I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 103: Tortured

Chapter 103: Tortured

"I just realized..."

Verena frantically patted down her clothes, tugged at her sleeves, checked her boots. There was nothing. No soft flutter, no glowing warmth. Saphira was gone.

"She’s always tucked under my sleeve!" she hissed under her breath. Her stomach dropped.

No Saphira. No Zodiacal Mimicry.

"Looking for your little snake?" Norvan’s voice curled like smoke. "She won’t be slithering to your rescue this time."

Verena cursed under her breath.

"You can’t access your Natal Affinity either," he added with a cruel smile. "This dungeon is laced with Null Tethering. I’ve been preparing this place for quite a while, actually. After all... one doesn’t just underestimate the Conduitor of Ophiuchus."

She glared at him. "How did you even know? And what the hell is Null Tethering?"

Norvan shrugged with mock innocence. "Let’s just say... snakes recognize their own," he tapped the bars between them, golden eyes gleaming. "And so, I followed the scales and the silence."

Ah, she remembered now.

Null Tethering is not a spell—it’s a binding ritual, a kind of arcane infrastructure that disrupts the link between a mage and their Natal Affinity.

It is something built into the location, imbued into stone, metal, or leyline veins. That’s why it’s mostly found in ancient fortresses, high-security towers, or royal interrogation vaults.

It’s used across the Empire in containment dungeons, high-risk academies, or blacksite research labs. Every major power has at least one Null Tethered site.

It prevents familiars, Threads, or summoned constructs from forming or reuniting. Even if Saphira were nearby, she’d feel like Verena was a blank space. Unreachable.

This was another reason why Evelyn was once locked in this dungeon so severely, it played such a significant role in the novel.

Ironically, the tables had turned.

Now it was Verena trapped in the castle, staring down at the dragon.

A single wrong move, be it a twitch, a breath out of place, and the creature before her would strike.

"So why didn’t you kill me? You had the chance."

"Because dead things don’t talk... and I want to hear you break first. Death is such an easy path."

This psycho really had character development in the worst way possible.

Smarter, crueler, far too cunning for his own good.

And somehow, that intelligence was the only thing keeping him toe-to-toe with Raphael.

Verena, on the other hand, had no idea what she brought to the table anymore.

In the novel, Norvan pampered Evelyn obsessively, He would chain her, adore her, cage her in velvet. All the twisted tropes of an unhinged male lead.

But this man?

He didn’t love Verena.

He hated her.

[SYSTEM WARNING]: CURRENT THREAT LEVEL BEYOND ALGORITHMIC SUPPORT.]

[System Intervention: Disabled.]

[Recommendation: Endure.]

[PLOT BRANCH DETECTED!]

[AFFECTION EVENT UNLOCKED: "The Heroine Saves the Knight"

[NARRATIVE TRAJECTORY UPDATE:]

[Due to unexpected plot drift and Evelyn’s increasing autonomy, the story has entered a divergent route.]

[Current Route: Heroine Awakening Arc][Role Shift: Knight-in-Distress Protocol Activated.]

...

...

[Warning: You Will Be Tortured By Norvan]

[Time Remaining: A Week]

[Please remain conscious for narrative progression.]

Fuck, so I really am helpless here, huh?

The cell door didn’t creak, it groaned like it was in on the cruelty.

Norvan entered with slow, deliberate steps, his cloak trailing behind him like spilled ink on stone. He didn’t carry weapons. He never needed to.

With him, the sharpest blade was memory and Verena was already bleeding from it.

She didn’t speak. She glared.

"Still pretending to be strong?" he mused, his voice too soft for the setting. "Let’s fix that."

The first day, he didn’t touch her. No chains, no fire. Just questions. Loaded ones. He sat across from her, calm and smiling, and began unpacking her.

"So, what did it feel like when you were about to use Evelyn for your own good, hm?"

"I didn’t—!"

"Oh, but you did, didn’t you?" he said sweetly, eyes glowing faintly gold. "The guilt’s still there. I can taste it."

[WARNING: RESONANCE FIELD ACTIVE.]

[Emotional sync: 78%]

[Vulnerability Index: Rising]

He whispered memories that weren’t his.

They were hers, dredged up like corpses from a frozen lake. Old regrets. Lost friends. The night she screamed at her mother. The short moment she chose power over kindness. Her first heartbreak.

He made her feel them all again. But worse.

Twisted.

Amplified.

By day three, she was flinching before he even spoke.

"You know what I hate about you, Verena?" he said casually, pacing the cell. "You’re always pretending to be above it. The scheming. The chaos. But you’re just like the rest of us. More scared than smart."

"Shut up," she hissed, her voice hoarse.

"Say it louder. I love watching the pride drip out of your mouth."

By day five, the hallucinations began.

He didn’t cause them, but he let them in. He resonated with her fear until the shadows whispered like people she once failed. Faces in the dark. Accusing eyes. Saphira. Evelyn. Raphael.

Sometimes Norvan sat silently in the corner while she was barely even breathing.

Other times, he’d speak just to remind her: "This? Isn’t even personal. You’re just useful right now."

And that made it worse.

By day six, she had stopped fighting.

Not because she gave up, but because he was so damn good at making her doubt her own memories. Her pain wasn’t even hers anymore. It belonged to him, and he handed it back like poisoned candy.

Still, she endured.

Even as her fingers trembled.

Even as her connection to the Weave flickered like a dying star.

Even as she curled in on herself, nails digging into her arms, whispering mantras she barely remembered from training.

Norvan stood at the threshold of her mind, smug and untouched.

"You’ll be beautiful when you break," he said. "Like all the best stories."

[Time Remaining: 24 Hours]

[Status: Rresilience at 9%]

The days have been an agonizing silence. Norvan stood at the door, watching her crumble, but with a subtle smile.

"You’re almost there, Verena," he whispered. "One last push. Then we’ll see if your spirit can survive the final test."

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