are showing your real appearance now. Or maybe you possessed this body since it was better than your previous one. Who knows?"

She paused, studying him,

"Although your body has changed quite a bit along with your hair, your face is still nearly the same."

’Eh... she sure is quite understanding, huh?’ Cale thought with a weird look on his face. ’You can’t even compare this to the princesses in movies and novels. Hehe.’

She continued, her voice steady and pragmatic.

"Also, you said you’ll even increase our cultivation and mana circles by one or two realms. So I can’t argue with that."

Cale laughed, amused. "Hehe, truly spoken like a villainess!"

"Hmph, who’s the villain here, I wonder," she shot back, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

’Seems like she still has questions but is keeping her curiosity in check,’ Cale observed. ’Smart woman indeed.’

Niva Xercs stepped forward then. The protagonist of this world—or at least, one of them—had little patience for what she viewed as wasted time.

"We need to keep a lookout for the divine spirit," she said curtly. "If your flirting is over, that is."

Cale sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Right..."

There was a specific reason he’d agreed to bring Niva Xercs along. She possessed something far more valuable than raw strength: protagonist-level luck. Absurdly good luck. The kind that made impossible coincidences seem mundane.

Though she acted like a righteous hero, she wasn’t particularly strong in the grand scheme of things—mid-level cultivator at best. But her luck was unlike any other. Most of the documents about inheritances, tombs, and hidden treasures that Cale had read in his previous life were written by her. A top-tier treasure hunter, tomb raider, and adventurer.

Going with her would definitely reap good items. And she’d mostly stay with the guards behind, causing no real problems.

***

Three hours into exploring, Zenith Kastor had already discovered something extraordinary.

She’d become a mid-level Grandmaster just before leaving her room, finally strong enough that her father stopped treating her like a child. And the moment she’d stepped into this place, she found a spiritual stone spring—a natural accumulation of cultivation resources that should have taken centuries to form.

Putting her sword on her shoulder, she grinned with satisfaction.

"Good, good," she muttered to herself. "If I get even half of these stones, I could easily cultivate for two years without worry. And I won’t have any problems with my sword training. And that smug guy..." Her expression shifted. "I will punch him in the face."

She was talking about Cale, of course.

As time had passed, Cale had definitely surpassed her in terms of pure swordsmanship—the execution, the flow, the instinctive understanding of blade work. But when it came to infusing energy and understanding the deeper mechanics? He couldn’t even hold a candle to her knowledge. Even now, she was confident she could best him if they fought without restraint.

She was so focused on collecting stones that she didn’t notice the disturbance in the air until it was too late.

A man in flowing green robes descended from above, along with roughly twenty companions. They were floating on swords, which was an aerial technique that Zenith had never personally witnessed before. It was a new thing for her to see, a stark reminder that the world extended far beyond her father’s dojo and the academy’s grounds.

’This world sure has many such miracles,’ she thought, momentarily distracted.

The person at the front looked to be in his late twenties, with the kind of handsome features that money and good breeding could buy. He laughed when he saw her, sound dripping with arrogance and entitlement.

"Girl, why are you here alone?" he called down. "Don’t you have companions?"

One of his subordinates immediately chimed in, his voice obsequious and eager.

"Young master, it seems she is indeed alone. We can snatch this spirit spring from her."

The young man, Wang Xin sized Zenith up with his eyes, ogling her body with the shameless look. His smile turned predatory.

"Why don’t you join with us? With my family’s name, you would surely get many benefits. Heh, your body is good too. I will take you in as my concubine."

Zenith’s eyes narrowed, her expression becoming perfectly indifferent. But she didn’t respond to his words. Instead, she simply continued collecting the spiritual stones, completely ignoring him.

"Such pathetic bastards," she muttered loud enough for them to hear. "Fuck off."

One of Wang Xin’s subordinates immediately stepped forward,

"You don’t understand, girl. Our lord here is Lord Wang Xin, the third young master of the Wang Family! It’s a celestial clan. What do you know of their majesty?"

Zenith felt something inside her chest. Anger, yes, but more than that—contempt.

Being the child of a renowned figure herself, she knew exactly how people used their backgrounds as weapons. She’d had to reject marriage proposals for weeks because of her family’s name and status. But this man?

