A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 405: The Only Color - One - II

How Evora came to know the specifics of the mechanical armor was no longer something Ravenna could afford to ponder, as her first instinct upon hearing the request was to refuse.

Although Evora's strength and status were enough to allow her to act unbridled within the empire, how could she, with her extreme thirst for power, miss such an opportunity? And if an ether armament suitable for Evora was indeed created, what would she do with such power?

...Ansel.

A frigid chill instantly seized Ravenna's heart.

She recalled Ansel, and that young Hydral, his calm yet frenzied shot in Pelican City.

Miss puppet instinctively glanced at Evora's profile, at the scar forcefully healed by her flame of feast, still vivid and unmistakable.

For Evora, this was an unforgivable disgrace.

The discord between Ansel and Evora was well-known throughout the empire. And for the tyrannical princess, who needed no reason for destruction and havoc, her vengeance was likely already scheduled.

Fearing the weapon crafted for Ansel by Lord Flamelle, did she seek to enhance her strength with Etheric armaments... for her revenge?

Indeed, Evora needed no greater power, for there was none worthy of her confrontation at this stage, with external forces, except for... Ansel.

She must not agree, she absolutely must not.

"...Your Highness," Ravenna closed her eyes, murmuring, "If it's Etheric Armaments you require, I regret to say... with my current capabilities and those of the Tower of Babel, it's impossible to create."

"Hm?"

Evora's tone slightly rose, the flame in her eyes causing the office temperature to surge, scorching Ravenna's skin, making even breathing a torment.

"Are you... refusing me?"

She looked down upon Ravenna, a terrifying ferocity emerging from her gaze. The next moment, Ravenna's expression turned to one of agony, she stumbled and fell, her body convulsing violently.

Flames... inside body...

Evora stuffed a ball of flame into her innards!

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Ravenna spat out a mouthful of scalding, dark red blood, the intense steam proving the torment she was enduring.

Amidst her nearly shattered thoughts, Ravenna's mind once again recalled the words spoken by Ansel, the expressions he showed, the details she had not noticed before, now vividly clear.

And Annelisa's sorrowful whisper:

["He's very sad."]

In that moment, a soul pain more unbearable than physical torture struck again.

The chaotic memories drilled through her skull, cleaved her brain, and mercilessly penetrated her deepest will, along with the burning meant only to torment, obliterating Ravenna's remaining thoughts.

Her consciousness plunged into the deepest abyss, and before that...

Ravenna seemed to see someone fiercely pouncing on Evora from behind, while feeling something dark and coldly terrifying enveloping her from behind.

Though it was some incomprehensible terror, Ravenna felt completely at ease before losing consciousness.

Because she heard, that familiar voice saying:

"Evora, you will pay the price."

*

When Ravenna awoke once more, she found herself in a gray and white room.

The furniture, decorations, and the petite figure sitting at the desk quickly made her realize that she was currently within a memory from her past.

Her exceptional memory allowed her to recognize that she was observing a memory from when she was around four or five years old.

Ravenna Ziegler, a prodigy among prodigies, was able to fluently converse with others and write to a certain extent by the age of one, or more precisely, eleven months.

Additionally, she was a born extraordinary being, capable of ascending without the need for ritualistic assistance. Thus, from the moment of her birth, Ravenna possessed a treasure of talent and ability as both a "human" and an "extraordinary being" that many could only dream of but never attain.

Such a genius was destined for limitless glory, to achieve the pinnacle of brilliance surrounded by countless admirers, and to have a perfectly happy life.

However, her childhood was far from such.

That brief yet most meaningful period of her life had no connection to... happiness.

*