NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Dangerous Matriarch

“Then… huh… I’m sorry, Matriarch, but I can’t say such vulgar words.”

Artis shook his head, trying to look as pure as a monk on his first day of vows, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

“Fu~ fu~ vulgar words?”

The Matriarch’s teasing voice coiled around him like silk.

“So you are thinking something vulgar, huh?”

He glanced up, only to catch her milky, delicate hand sliding over her shoulder as she cracked her neck, her crimson robe slipping ever so slightly to reveal a sinful curve of skin.

She looked like she’d walked straight out of a forbidden fantasy, and his brain short-circuited for a solid two seconds.

“Well… maybe a little,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “but not like that! It’s just that, uh, my thoughts ran wild for a second. Nothing serious, Matriarch!”

“Hooo… so your thoughts are wild, are they?”

Her lips curled into a smirk that could launch a thousand nosebleeds. She leaned in just enough for her ample cleavage to threaten mutiny against her robe.

“Tell me, Junior apprentice, is this what a junior apprentice does when he’s alone with a mature woman? Are you fantasizing about doing something… wild with her?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and he swore the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

Artis blinked. His mind went haywire, like a drunk bard trying to play a harp with a chicken. His thoughts were a chaotic tangle of ‘Oh fuck, she’s teasing me!’, ‘Wait, is she serious?!’, and ‘Her boobs are RIGHT THERE.’

His heart pounded so loud it was practically hosting a drum solo in his chest.

He was certain the Matriarch could hear it too, but instead of chastising him, she just smiled wider, as though she was enjoying every second of his meltdown.

‘What the fuck do I do? If I play along and say yes, will she lose her shit, or will she… I don’t know… reward me?’

‘Damn it, why does she look like she’s having the time of her life teasing me like this? Should I push back a little and flirt, or just shut the hell up? Fuck, this is driving me insane!’

Artis’s internal monologue was a dumpster fire of panic and wild ideas, and he didn’t notice that his body was reacting—very noticeably—to the Matriarch’s overwhelming presence.

Between the heat she radiated and the sheer milf energy oozing out of her every move, his mind was turning into a foggy mess.

“Fu fu~ don’t sweat it, Junior apprentice… I was just teasing you. No need to worry about offending me. By the way, how’s your preparation coming along? You’re ready for this mission, right?”

Artis practically deflated with relief as the subject finally shifted. His face was still burning hotter than a furnace, but at least he wasn’t being teased to death anymore.

“Y-yes, Matriarch. My preparations are going well,” he stammered, forcing himself to focus.

Internally, though, he was still losing his shit.

‘Thank fuck she was just playing around. If she wasn’t, I’d probably already be six feet under…’

What made it worse was the knowledge that the Matriarch was stupidly strong. Like, laugh-in-the-face-of-death strong. Stronger than the Patriarch himself.

Hell, she could probably flick him across the room with a pinky if she wanted to.

The fact that she was hiding her real strength from almost everyone, except the Patriarch and a select few, only made her more terrifying.

And yet… there was something in the way she teased him, the way her lips curled into that wicked little smirk, that made him almost wish she wasn’t holding back. Just a little.

‘Thank the heavens she doesn’t take this shit too seriously, because I’m about one more “fu fu~” away from losing my goddamn mind.’

“Yes, Matriarch, I’m ready. The preparations are coming along well.”

Artis said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I just need to learn a bit more about this ginseng. Even though I already know some, having more details can’t hurt, right? Don’t you think so, Matriarch?”

The Matriarch tilted her head slightly, her lips quirking into that maddening, teasing smile of hers.

“Indeed, that’s true. Knowledge is power, after all. How about this? I’ll grant you access to the library. Centuries of history, secrets, and techniques all in one place. I’m sure you’ll find something useful.”

“Really? Matriarch, is it okay? Thank you!”

Artis couldn’t hide the genuine excitement in his voice.

“Sure,” she said breezily, waving a hand like she was tossing away a spare pebble. “It’s nothing.”

But then, almost unconsciously, her other hand moved to her shoulder, pressing into it like she was working out a knot.

Artis’s eyes flicked to the motion before he could stop himself, and the way her fingers traced the curve of her collarbone didn’t exactly help his overactive imagination.

