The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

Chapter 216:

[You have met the requirements to become a Sword Master.]

(A suitable opportunity for a breakthrough is required.)

*

Above Olaf’s head, a black sun, dark as night and brimming with ominous flames, began to eclipse the light.

“…”

I stared blankly at the sun hanging in the dawn sky. It wasn’t hot. Even though it was blazing fiercely, and even though it was so close, it didn’t feel hot at all.

It was just… warm.

The sun burned as if swallowing the morning sun whole, casting both light and warmth. But for one person…

“What… what sorcery is this?”

That warmth didn’t seem to extend to Olaf. He wasn’t granted that comfort. Instead, ‘Fwoosh,’ black flames started to burn him.

From his arms to his torso.

No matter how much he struggled to extinguish them, the black flames relentlessly clung, not going out.

Black smoke began to rise.

Despite Olaf’s body regenerating over and over again, the smell of burning flesh filled the air, and his agonized screams echoed.

“Kraaaaah!!!”

Olaf raised his axe and lunged angrily toward her.

Entering the second phase of the fight, Olaf had overcome both the frailty and the aging of his body. His now youthful and powerful figure was far stronger than before, yet she barely paid him any attention.

Despite his undeniable power as an Apostle, and the full strength that now coursed through him, she was only concerned with checking on my condition, brushing aside Olaf’s presence like it was nothing.

From her wheelchair, she reached out and gently caressed my cheek where Olaf’s axe had grazed me. Looking at me with a sad expression, her voice was soft as she asked:

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“No, more than that, what in the world is…”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“My Lady?”

My Lady looked at me with sorrow-filled eyes, completely ignoring my confusion. She acted as though it was my disobedience to her previous warnings that bothered her most.

“I told you not to get hurt.”

“I asked you not to be in pain anymore.”

“Why don’t you ever listen?”

She muttered softly, her voice trembling as she began to spread her magic.

-Kugugugu…

The black sun moved.

Once enormous and static, now it began to rotate like a spinning orb. Olaf, still roaring in anger, advanced toward us, but she effortlessly suppressed him. ?

Using the medium of black flames, she set his legs ablaze.

“Die.”

-Thud!

Even when he regenerated, she rekindled the flames.

“I’ll sever your limbs and…”

-Kwaak…!

Over and over, she knocked him down, her black flames igniting him repeatedly. But then, before we noticed, Olaf had drawn near, his piercing gaze fixed on us as he hefted his axe high in preparation to strike.

With his upper body bare and blackened from the flames, Olaf swung his axe with all his might, the muscle in his arms rippling. His momentum aimed to decapitate her in one swift blow.

Fortunately, his clothes had somehow escaped burning—it was almost laughable.

I began to rise, trying to find steady footing, with the intent to intervene.

[You have reached the Stage of Sword Master. ?(Make your breakthrough by delivering a decisive strike.)]

Now, I was no longer the same.

I thought I could face Olaf head-on with my newfound power on the horizon.

But.

-Kugugugu…

My Lady didn’t allow it.

Still touching my cheek, she held me back, as if telling me not to move.

And then, eyes opened.

From within the rotating black sun, eyes began to open. A thin slit formed at the center of the enormous orb and, slowly, ever so slowly, it blinked open.

-Tok…

A massive pupil was revealed, sluggishly blinking like a tired being finally waking up. It was so enormous that it seemed almost alive, only half-open as though still sleepy but nevertheless exuding a strange vitality.

-Tok…

The eye moved.

It looked down at me in my awe-struck state, then shifted to quietly examine My Lady, who was staring at Olaf. Finally, it blinked at Olaf’s burning form before locking open completely.

-Screeeech…!

The moment that massive pupil fully opened, I finally realized what that orb was.

‘…Dark magic.’

My Lady’s long-forgotten weapon had made its return.

I recognized it.

Those words spoken by the author still echoed in my mind.

[HaremLover]: Author-nim, is the strongest person in the story someone like Michail, who awakened as a hero?

[Author]: No. At this point, Michail is indeed the strongest. But if the story had progressed without any interference, the ultimate strongest would undoubtedly be….

-Olivia.

The monster acknowledged by the author.

I had briefly forgotten that Olivia was someone with overwhelming talent in the field of magic. Honestly, I had never expected her to possess a talent for dark magic.

Because she had lost her mana, I mistakenly thought she could no longer use such magic. How wrong I was.

She shattered those misconceptions. My Lady crushed my naive assumptions, radiating overwhelming dark magic and crushing the battlefield beneath its weight.

-Blink.

Olaf raised his head, locking eyes with the colossal sun above. The sheer terror of meeting such vast power caused his body to freeze up, and the axe in his hands fell to the ground.

“This… This doesn’t make any sense.”

He was paralyzed.

The mighty body of an Apostle, a stronghold of power, was now overwhelmed, unable to move under the crushing weight of such absolute might. Olaf’s body, much like my own, was being pressed by invincible force, leaving us both unable to do anything but stare up at the sky.

