A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

"...Evora?"

Ansel's brow furrowed slightly, but then relaxed: "I understand, farewell, Father."

His figure vanished from the space, reappearing in the corridor of the Nostrom.

Ansel caught sight of her immediately—the woman as vivid and fierce as fire, standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall not far away, her gaze fixed intently upon him.

Before she could speak, Ansel preempted her, "What's the matter? Did the negotiations with Ravenna not go smoothly?"

"..." Evora's expression turned perilous, "Have you orchestrated this? Are you mocking me?"

"What else could your sudden visit be about?"

Ansel replied leisurely, "A simple deduction—what did she say?"

"... Hmph, a mere rejection."

"No reasons given?"

"None," the Elder Princess scoffed, "It seems she's grown quite bold under your protection."

Hearing this, Ansel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing more, merely inquiring, "So, will you continue? Are you that interested in the data system?"

"It's not about that."

The woman took two steps forward and suddenly reached out to grasp Ansel, pulling him close.

"Ansel, my subordinate... overheard her muttering something intriguing."

The young Hydral raised an eyebrow, "That coincidental?"

"Heh, just so coincidental. Guess what she was muttering about?"

Evora's grip on Ansel's wrist tightened, her breath hot and dangerous:

"She was plotting how to deal with the empress, how to confront... the Flamefeast."

Gazing at the stunning face so close to his own, Ansel responded nonchalantly, "And so?"

"And so... keep your little puppet in check, Ansel."

Evora's mouth twisted into a smirk, "I now have a reason to reduce her to ashes without regard for your feelings, you know?"

"This time, I'm overlooking her arrogant death wish out of the little affection between us and the favors you've done for me in the past."

"But should your little puppet make even the slightest move that displeases me... boom~"

With a gleeful expression, she mimicked an explosive gesture, "She'll turn into beautiful sparks."

Ansel merely smiled, "You shouldn't repeatedly underestimate Ravenna's value to me, Evora."

"Whether she's important or not… or just perfectly positioned."

His casual demeanor was not feigned, but so genuine it unsettled Evora, "I know you'd like to best me just once, given you've never succeeded."

"... Should I say you don't seem to care much for your little puppet, or that you care too much for your dog?"

Evora released Ansel, clicking her tongue in displeasure, "If it were that dog, you'd have already shown me your displeasure... Can she really not influence you at all? What a waste."

Ansel simply smiled in response, further irritating Evora.

Their complex relationship couldn't be summed up in a few words. Evora admired Ansel's talent and strength, yet couldn't bear him surpassing her in everything; she craved such an outstanding male, yet constantly sought to extract value from Ansel. Their relationship could switch between friend and foe at any moment, but the key was...

Ansel was always one step ahead in the transition, always the one prepared to respond.

Just as Ansel had said, Evora had never won against him.

"I had mistakenly thought you intended to use me as a means to tame her, but observing your demeanor… it seems you have abandoned such plans," Evora remarked, tempering her aggression slightly.

"Ansel, what exactly do you plan to do with that little puppet? After reviewing the information on why that deranged old man, Eileen Ziegler, died, I cannot believe you would let this opportunity pass."

"Isn't the opportunity right here?" Ansel replied with a smile.

"…Hmm?"

Evora's gaze gave her a sudden, ominous premonition.

She detested being scrutinized by Ansel with such a gaze. Over the years, their collaborations had been few, but she had grown accustomed to his manipulative tactics.

Being looked at in such a manner always left her in a state of reluctant acceptance, fully aware that "Ansel was exploiting her, yet compelled to comply due to the mutual benefits". This was particularly irksome to Evora.

Of course, there was another scenario Evora found even more intolerable—being unaware of her exploitation, yet finding pleasure in it.

"I cannot believe you lack the desire for retribution against your overly presumptuous sister."

This time, Ansel, with an aggressive move, slid his hand up the slit of Evora's luxurious gown, chuckling softly, "But she always manages to cover her tracks perfectly, protected by your mother's shelter, thus… leaving you no avenue for action, correct?"

Evora's breathing grew heavier, both from Ansel's touch stirring her desires and his words stirring her heart.

To say that a person of Evora's stature would be bothered by mere bugs is an understatement; she would not rest until she had eradicated every pest within a vast radius around her.

As a tool used by Ephesande to suppress her, Suellen quickly became the focus of Evora's animosity. If Evora merely entertained the thought of wishing her mother's sooner demise, her intent to kill Suellen was unmistakably overt, seizing any opportunity or if sufficiently provoked, ensuring Suellen's certain demise.

However, as Ansel pointed out, Suellen's impeccable discretion left Evora immensely frustrated.

The Elder Princess's demeanor fluctuated, unwilling to be manipulated by Ansel, yet unable to resist the temptation.

