A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Today, on the seventh day before the start of this joke-like war, Hendrik called the first, and perhaps the last, high-level meeting of the Tower of Babel.

In the meeting room, Hendrik looked at the scholars, most of whom looked haggard and exhausted, and for a moment didn\'t know how to start.

To confront the Etheric Academy and the empress head-on... this absurd fact of despair had crushed them too many times in seven days.

All the higher-ups who knew the truth had collapsed in their research at some point, either angrily destroying materials, despairingly collapsing on the ground, or becoming completely numb, their minds in chaos, unable to even understand what they were doing.

Even Hendrik had to rely on alchemical drugs to maintain his condition under the heavy pressure.

"... So, ladies and gentlemen, how fares our progress?"

Yet the harsh reality was that neither the empress nor the Elder Princess cared for their struggles, their tyrannical flames of power never considering the hardships faced. Hendrik mustered his spirit, striving to imbue his voice with a calm and steady resolve: "Ronger, let us start with you."

Ronger, the most formidable in martial prowess within the Tower of Babel, massaged her temples and sighed, "I am endeavoring to forge a longsword integrated with composite essences. It remains incomplete, and I am uncertain of its completion before the deadline."

"...And you, Tartaglia?"

"I am crafting a dragonbone greatbow. With the resources from Her Highness Elder Princess, the process itself is not an issue. However, just like Ronger, it is a matter of time..."

Hendrik then inquired of several other alchemists and scholars within the Tower, the strongest in their field. Their responses were invariably about rushing their work or needing to adjust their unfinished creations.

If the weapon was not the epitome of perfection, it stood no chance against the Etheric Academy. This was not only Evora\'s belief but also that of Babel\'s upper echelons.

With a mere seven days... Improvements and upgrades were not the challenge, nor was the actual creation from nothing. The issue was that such efforts were simply insufficient.

The top sorcerers of Tower of Babel were not lacking in ability; it was the immense pressure they faced, demanding nothing less than the best. For these alchemists and scholars, \'the best\' often meant months or even years of dedication to a single inspiration.

Hence, alchemy is deemed the domain of geniuses.

No matter the level of skill, ability, or resources one possessed, the time it took to conceive an alchemical item was immeasurable. It was about capturing that fleeting inspiration, transforming thought into tangible form, turning daydreams into reality.

And the true genius lies in transforming what the mediocre ponder laboriously into a grand vision that the ordinary scorn, yet cannot fathom, into a reality that shakes the world.

The time allotted to them was far too short.

The people of Babel could not comprehend how, even with the Etheric Academy\'s profound heritage and the empress\' boundless resources, creation could be such a simple feat.

If the Etheric Academy possessed such capability, they would have already ground Babel to dust long ago, without resorting to any underhanded tactics.

"Why are you all focused on crafting these independent alchemical weapons?"

Amidst the increasingly suffocating pressure, a familiar, indifferent voice suddenly pierced the air.

Ravenna, seated at the end of the conference table, emotionlessly adjusted her glasses, "With the time at hand, why not direct our efforts towards advancing the research on new etheric firearms and floating cannons? This would surely be more beneficial than producing half-finished products."

Having been secluded in the alchemical workshop, she was unaware of the others\' progress and their creations. She had believed Ansel was correct; for sorcerers of their caliber, discussion yielded no tangible results. Focusing on their individual weapons was the optimal choice, but now it seemed...

Due to the immense pressure from Evora, everyone had fallen into the trap of pursuing perfection, coupled with the scarcity of time, resulting in no one being able to present a weapon ready for the impending war.

The woman gently closed her eyes, quelling the surging anger within her heart.

This was indeed... another trap set by Hydral.

It was not a product of paranoia or overthinking. The entire chain of thoughts formed in Ravenna\'s mind pointed to this conclusion.

Because the serpent knew very well that in this world, only she could keep up with his thoughts, only she... could perceive his unique transcendence.

All other alchemists and scholars were still trapped in the era itself. Even if they had witnessed the power of firearms and floating cannons, when considering true "strength", they would fall into the absurd circle of the old times at the first moment—

Swords, bows and arrows, armor, war hammers, scepters... as if only these weapons could exist in this world, as if ether circuits and essence attachments could only be used on these items.

It seemed that only by creating a "unique" weapon could one create a truly powerful weapon.

But there was a sentence, a casual remark that Ansel had made during a chat with her, that Ravenna remembered very clearly.

"The most precious and powerful attribute of all manufacturable items is \'mass production\'."

At first, Ravenna didn\'t think much of this statement, but as she further understood Ansel and saw the world in his eyes, she gained a truly profound understanding of this sentence.

Etheric firearms indeed broke the limitations of traditional weapons, but their initial appearance did not plunge the entire empire into an irresistible wave. You could even categorize them as a special casting medium, a kind of alternative scepter.

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