This fool was too much. He was using his clan like a crutch, like it could actually protect him from consequences.

She ignored them, turning her back and continuing to gather the stones.

Wang Xin was not accustomed to being ignored.

He was a lustful man who has gotten away with countless crimes simply because of his status and background. Yes, he was strong cultivation-wise, he was competent. But in terms of leadership, tactical thinking? He was utterly incapable of commanding even five people properly, let alone leading an entire celestial clan as some claimed he would one day.

Rage flooded his features when she turned her back to him.

"Go and capture her!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the spiritual spring. "Let me see how long this rat squeaks!"

All twenty of his men rushed toward Zenith simultaneously, drawing their weapons as they charged.

Zenith produced her blue blade with fluid grace, infusing it instantly with her sword energy. The blade glowed with a pristine white-blue light that seemed to cut through reality itself.

She leaped forward directly toward the charging men, not bothering with defensive formations or tactical positioning. Her first slash was a perfect arc that bisected two of Wang Xin’s men cleanly—their heads separated from their bodies before they could even scream.

But she didn’t stop. She didn’t engage the others. Instead, she straightaway jumped past them, her trajectory aimed directly at Wang Xin himself.

’This woman! She’s going for the kill! Not even paying attention to the others!’

Wang Xin was taken completely off-guard. His instincts screamed danger as he took a hurried battle stance, already reaching for the defense artifact he kept hidden in his spatial ring. He was just about to activate it when—

Zenith produced a second sword from her spatial storage and threw it.

The blade pierced directly through his forearm, punching through bone and muscle with a sickening crunch.

"WARGH!!!!" Wang Xin’s scream tore from his throat involuntarily, the pain blinding.

But he had no time to even process it.

Zenith closed the distance in under three seconds, her own sword moved. One clean stroke, and Wang Xin’s head separated from his body, rolling across the ground to settle near the spiritual stones.

She cleaned her swords on his robe, then laughed, a sound of pure disdain.

"A mere newbie Grandmaster dares to covet me?" she said to the corpse. "Where did you even get that kind of idea? I don’t have time to waste on shitheads like you."

The remaining men charged desperately, but with their morale shattered and their leader’s headless corpse still bleeding in their vision, they had no chance. One by one, they fell to Zenith’s blade—swift, efficient, merciless.

When it was done, Zenith burned their bodies using a simple flame technique, destroying evidence and preventing pursuit through artifact tracking. She collected all their spatial rings and weapons.

This was something Cale had taught her, calling it "payment for disturbing his mental health" whenever she practiced on dangerous groups. It had become second nature now.

Two hours passed.

Another group descended from the sky, this time on more refined flying swords that shimmered with celestial energy. They landed with perfect formation, military precision in their movements.

This too was a group from the Wang clan, but led by a different man entirely. Wang Youhei was astute where his brother had been foolish, formal where Wang Xin had been crude. He wore the bearing of someone actually capable of leadership.

One of his servants held an artifact in his hand: a piece of glass that seemed almost ordinary until you looked closer. It could reflect someone, showing exactly what had happened to them over the past twenty-four hours.

Wang Youhei stared at the images playing out on the artifact’s surface, watching as his brother, his competitor for clan position and resources fell to a single woman’s blade. Over and over again, the images cycled through the massacre.

He sighed heavily, "Even if he was my competitor, if I don’t avenge him, the clan will deem me as unfit," he said quietly, more to himself than to his servants. "They will say I couldn’t even take revenge for his death. That’s worse than losing him in the first place."

He kicked Wang Xin’s corpse, his expression one of frustration and tactical assessment rather than brotherly mourning.

"Foolish womanizer," he muttered. "Didn’t you have fun in your life? Who did you even offend this time?"

He turned to the servant holding the artifact, already knowing what the answer would be.

"Lord, it seems to be some woman from the desolate continent," the servant replied, studying the reflected images carefully.

Wang Youhei’s expression hardened.

"So it’s like that," he said quietly. "But still, he is a descendant of the Wang family. We need to at least kill this girl. By the looks of it, she doesn’t have any companions with her."

He surveyed his twenty loyal men—far better trained than Wang Xin’s rabble, far more disciplined and tactically sound.

"Let’s go."

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