“I can’t help but ask, Matriarch… Is something wrong with your shoulders?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

The Matriarch froze mid-motion, her hand still on her shoulder, and then she slowly turned her gaze back to him. Her lips curved into a smirk so devilish it could’ve melted steel.

“Why, Junior apprentice…” she began, her voice dripping with faux innocence, “…were you watching me just now?”

Artis’s soul nearly left his body.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! This woman is going to end me.’

Artis thought, sweat pooling on his back as he desperately tried to keep his composure.

“Uh, no, no! Of course not! I mean, not like that! I wasn’t—uh, you just seemed… tense? And I was being observant! You know, like a responsible apprentice?!”

He babbled, words tumbling out in a panicked rush as he immediately bowed so low his nose almost grazed the floor.

The Matriarch, of course, wasn’t about to let him off easy. She tilted her head, a devilish smile tugging at her lips that sent chills down his spine.

“Oh~ Observant, are we? Is that what you little boys are calling it these days? Hmmm… should I let my husband know about your… observations?”

Artis froze mid-bow, his heart doing a backflip and landing straight into his stomach. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He was screwed—royally screwed.

“Please forgive me, Matriarch! I can’t control the dumb shit I say sometimes!”

He blurted, bowing even lower, practically groveling now.

“I promise it won’t happen again!” His voice cracked like a teenager trying to lie to his parents.

The Matriarch burst out laughing, her melodic fu fu fu~ echoing through the room like the sound of his dignity being shredded into confetti.

“Oh, relax, junior apprentice.”

She teased, waving him off with a flick of her perfectly manicured hand.

“I’m just fucking with you. You must think this poor, old woman’s humor is so outdated for you youngsters. Ah, truly, I’m just so ancient!”

She placed a dramatic hand on her forehead, letting out an exaggerated sigh, the kind you’d see in bad plays. Artis blinked, his confusion mingling with a rising urge to laugh—or cry.

Her performance was so over the top, so absurd, that for a moment, he genuinely started to believe she was overwhelmed by her supposed “age.”

Artis blinked, his brain doing mental gymnastics to keep up.

‘What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with her today?’

This wasn’t the calm, collected matriarch from the novel. No, this woman was teasing him, toying with him like a cat batting around a clueless mouse.

Where was the stern authority? The untouchable grace? Instead, here she was, practically giggling like a tipsy schoolgirl, and it was messing with his entire existence.

She was terrifying.

With Nadia and Juliana, it was easy—he knew the playbook like the back of his hand: say some filthy shit, grab some boobs, and watch them melt into a puddle of horny desperation.

But this woman? She radiated a level of authority that made his cock feel like it might retract if he said the wrong thing.

She wasn’t just out of his league; she was in a completely different fucking sport. It felt like one wrong word, one ill-timed joke, and she’d turn his skull into a decorative paperweight.

He gulped, trying to keep his cool, but internally he was screaming, Why the fuck is she like this?!

“Y-you’re not old at all, Matriarch. You’re like… uh… like a fine wine, aging beautifully in the bottle, just waiting for someone to… to taste you.”

The words hung in the air like an awkward fart in church, and Artis instantly regretted every life decision that had led him to this moment.

‘Oh, fuck me sideways with a rusty spoon. Did I just say that? Out loud? To her? Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so dead!’

The Matriarch’s eyes narrowed, her piercing gaze freezing him in place like a horny deer caught in headlights.

For a second, he swore he saw the corners of her lips twitch, but she didn’t laugh. No, that would’ve been too merciful.

Instead, she tilted her head, her expression unreadable—somewhere between amused and I’m about to ruin your entire fucking life.

Artis’s mind raced.

‘Should I apologize? Bow? Fake a heart attack? Jump out the goddamn window?’

Then, to his utter disbelief, she burst into a melodic laugh that had absolutely no fucking business being this cute.

“Hahaha… fu fu fu… a fine wine, am I?”

She teased, her voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. She leaned in closer, her lips curling into a wicked, mischievous smile that screamed, You’re fucked.

“Husband! Husband! Where are you?”

She called out dramatically, one hand on her chest like a swooning actress in some over-the-top play.

“This junior apprentice says he wants to steal me away!”