A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Realizing that staying alive would better divert attention, Boneblade abandoned thoughts of martyrdom. Pursued by two third-stage extraordinary beings, he fought and fled, eventually reaching the wasteland over ten kilometers away from Dispute Fortress.

By this point, he was at the end of his rope.

"Why don't you keep running?"

The sorcerer in a robe swung his staff, a fireball deliberately landing before Boneblade in a mocking gesture. He raised his chin and sneered, "We were planning to enjoy watching you scramble like a stray dog a bit longer. Hahaha."

"Hey, want a couple of potions to drink?" another adventurer jeered, "Torturing a cripple is no fun."

With all ten fingers severed, one eye gouged out, his nose entirely cut off, and his tattered cloak stained dark from the soaked blood, Boneblade, whose body was almost entirely covered in wounds, panted heavily, barely able to stand.

Truthfully, making it this far was a miracle of miracles.

The precious moment of surprise killing the guards, the almost unguarded path to Milo's office, and now only being pursued by two individuals who seemed to toy with him—Boneblade considered himself very fortunate.

The intelligence he had obtained from Milo's office had already been transmitted to other members of the Revolutionary Army within Dispute Fortress through secret methods. His only regret now was that after his death, he would no longer be able to divert Inothea's attention, unable to contribute further.

Nonetheless, Boneblade had no intention of surrendering meekly to death.

"I apologize for lingering on so tenaciously," he muttered in a voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable, stumbling as he summoned his power. From his joints, gleaming bone blades slowly emerged.

Boneblade still remembered how that young man was crushed into pulp by Inothea's claw. He also recalled the naive yet powerful words the youth had spoken after joining the Revolutionary Army.

Reflecting now, he felt another regret... allowing such a young and kind person to die.

In this world, the kindhearted were increasingly rare. A young, kind person who could never extinguish their fervor was more precious than any secret treasure.

"Redhawk, we'll... meet in the new world…"

Boneblade whispered, using his body as his final weapon, charging at the two extraordinary beings who continued to mock him, knowing that his end would come in the next moment.

And so, it did.

From above, a figure plummeted like a meteor. By the time the two extraordinary beings felt the terrifying pressure from above, it was too late.

Boom—!

Even the most destructive classic fire explosion spells couldn't produce such an exaggerated spectacle, with dust soaring skyward. Boneblade was blown away by the shockwave, rolling at least a dozen meters before losing consciousness.

"Ah, one down already?"

A surprised female voice came from the dust cloud. "How could this... Oh, he was half-crippled to begin with. Hey, are you two joking? Making such a fuss over a cripple."

Bang!

With a stomp of her foot, Seraphina dispersed the dust instantly. She massaged her wrist as she walked towards the two extraordinary beings, whose expressions were turning increasingly grim.

"Well, haha... Isn't this Miss Fenrir? What a coincidence!"

Due to repeated warnings from Milo and Inothea, the extraordinary beings of Dispute Fortress had etched the name of the "Wicked Wolf" of the lower district into their minds, knowing she was trouble not to be provoked. So when Seraphina showed up, they recognized her immediately.

The sorcerer forced a couple of dry laughs and then tried to leverage the Whistling Legion's authority to suppress her, saying, "That guy was captured by Lord Inothea recently, suspected rebel. We're here to apprehend him."

"Who he is and what you're here for, who cares?"

Seraphina raised an eyebrow, pointing her thumb towards the small town about a kilometer or two away. "I'm living there now. If I hadn't noticed, were you planning to demolish the place?"

"No, no... we wouldn't dare," the sorcerer quickly forced a smile. "We'll take him away right now. We'll leave immediately."

As he spoke, he moved his staff, lifting Boneblade into the air, preparing to take him away.

"Leave? Who said you could leave?"

Boneblade, who had just been lifted a few centimeters off the ground, was abruptly dropped. The sorcerer's face froze, partly because of Seraphina's blatant disregard and partly because… he had no idea how she severed the ether flow, nullifying his spell.

"I'm currently in need of two punching bags," the wolfish smile on Seraphina's face grew as her hair fluttered in the breeze.

"Take a couple of punches from me first."

—In reality, surviving even one punch would be considered a success.

Seraphina, considering they hadn't yet managed to damage the town, threw only one punch, sparing their lives.

Watching the two weaklings flee in a panic, Seraphina pursed her lips, disappointed by the lack of a challenge.

She turned her gaze to Boneblade, who was barely clinging to life, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

Without a doubt, in Seraphina's view, the Revolutionary Army was synonymous with scoundrels.

However, the controllers of Dispute Fortress were the scoundrels of the worst scoundrels.

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Even though the Revolutionary Army resorted to questionable methods and their motives might not be entirely pure, at least they objectively helped the common people. In contrast, the scoundrels of Dispute Fortress were the ones shoving civilians into the mines... Seraphina would settle the score with them eventually.

So, comparatively, Seraphina didn't mind saving a member of the Revolutionary Army. Of course, it wasn't just that.

"Since you've been captured and tortured like this..."

Seraphina crouched beside Boneblade, rubbing her hands together. "You must know quite a few secrets about those bastards, right? Maybe I can use that!"

Seraphina never missed an opportunity to create better prospects for the lower district. If this Revolutionary Army member had valuable information, it could bring significant benefits to the lower district.

Without hesitation, she poured a potion down Boneblade's throat and casually tossed the empty vial aside, waiting for him to wake up.

Minutes passed, and his wounds were nearly healed, but he still hadn't opened his eyes. Growing impatient, the young girl raised her hand and slapped Boneblade across the face.

"Hey, wake up! It's time to wake up! Ah... what a bother!"

The slap instantly roused Boneblade from unconsciousness. Although still somewhat dazed, he was at least awake.

As his vision gradually focused, a strikingly beautiful face appeared before him.

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