Ascension Of The Villain-Chapter 296: Fighting Poison With Poison

Destructive Magic.

It was exactly what it sounded like.

A merciless force that could reduce anything it touched to nothing but dust. A singular, devastating power—bestowed upon the Ashstone bloodline by the Goddess Hecate herself. An invisible blade meant to obliterate any threat daring enough to endanger the Haynes Empire.

It had been created for one purpose: protection.

And House Ashstone had never strayed from that path. Not once.

Never had they used their power for selfish gain. Never had they unleashed it for personal ambition. It had always been wielded for the sake of stopping catastrophes, whatever shape they took—landslides, floods, monster invasions, enemy sieges. It didn't matter. Against all odds, Destructive Magic stood as an invincible shield.

An invincible shield... that the imperial family could never stop resenting.

Over the years, the imperials cloaked their envy in scorn. They ridiculed Destructive Magic as something fit for beasts, a crude, monstrous gift far beneath their supposed elegance. Purification, healing—those were the powers that, according to them, "befitted" a ruler. They preferred being called the "guardians" of Haynes—pristine, noble, untouchable—while branding the Ashstones as little more than rabid hounds trained to bite and break.

But irony had a twisted sense of humor.

Despite wielding a power that could level mountains, the Ashstones were always the calmer ones—the earth to the imperial family's tempestuous skies. Passive. Disciplined. Reluctant to provoke, eager only to defend.

It didn't take long for the people to see the truth.

The imperial family might have sat atop the throne, but it was House Ashstone that guarded Haynes. And the realization cut the imperials deeper than any blade ever could—especially as their own bloodline's powers began to wither and fade.

They had no idea they were architects of their own downfall.

And they certainly didn't understand that Destructive Magic came at a terrible cost.

If unleashed in an unstable emotional state, it could devour anything—including loved ones.

House Ashstone bore the scars of such tragedies, generation after generation.

Controlling the power was a brutal, merciless endeavor, even with a mentor's help.

Without one? Nearly impossible.

Yet, Vyan had mastered it.

In the frigid north of Haynes, among endless fields of ice and isolation, he destroyed, again and again—countless ice heaps shattered into oblivion—until at last, he learned how to channel the magic without wrecking everything in its path.

It had taken more than a whole year. Endless practice. Seemingly never ending frustration. Relentless patience.

His first awakening, though...

He had wiped out an entire marketplace.

Hundreds of lives, gone in an instant.

It was Iyana who had buried the crime, spinning it into a cold case that would never see the light of day.

Now, with the raw, destructive force at his fingertips, no demon could hope to touch him.

Especially not with the dark magic resistance he had carved into his very being.

Though "resistance" was putting it nicely—it was more like fighting poison with another, deadlier poison.

The original flaw—the nick in his mana circuit—had made him vulnerable to dark magic. So Vyan did something unthinkable. He created a second nick.

Only this one wasn't just a flaw—it was a weapon. A modified rupture, built with his own enchantments and fueled by an external source of mana, designed specifically to counter dark magic.

He had studied the anatomy of the mana circuit like a madman. Discovered where dark magic first breached the body of a normal person: the nape.

The original nick was near his heart, close to his mana core—too sensitive to deal with.

But this new breach point?

If dark magic entered there, it could be expelled before ever reaching his core.

It was a reckless gamble.

The kind that could've ended with him dead, broken from the inside out. freēwēbnovel.com

But it worked.

He hadn't breathed a word about it to anyone but Clyde—especially not to Iyana. Because admitting the truth meant admitting that he had nearly died to pull it off.

And honestly? It had been worth every agonizing second.

Right now, he felt untouchable.

Another demon, either suicidal or deeply misinformed, lunged at Vyan from the left.

With a lazy flick of his wrist, he caught it mid-air, mumbled a flat, "No," and incinerated it on the spot.

Poff. Ash. Again.

Jade let out a shriek of pure frustration. Her claws dug into the air like she wished she could shred space itself.

"That stupidly overpowered destructive magic!" she screamed, practically stomping in mid-air. "It's not even fair!"

Vyan, who was now casually dusting off his coat again, looked up with the most annoying look known to man and monster.

A single eyebrow arched. His lips curled in that smug little half-smile that promised violence with style.

"Who wants to come at me next?" he asked like a man inviting kittens to tea knowing full well they were all tigers.

The remaining eight demons froze mid-hover.

Jade hissed like a kettle about to blow.

