NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

Only a handful in the empire even knew the chamber existed.

And fewer still had ever stepped inside.

A vault of obsidian and spiritglass, hidden beneath the eastern wing of the capital's palace, it was reserved for one kind of visitor:

Those who shouldn't exist… but did.

Tonight, the chamber opened for her.

The Black Phoenix

She arrived unescorted.

No guards.

No entourage.

No fanfare.

Just presence — so heavy it made even the cultivator-etched walls hum with tension.

Her robes were black silk, feather-threaded, trailing like the shadows of wings. Her hair, long and unbound, shimmered faintly red at the ends, as if dipped in cooling embers. Her face was veiled — but her voice…

Her voice was flame given shape.

"I request an audience," she said, tone calm but absolute.

The imperial steward trembled.

"With whom?"

A smile touched her unseen lips.

"As if you don't already know."

Hei Long Entered Alone

Dressed in plain black.

No insignia.

No blade.

He stepped into the chamber, and the door closed behind him with a thud that echoed through reality like a closing fate.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then she lifted her veil.

And the temperature dropped by ten degrees.

She was beautiful.

Not in the ethereal way of cultivator fairies.

But in the terrifying way that made one think:

"I must have loved you in a past life… and failed you completely."

Their First Words

"You look the same," she said.

"I'm not," Hei Long replied.

"Liar."

He said nothing.

She circled him — slowly, like smoke testing the edges of a fire.

"Do they know?"

"No."

"Not even her? The one with the blade and the glacier eyes?"

"No."

She smiled, slightly.

"She'd break," she said. "They all would."

"Why are you here?" Hei Long asked.

"You already know."

"I buried that name."

"I am that name."

He turned, sharply.

"You shouldn't be here."

"But I am," she said, stepping closer. "And I remember everything."

Flashback — A Lifetime Before

He held her in the snow, her chest cut open, blood pouring over his arms.

"You promised," she whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"You said you'd burn the sky before you let them take me."

"I failed."

She smiled, tearless.

Then died.

And when she did—

Hei Long broke.

Back to Now

"You weren't supposed to wake up," he said, voice raw for the first time in years.

"And yet here I am."

She looked him in the eyes.

And this time, there was no defense in his.

No coldness.

No walls.

Just… regret.

"I sealed your soul," he said. "To protect the others."

"You sealed it," she echoed, "to protect yourself."

She reached out, brushing a hand against his chest — right over the scar he never let the others see.

"I don't want revenge," she whispered. "I want what you promised."

He looked down at her hand.

And said nothing.

So she spoke again:

"Choose me… or unmake me again."

"But don't pretend you never did."

Above Them — Elsewhere in the Capital

Three women awoke at the exact same moment.

Zhao Yuran, chest heaving, covered in sweat.

Mu Yexin, heart racing, hands trembling.

Qingxue, gasping, blade drawn in her sleep.

All three had dreamed the same thing.

A burning sky.

A falling girl.

And Hei Long, screaming her name.

But none of them had ever heard that name before.

And all of them felt threatened.

Later — Hei Long Alone

She had left.

No final words.

No demands.

Just silence.

But the message lingered in the air:

She wasn't asking to be chosen.

She was demanding to be remembered.

And that, Hei Long knew…

Was infinitely worse.

They said the last time a woman halted court without an army at her back, a dynasty ended before nightfall.

Today, it happened again.

The Court Was in Session

Ministers bickered.

Sect envoys debated territory rights.

The Empress sat above them all, chin resting on one hand, clearly unimpressed.

Hei Long stood beside her throne — still as ever, unreadable, dressed in obsidian robes with no clan insignia, no rank badge, and no visible blade.

But the room bent around his presence.

He was the one no one dared speak over.

Until someone did.

The Doors Opened

No guards announced it.

No trumpets.

Just two black-clad imperial guards suddenly collapsing — not from wounds, but from qi inversion. Their own spiritual flow reversed like water spun into a whirlpool.

Then—

A woman entered.

Barefoot.

Hair unbound.

Dressed in crimson-black robes threaded with phoenix feathers, the train trailing like scorched silk behind her.

She walked past nobles, past sect lords, past generals.

And not one of them dared move.

Because her qi burned.

Not with rage.

But with truth.

The Empress Rose

That alone nearly caused three ministers to faint.

The Empress never stood during court.

"Who enters the Hall of Balance without summons?" she asked, voice calm but sharp.

The woman stopped at the foot of the dais.

Unbowed.

Unshaken.

Eyes glowing with the faintest ember-red.

"I am not summoned," she said.

"I was buried."

The Empress's fingers tensed on the jade of her armrest.

"And your name?"

The woman looked past her.

Right at Hei Long.

And said, clearly—

"My name is Yan Yiren."

"And I am the one he tried to forget."

Gasps Spread Through the Room

Even Qingxue, watching from the shadows behind the sect balcony, stepped forward unconsciously.

Zhao Yuran dropped her scroll.

Mu Yexin's illusion butterfly flickered and vanished mid-flight.

Because even if they'd never heard the name—

They felt it.

Like a pressure in the bones.

A void, suddenly named.

Hei Long Didn't Flinch

Didn't move.

Didn't speak.

But the Empress turned to him.

Voice quiet.

"Confirm it."

He nodded.

Once.

A simple thing.

But it rang through the court like a war drum.

The Empress Whispered

"That name… was redacted from imperial records."

Yan Yiren smiled.

"A poor seal," she said. "Memories are harder to kill than people."

"And your intention?" the Empress asked.

"To reclaim what was owed."

She turned to Hei Long.

And said—

"I will not demand your love."

"But I will not stand in the shadows while you give your loyalty to those who came after."

"I am here to stand beside you, or burn everything that would keep me behind."

The Court Was Silent

One minister tried to speak.

He choked on smoke.

Not metaphorically.

The air had begun to burn — around Yan Yiren's feet, her qi sparking molten red beneath the tiles.

Qingxue moved to draw her sword.

Hei Long held up a hand.

She stopped.

Yan Yiren saw it.

And her expression softened.

Just slightly.

As if to say: "You still protect them."

The Empress Stepped Down

Slowly.

Regally.

Then faced Yan Yiren at level height.

"You seek place in the order of the empire?"

"I seek nothing," Yan Yiren said.

"Then why appear now?"

"Because I have remembered. And soon—" she turned again to Hei Long, "—so will he."

Hei Long Finally Spoke

Only two words.

But the whole court froze to hear them.

"Prove it."

She smiled.

The kind of smile that shouldn't exist on a battlefield, in a ballroom, or in the arms of a lover.

It was too real.

"Then grant me trial," she said. "And watch me burn through your ghosts."