Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 28: Legacy

"I am innocent!" Chu Fang’s roar echoed through the damp, cold corridors of the Ogre Academy’s underground dungeon.

The heavy iron door groaned on its hinges as the Disciplinary Squad shoved him into the darkness.

"I was framed! You have to believe me! That Elder lied! Damn it! Damn it all to hell!"

The door slammed shut with a final, metallic thud, leaving him in a suffocating gloom lit only by a flicker of a dying torch in the hallway.

Chu Fang slumped against the rough stone wall, his breath coming in ragged hitches.

The intoxicating high of his earlier victory had vanished, replaced by the bitter, cold reality of his powerlessness.

That Buo Li... just you wait, he hissed internally, his eyes burning with a vengeful light. I’ll kill you. I’ll slaughter you all. And that Elder—how dare you frame a regressor? Once I break out of here, I’ll make every single one of you crawl through your own blood!

He began to frantically search his memory for the "Dungeon Escape" techniques he had trained as a soldier in his previous life.

He was a man who knew the future; surely, a mere cell couldn’t hold a destined sovereign.

But then, the air in the cell began to warp, and Taro began to feel a suffocating kind of pressure.

A cold wind brushed by, and the torchlight flickered before dying, and a darkness more profound than night flooded the space, a vacuum so absolute that even the sound of his own breathing seemed to be swallowed.

Chu Fang’s eyes widened as he scrambled to his feet, his back against the cold stone. "Who’s there?! I am a disciple of the Ogre Academy! My master is the famous grandmaster! How dare you trespass here?!"

Of course, he was just bluffing. As someone from the future, Chu Fang never liked that arrogant but incompetent Grand Master, but he knew that his name still holds weight.

Just then, a ripple appeared in the center of the cell, and Qing’er stepped out of the void.

Her long black hair seemed to devour a light that shouldn’t exist, and her eyes were like twin pools of blood frozen under the moonlight.

Chu Fang froze, his mouth hanging open.

Even in his two lives combined, he had never seen a woman of such ethereal, terrifying beauty.

For a fleeting second, the perverted instincts of the Kama Deva Sutra flared—a desire to possess such a creature.

But he never got the chance to speak as Qing’er’s hand blurred, her slender fingers clamped onto his forehead with the force of a hydraulic press.

"Soul Search," she whispered.

"AAAAHHHH!" Chu Fang’s scream was a guttical, soul-tearing sound that never left the room.

It felt as though a red-hot iron hook had been shoved into his mind, dragging his very essence out through his pores.

Every memory, every secret, every "future" event he had hoarded was stripped bare.

Just then, a golden orb, pulsing with the frantic energy of a dying consciousness, flew out of his forehead and hovered steadily above Qing’er’s palm.

Qing’er stared at the orb, her expression one of cold, clinical detachment as she observed it.

She didn’t peer into the memories, after all, as a perfect servant, she understood the boundaries of her position; the contents of this memories were for her young master alone, and what she needed to know is what her young master will tell her once he got this memories.

Thinking of that, she tightened her grip on the space around the orb, compressing it until it was no larger than a pearl and storing inside her Personal Space.

A Saint Realm expert can interfere with space, and can even create a pocket space for them to store things.

She then turned her gaze to what was left of Chu Fang.

He was still standing, but the light had left his eyes, his mouth was slack, a trail of drool escaping his lips.

The Soul Search had been a total mind breaker, destroying his personality, his memories, and even his cognitive functions had been incinerated.

He was a hollow vessel, a brain-dead husk.

This is the side effect of Soul Search, that’s why this was normally only used to criminals.

With a flick of her wrist, the shadows at his feet rose like hungry serpents, and they coiled around him, dragging him down into the floor.

There was no blood, not even a struggle, he was simply swallowed whole, erased from the world as if he had never existed.

Qing’er adjusted her sleeve and vanished into the rippling air.

*

*

*

Back at the Royal Palace, the afternoon sun cast a warm, lazy glow over the royal garden.

The scent of blooming jasmine filled the air, and the distant sound of a fountain provided a soothing rhythm to the stillness.

Shen Haoran sat on a curved marble bench, leaning back comfortably.

He was fully clothed now in robes of ivory and gold, though his hair remained slightly disheveled.