"Fear not, I am not like some vindictive woman who would burn people alive upon rejection."

Ansel tightened his grip slightly, eliciting a soft gasp from Evora, and chuckled lightly, "I will give you ample time to consider. There's no rush, Evora."

He withdrew his now slightly damp hand, his gaze playful as he cleansed it with flames, then turned and walked away.

The moment Ansel turned, the smile on his face and the gleam in his eyes vanished completely.

It seems you're becoming increasingly impatient, as the critical juncture approaches, planning to ignite all potential conflicts and issues?

In this city, beyond my full control, the turmoil you could unleash is indeed unimaginable, but…

The young Hydral clenched his formidable and majestic serpent-headed scepter, his face bearing the unique sternness and stability of a ruler.

Adapting plans according to the changing situation and available resources—Ansel's greatest strength lies in this capability.

Even amidst thunderstorms against fate, he possesses the power to cleave through the towering tides.

"So… the first step."

Ansel's lips curved into a slight smile, though it carried a hint of coldness.

"It's time for a long-overdue taming session with dear Miss Ravenna."

*

Initially, Ravenna was unaware of the reason Ansel had summoned her to the manor.

However, as he led her to the alchemical workshop beneath the manor, she began to grasp the ordeal that awaited her.

Ansel lounged on a plush sofa, his legs crossed, in a room that seemed too leisurely for an alchemist's forge, suggesting that this place was more than a mere workshop.

"Ravenna," he said, propping his cheek with his hand, his smile warm as he regarded the petite puppet standing before him, her head slightly bowed, "Today, Evora came to me quite unexpectedly, and she seemed... rather displeased."

"Is it concerning the data system?" Ravenna responded softly.

"Yes, she believes you've been somewhat ungrateful," Ansel shook his head, "to refuse without giving a reason, and moreover..."

"Moreover, she mentioned you were muttering something about... assassinating the empress?"

"...!"

Ravenna's frame shuddered slightly at his words, and Ansel's smile deepened, though his tone betrayed a sense of helplessness and irritation, "My dear Ravenna, do you realize the trouble you've caused me?"

"I—"

"Of course, I don't mind you indulging in your peculiar delusions," his voice was deceptively light, yet his words were sharp and cold, "It's your right, and frankly, I'm indifferent. But your inexplicable words and thoughts have brought me nothing but trouble..."

The young Hydral tapped the armrest lightly, "Isn't this, perhaps, a bit too much?"

"I… understand, I'm very sorry, Ansel... Lord Ansel."

The small frame in the white lab coat appeared exceedingly fragile.

Her pure determination, far from being valued by Ansel, had become a burden to him. Her grand and resolute vision had not even commenced before it started causing Ansel inconvenience.

How… utterly absurd.

"Make your apologies with some sincerity, Ravenna," Ansel suggested, tilting his chin up slightly, his tone leisurely, "You know what I favor, don't you?"

Ravenna almost instantly understood why Ansel had called her here.

Was this a… reprimand, or rather, a form of taming?

The long-absent attempt to dissect her innermost being and personality, to make her succumb step by step to Ansel's control, was something that once incited her anger and resistance. Now, it made her feel less anxious.

Because it signified that… Ansel had not completely and utterly given up on her.

There was still a sliver of possibility.

It's alright... This situation was not unforeseen. The most appropriate course of action had already been contemplated.

Despite such thoughts, Ravenna's hands still trembled.

Ansel's declaration, which had plunged her into an abyss of reason, had become her greatest constraint, liberating her from pure rationality, ensuring she would not always seek to resolve everything with absolute reason at the first instance.

Thus, the current Ravenna was exceedingly nervous about what she was about to do.

She took a deep breath, methodically removed her white lab coat, and neatly folded it.

Then, she unbuttoned her undergarment, folding it with equal precision and placing it atop the coat.

Next, she removed her skirt, a garment that clung more closely to her form, and placed her high-heeled shoes, which the petite scholar had arranged with care, beside her.

Finally, Miss puppet, clad only in semi-transparent black pantyhose, closed her eyes, removed her glasses, and her skin flushed a tender pink from the rush of blood beneath.

Her breathing slightly hurried, she bent her knees and ultimately knelt down completely, resting her head on the back of her hands, arching her back and butt.

Ravenna Ziegler indeed knew what Ansel favored most, and she was indeed acquiescing in a manner that would appease him.

The woman who had initially resisted and resented Ansel, who had later become indifferent to him, now displayed her humility and vulnerability.

"Please... forgive me, Lord Ansel."

After all, it was my mistake, and if it pleased Ansel, I am willing to proceed.

Moreover, what was paramount… was maintaining the fragile equilibrium between me and Ansel.

Would this act of appeasement need to continue for an extended period?

On this matter, Ravenna was uncertain.

Yet, she found that she did not harbor much resistance.

*

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