Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

The infiltration began with brutal efficiency.

Two of the largest, most scarred shadow guards were now wearing the tattered leather armor stripped from the fallen Syndicate scouts, tied thick, scratchy hemp ropes around the Null-Stone cuffs of Ji’an and Yichen.

They secured the ends of the ropes to the saddles of the captured bandit horses, forcing the "captives" to trudge through the deep mud behind them.

Ji’an immediately slipped into character. She let her shoulders slump, dragging her feet, forcing a look of wide-eyed, exhausted terror onto her makeup-smudged face, which looked sickly and fragile.

Yichen, to his credit, also played the part.

He walked with a feigned, delicate limp, keeping his head bowed, allowing the dark curtain of his hair to obscure his furious, calculating eyes.

His padded chest shifted awkwardly with every step, a constant, humiliating reminder of the chef’s audacity.

They marched for two hours deeper into the labyrinthine ravine. The towering pine trees grew thicker, their branches weaving together to completely blot out the sunlight.

A thick, unnatural white fog began to roll over the muddy ground, smelling of ozone and decayed spiritual energy.

"The Nine-Palace Illusion Array," one of the disguised shadow guards whispered under his breath, his hand tight on the reins. "Keep your eyes forward, Your Highness. Martial Uncle. Do not look directly into the fog."

Ji’an stared straight ahead. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see terrifying, shifting shapes within the white mist, phantom beasts, ghostly figures with hollow eyes, and twisting, impossible geometry that made her stomach churn.

The array was designed to disorient, trap, and slowly drive intruders insane.

But because they were being led by the captured horses, which had been previously keyed to the array’s safe paths, they navigated the illusions without incident.

Suddenly, the fog parted.

They stood before a massive, gaping cavern entrance carved directly into the side of a sheer cliff.

The entrance was flanked by two towering statues of demonic beasts, their eyes glowing with red, alarm-triggering runes.

Standing before the statues were a dozen heavily armed Syndicate sentries. They looked rough, desperate, and radiated dark, chaotic Qi.

"Halt!" the lead sentry barked, raising a rusted halberd. "Identify yourselves!"

The lead shadow guard stepped forward, dropping into a crude, thuggish slouch. "Scouting party four, returning from the border highway! We hit a jackpot! Royal carriage, lightly guarded!"

The sentry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

He stepped forward, grabbing a torch and waving it over the two exhausted, mud-covered captives trailing behind the horses.

The torchlight illuminated Ji’an’s pale, dirt-smudged face, her wide, terrified silver-flecked eyes, and her slender, fragile-looking frame.

The sentry let out a low, vulgar whistle. "Well, well. Look at the skin on this one. A prime, yet fragile little young master. The Boss will love draining the Yin from this pretty boy!"

Ji’an forced a dramatic, terrified sob, shrinking back against the ropes, though internally she was coldly calculating how many seconds it would take to jam her thumbs into the sentry’s eye sockets.

Then, the sentry moved the torch to Xiao Yichen.

The flickering firelight caught the brilliant, ruined peach silk.

It illuminated the flawless, aristocratic jawline, the dark, sweeping eyelashes, and, most prominently, the incredibly generous, linen-stuffed cleavage pushed up by the tight bodice of the dress.

The sentry’s jaw literally dropped. The other bandits around the gate crowded closer, letting out a chorus of crude, amazed mutters.

"By the blood of the ancestors," the lead sentry breathed, his eyes glued entirely to Yichen’s padded chest. "That is... that is a mountain of a woman. A bit tall, but Heavens above, look at those curves! She’s built like a warhorse!"

Xiao Yichen, the Imperial Second Prince of the Azure Empire, a man whose beauty had caused noblewomen to faint in the imperial court, closed his eyes.

His long, elegant fingers twitched against the Null-Stone cuffs.

The sheer, overwhelming desire to slaughter every single man in this cavern was a physical, burning agony in his blood.

’A warhorse,’ Yichen’s mind fractured. ’He called me a warhorse.’

Ji’an bit her lip so hard she tasted copper, desperately fighting the urge to howl with laughter. ’It worked!’ she cheered internally. ’The pillows worked! They are completely distracted by the fake boobs! I am such a tactical genius! Seriously, they should bow down to me for making such an extraordinary, flawless disguise for their prince!’

"Get them inside!" the sentry barked, waving them through the gates with greedy enthusiasm. "Take them straight to the sorting hall! Vice-Chief Mad Dog is doing the intakes tonight. He’s going to lose his mind when he sees the size of this broad!"

The heavy iron gates groaned open as the shadow guards yanked the ropes, dragging Ji’an and Yichen into the dark, echoing belly of the Blood-Iron Syndicate.

***

The interior of the subterranean fortress was a sprawling, horrifying monument to stolen wealth and debauchery.

The main cavern was massive, illuminated by stolen chandeliers hung haphazardly from stalactites. The air was thick with the smell of roasting meat, stale alcohol, and unwashed bodies.

Hundreds of rogue cultivators sat around massive wooden tables, drinking, fighting, and gambling.

Along the walls were heavy iron cages, packed with miserable, terrified captives, merchants, runaway cultivators, and mortals snatched from the highways.

Ji’an’s eyes darted frantically through the crowds, scanning the cages. ’Where is he? Where is my Xuan? Where did they keep him?’

They were led to the very center of the cavern, toward a raised stone dais.

Sitting on a throne made of stolen Imperial silk pillows was a hulking, heavily scarred behemoth of a man.

Half of his face was covered in a crude, metal plate.

This was Vice-Chief Mad Dog, the second-in-command of the Syndicate.

"New meat has arrived, Vice-Chief!" the disguised shadow guard announced, shoving Ji’an and Yichen forward, who stumbled to their knees at the base of the dais.

Mad Dog leaned forward, resting his massive, meaty hands on his knees. His single, good eye swept over the two captives.