In his lap lay Ning Xueli. She was draped in a light silk wrap, acting uncharacteristically spoiled as she lay with her eyes closed, using his thigh as a pillow.

Haoran’s hand moved in a slow, rhythmic motion, caressing her dark hair.

He had indeed been "wild" with her earlier—showing a great display of dominance and passion that had left her physically spent.

Her skin still held a faint, glossy glow, and her breathing was the deep, heavy sigh of someone whose body had been pushed to its absolute limits.

Just then, the air shimmered, and Qing’er appeared, kneeling on the grass beside the bench.

She held her hand out, the golden orb of Chu Fang’s life sparkling in the sunlight.

"Young Master," she said softly.

"Thank you, Qing’er." Haoran didn’t stop caressing Xueli’s hair, he merely waved a finger, and the orb floated into the air, drifting toward his brow.

And as it touched his skin, it dissolved, and the floodgates of a decade of "future" history opened in his mind.

Haoran’s eyes remained open, but his pupils dilated as he processed the data.

He saw the rise of the Spirit Hall, the fall of kingdoms, the locations of ancient Emperor tombs, and the eventual stalemate of the Nirvana Rebirth experts.

He filtered through the dross—the perverted fantasies Chu Fang had about Xueli and Ziyan—and deleted them with a mental snort of disgust.

After a few seconds, he sat back, a genuine, amused smile playing on his lips.

"I can’t believe that something truly interesting was actually hidden in this small, stagnant place," Haoran murmured.

His hand, which had been gently stroking Xueli’s hair, stopped as he reached down and playfully poked her soft cheek. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Xueli groaned, letting out a low, feline sound of protest as she turned over, burying her face into his stomach to block out the light. "Just five more minutes... you’re the one who wouldn’t let me sleep..."

"Do you want to be a Supreme?"

The words were spoken softly, but they had the effect of a thunderclap.

Xueli’s eyes snapped wide open as she sat up so fast she nearly bumped her head against his chin.

Her hair was a mess, and her wrap slipped slightly, but she didn’t care. "W-What? S-Supreme? As in... a Supreme Emperor?"

Haoran nodded, his golden eyes dancing with amusement. "Indeed. The path to the peak. Do you want it?"

To the people of the Eastern Region, a "Supreme" was a myth, a being of legend who could command the laws of the universe.

To Haoran, however, a Supreme legacy from a backwater region was merely a decent starter kit.

His own clan had living Supremes serving as guardians, completely hidden from the rest of the world.

This legacy of "Bright Silver Emperor" mentioned in Chu Fang’s memories was a middle-tier power at best in the grand scale of the Central Region.

After all, there are different level of powers even amongst Supreme Emperors.

If this Bright Silver Emperor was truly powerful, he would’ve left legends in the central region, but he did not, and frankly, Haoran, who considered himself quite well versed in history, had never heard of him.

Still, it was the perfect "remodeling" tool for Xueli.

"I... I don’t..." Xueli hesitated, her voice trembling. She looked at him, feeling a sudden, intense wave of imposter syndrome. "I don’t think I’m worth that much, Haoran. I’m just a girl from a clan in a small region. To give me a Supreme Legacy just because... just because of what happened earlier... it’s too much."

Haoran chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I am giving it to you, so you will take it. I don’t like to repeat myself, Xueli. You are mine now, and I don’t allow my people to be weak."

He leaned in, his voice turning more serious. "However, there is a catch. If you accept this legacy now, you will have to enter a state of deep meditative seclusion to integrate the Emperor’s bloodline. You will have to miss the Regional Youth Tournament."

Xueli stared at him, her mind spinning. The tournament she had trained for her entire life, the glory she had sought for the Ogre Academy... she compared it to the promise of becoming a Supreme Emperor.

It was like comparing a copper coin to a sun.

She realized then that Haoran wasn’t just being generous; he was testing her.

He wanted to see if she could let go of her "small pond" ambitions to grasp the ocean.

"The tournament..." she whispered, then a slow, resolute smile spread across her face. "Is a fight between kids more appetizing than the path to godhood? I’m not that stupid, Haoran."

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. "Very well. Thank you... for everything. I’ll take it."

Haoran smirked, satisfied. "Good. Qing’er, prepare the Profound Ark’s cultivation chamber. We’re going to give the Cao Yin Kingdom a Supreme Empress they never expected."