Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 415: Chapter-415

The Marquis scrambled onto his knees, spitting blood onto the pristine floor. "Father, please! They are her grooms! They are meant to marry her to secure the family’s future!"

"Secure the family’s future?!" the Old Marquis laughed, a dark, terrifying sound. "By beating the actual heir to the ground? By letting your wife scream at her? You call yourself a Marquis? You are a pathetic, weak-minded fool!"

The Grandfather turned his furious glare back to the four grooms.

"And you," he spat, his voice dripping with pure disgust. "If any of you were actual men, you would have thrown yourselves in front of my granddaughter the moment this coward raised his hand! But instead, you sat there like a bunch of frightened concubines!"

Kavien, the Second Groom, Orion, and the Fourth Groom all flinched, their faces burning with absolute shame. They had just been completely, publicly emasculated by the highest authority in the empire.

"Guards!" the Old Marquis roared.

A dozen heavily armored soldiers—the Grandfather’s elite personal guard—flooded into the dining hall, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

"Drag this useless son of mine and his loudmouth wife to the ancestral hall!" the Old Marquis commanded ruthlessly. "They will kneel before the tablets of our ancestors for three days and three nights without food or water! Let them reflect on what it actually means to be a parent!"

"Father, no! Please!" the Marquis begged as the elite guards grabbed his arms and forcefully dragged him to his feet. The Marchioness was sobbing hysterically as she was hauled up right beside him.

But the Old Marquis had already turned his back on them. He gently placed a hand on Heena’s shoulder, his expression softening instantly.

"Come, my dear," he said softly, leading her away from the chaos. "Let’s get some boiled egg for that cheek. Your grandmother is waiting for us."

As she turned to leave, perfectly playing the part of the deeply traumatized victim leaning on her grandfather for support, Heena allowed her eyes to flick open just a fraction.

She looked past her grandfather’s arm, making direct eye contact with the four frozen, terrified grooms left sitting at the table.

Through her fake tears, Heena flashed them a single, wickedly triumphant smile.

Heena crossed the threshold of the main hall, leaving the wreckage of her parents’ authority behind. As she walked down the quieter corridor, the lion-shaped System floated invisibly beside her, its glowing blue brow furrowed in deep perplexity.

’’"Host, I still don’t understand this,"’’ the System admitted, its mechanical voice sounding entirely confused. ’’"Why the sudden shift? Why play the helpless victim right at the end after being so fiercely dominant?"’’

Heena let out a long, silent sigh. ’I really should not have chosen such an inexperienced, green System,’ she thought to herself. It was cute, sure, and it tried its best, but it lacked the raw tactical wisdom of an older unit. Looking back, she could count the number of world-level conflicts she had fought alongside this little lion on a single hand.

’It’s fine,’ Heena commanded telepathically, keeping her external expression smooth and unbothered. ’Just follow my lead.’

The System flickered slightly, giving a resigned huff. ’’"Fine, Host. But please make sure you don’t act recklessly. You know exactly how dangerous these high-level environments can be."’’

Heena knew, of course. But what the System completely failed to grasp was a fundamental truth she had uncovered after meticulously studying every single one of Seera’s lingering memories. Heena had finally mapped out the original girl’s life, and the reality of it made her blood run cold with pure, venomous spite.

The original Seera had been the absolute ideal. She was the exact child every single parent in the empire desperately wished they could have. She was breathtakingly beautiful, gentle, profoundly studious, and a natural genius. What more could a noble house possibly ask for?

When the Marchioness wept, Seera was always there to offer a comforting shoulder—even though her mother routinely struck her from time to time in fits of misplaced rage. Seera just stayed, enduring it silently. When her cold, distant father returned from months of military campaigns, Seera would stand outside in the courtyard, waiting for him for hours just to catch a glimpse of his face. Every winter, she meticulously organized and sent heavy provisions to her father, her grandfather, and her grandmother at the borders, personally ensuring the entire family was taken care of. She even treated those four useless grooms with absolute kindness, sending them thoughtful gifts and ensuring they felt happy and fulfilled, despite her own discomfort.

Seera had given them her entire heart, her absolute loyalty, and her youth. And in return, they had starved her, isolated her, and left her to die the moment she was no longer convenient.

Heena was a deeply spiteful person. She could tolerate a lot of things, but she absolutely could not tolerate ungrateful, parasitic cruelty. If those wretched parents and grooms were going to despise her anyway—no matter how perfect or how broken she acted—then she was going to give them a spectacular, world-shattering reason to hate her.

But there was another, far more urgent reason driving her ruthlessness.

Suddenly, Heena stopped dead in her tracks.

A sharp, violent wave of dizziness crashed over her brain. Her vision blurred instantly, turning the grand hallway into a smeared, chaotic mess of colors. Her balance gave out entirely.

’Ah... it’s happening again,’ she thought, her breath hitching as she instinctively reached up to grab her throbbing head.

In a split second, Samuel’s massive, protective arms clamped around her waist, effortlessly catching her weight before her knees could hit the stone floor. His heart hammered violently against his chest, his dark eyes wide with sheer panic beneath his wooden mask.

The Grandfather, who had been walking proudly beside her, instantly stopped. His fierce, battle-hardened face crumbled into an expression of intense, overriding worry.

"Seera!" the Old Marquis breathed, his rough hand hovering near her shoulder, terrified to touch her as if she might break. "Are you okay? Talk to me, child."

Heena forced her eyes shut, taking a slow, agonizing breath to calm the swirling chaos in her mind. Slowly, the darkness receded, and her vision blinked back into focus. She forced a reassuring, gentle nod and looked up at her grandfather.

"I am fine, Grandfather," she whispered sweetly, leaning slightly into Samuel’s solid support. "Just a momentary exhaustion from the excitement."

But internally, Heena’s mind was dead calm. From the vast wealth of her past life experiences across multiple worlds, she knew exactly what this sensation meant. This wasn’t simple low blood pressure. It wasn’t malnutrition.

The original Seera’s physical vessel was slowly, systematically shutting down from the inside out. The core of this body was already fractured beyond repair before she had even transmigrated into it. It was a ticking clock, and it wasn’t something she could simply fix with medicine or rest.

Heena looked back down the corridor toward the main hall where her broken family resided. A dark, terrifyingly absolute decision solidified in her chest.

If her time in this world was cut short, she wasn’t going to spend it hiding behind her grandmother’s skirts. She was going to use every single second left to completely burn their fragile world to ashes.