And Vyan? He just smiled wider.

Honestly, he was having fun.

Jade snapped and bared her fangs in a snarl, her patience—already paper-thin—finally tearing.

"Don't let him get close!" she shrieked. "Attack from a distance! Bury him in dark spells!"

The demons roared in unison and scattered like a murder of crows, wings beating furiously as they took position in the ceiling above Vyan, forming a wide, shifting circle. Their palms lit up with swirling orbs of dark energy—sickly green, molten red, violet laced with crackling black lightning.

And then, with a screech that rattled the chandeliers, the first volley came.

Dozens of energy blasts rained down like meteors.

Vyan barely had time to sigh.

He clapped his hands together, and a massive crimson barrier erupted around him in a perfect sphere, shimmering with intricate runes that pulsed with each impact.

The first few attacks struck the shield and fizzled out, exploding harmlessly in mid-air.

But more followed.

Dozens more.

Each impact rocked the marbles beneath his feet. Dust and debris flew up in chaotic waves. Vyan's barrier flickered, dimming for just a second under the weight of the barrage.

"Oh, now you're trying," he muttered.

He glanced up at the wall of incoming projectiles and cracked his neck.

"Time to get creative."

The ground beneath him pulsed once—and four glowing sigils flared outward in a circle. A moment later, four stone golems rose from the earth, massive and jagged, like war-titans summoned from deep within the planet's core.

With a wave of his hand, he sent them leaping skyward, intercepting blasts mid-air, their thick bodies exploding into rubble—but slowing the attack.

He didn't stop there.

A quick swirl of his hand and a torrent of ice shards rained down like a frozen monsoon with wind that was sharp enough to cut.

The creature screamed and darted away, trailing frost and fury. Using ice or water magic was a little tough and it required more mana than his innate fire magic, but since demons were created out of fire, it was hard to cause them much damage with it.

Either way, he felt the initiation of fatigue creep in.

It was starting.

His mana was draining.

Even though he made it seem like he had an infinite supply of mana, it simply wasn't possible. Vast as it may be, it was still limited.

And had creating an extra nick causing him to exhaust faster? Was his decision to fight his poison with a deadlier poison a wrong one? Well, there was no way to tell for sure until he did reach the limit.

That being said, he still had a long way to go before he reached that point. These demons were stubbornly persistent, though.

Another demon began charging an explosive curse, but a chain of swirling water surged from Vyan's palm, wrapping around the demon like a whip, pulling it down with a violent crack. It hit the ground hard—and didn't get back up.

Vyan rolled his wrist, water still dancing along his knuckles.

"Seven down."

He turned, sliding aside just as another projectile sliced past his cheek. A thin red line appeared and vanished in seconds, healed by a soft golden glow of Althea's healing magic pulsing.

She was in the rear, watching out for healing any injuries and making sure at least Edgar didn't escape.

Another demon howled and unleashed a barrage of molten spikes.

Vyan crouched low, punched the ground—and a line of fire raced forward in response. The moment it touched the spikes, it exploded outward into a fiery wall, consuming the incoming attack and sending a shockwave up into the demon's face.

"Eight."

The air turned darker as five more demons manifested themselves, and Vyan cursed inwardly.

Just how many demons does this woman have a contract with?

He didn't even want to think about how many lives she must have sacrificed to gain this high-level of power. It seemed like she had an enormous supply of energy. She was even going toe to toe with an Ashstone!

Jade combined her power with the newly-appeared demons, charging a massive beam of compressed magic.

She laughed triumphantly. "He can't block that."

Vyan lifted his hand, palm facing the ceiling.

"Wrong," he said.

An enormous dome of ice rose around him—clear, smooth, refracting the deadly beam like a crystal mirror. When the attack struck it, it split, tearing off in harmless directions, scorching the walls of the lavish hall.

Mana output had to be still under fifty percent.

But he wasn't sure how much Jade still had up her sleeve.

Jade screamed in frustration.

"NOW! All at once! Burn him! Rip him apart!"

The remaining seven demons descended from all angles, spiraling down, howling, casting spells, ready to overwhelm him.

Vyan's smile disappeared.

His hands moved—fast. So fast they blurred.

Multiple ice chains appeared and shot out at the demons' direction, clamping their disgusting mouths shut, as they were slammed to the ground in a giant pile.

"Perish."

It was just one touch. And all of them were gone. Destroyed. Evaporated into ashes.

The demons were gone.

Every last one.