The only one still moving on this battlefield was My Lady.

She, the master of this boundless black magic, gazed coldly at Olaf without a shred of emotion in her eyes.

“Ricardo asked me not to do this, but…”

With a faint shimmer, her body began to lift from her wheelchair, floating as though to prove she could ignore the physical limitations that bound her. She hovered slowly toward the immobilized Olaf.

“You’re making me break my promise.”

With a bored expression, she placed her hand on Olaf’s heart.

Though Olaf possessed a powerful, muscular body, her hand seemed incomparably tiny and delicate by contrast. Yet, to Olaf, it felt oppressive, more powerful than any other hand he had ever experienced.

There was only one other moment in his life when Olaf had felt this way.

He had felt it once before, this feeling of being utterly dominated, of having his heart seized as if in the iron grip of a god.

It was a feeling that had washed over him when the Pope had placed a hand on his shoulder and ordained him as an Apostle.

With trembling eyes, Olaf stared at Olivia’s hand.

“My God…”

Olivia raised her head and told him coldly,

“I hate you.”

“…”

“I hate you so much, right now, that I want to crush you under my own hands.”

“…”

“So.”

In a voice colder than anything I had ever heard her use, Olivia spoke as her hand pressed against Olaf’s heart.

“Die.”

And in that moment.

-Cough.

Blood began to spill from My Lady’s lips.

*

The price of using such overwhelming power was catching up to her.

“Guh… Cough, cough.”

She had immense dark magic, and she had vast talent too, but this was her first time using such power. Olivia’s body couldn’t withstand it.

Veins began to bulge on her hand.

The taste of iron filled her mouth.

A dizziness, so intense it made her feel like she might faint.

All Olivia could do now was bear the price of using such an unprepared strength. That’s the unchangeable rule when wielding power beyond one’s preparedness.

‘The one who hurt Ricardo should be punished by death.’ Olivia clenched her fists, trying to suppress the burning rage.

But.

“It… it hurts…”

Her body wasn’t obeying her.

Sensing an opening, Olaf began to swing his axe. Determined to finish her off in a single blow, he shook off his rigid body and moved with terrifying speed, his sharp eyes focused on her.

“Oh, God. Grant me the chance to vanquish this evil.”

I grabbed My Lady’s staggering body, lifting my sword just in time.

I barely managed to dodge Olaf’s attack as I held her tightly in my arms.

With heavy breaths, My Lady bit her lip and glared at Olaf with an expression filled with wrath and sorrow.

“Ricardo, stay still.”

“My Lady.”

“I’m going to… kill him.”

I lightly flicked her forehead, extinguishing the burning bloodlust in her eyes, a small mischievous smile forming on my lips.

“Ouch!”

As she pouted and wore a sulky expression, I whispered softly.

“When we return home, you’ll have some explaining to do.”

“…”

“Since when… have you been hiding this?”

-Clang!

“You’ll definitely have to explain.”

With a steady breath, I gently placed her down so she could lean against the ground.

Breathing hard, struggling to maintain control, she continued to shift the massive black sun with trembling shoulders. It seemed this was the extent to which she could help in the battle.

I had many questions, but it wasn’t the right time yet. No, my priority was ending this fight first, so I raised my sword once more and turned to Olaf.

As he brushed off the dwindling black flames, Olaf let out a hollow laugh.

“If I wasn’t so exhausted, I could’ve killed that girl easily.”

I responded to his grumbling.

“That’s probably true.”

After all, Olaf wasn’t entirely wrong. If he had fought My Lady from the beginning instead of me, it’s likely he could have won without much trouble. I could concede that.

But what difference did that make now?

In the end, Olaf was still losing.

I stretched, loosening my muscles, and replied to him.

“If I weren’t so soft-hearted, I would’ve killed you a long time ago.”

“You’re just all talk…”

I raised my sword and glanced over at the monster writhing in the black flames as I spoke.

“That creature—didn’t you resurrect it yourself?”

“…”

“The daughter you lost in the past, brought back from death as a monster through dark magic.”

“Do you want to die?”

“No. I’m just letting you know that I could’ve easily handled that problem much earlier.”

A vein started to bulge on Olaf’s forehead. He grabbed his axe and began walking toward me, his face twisted with anger at my petty provocation.

I didn’t stop.

“Can’t you hear her voice? Even I can hear it.”

“Shut up.”

“She’s crying in pain.”

I looked at the flame-engulfed creature and spoke.

-Screeeech!… It hurts…

“Is any of this really right?”

“…”

“Your daughter is screaming out in pain, and yet you’ve never once answered her, have you?”

This wasn’t some emotional ploy.

Yuria had spoken these very words when she had confronted Olaf at the end in the novel. I was merely repeating her lines verbatim.

-Listen to your daughter’s sorrowful voice.

“Listen to your daughter’s sorrowful voice.”

-Is this the life your daughter truly wanted?

“Is this really the life your daughter wanted?”

-Your innocent daughter cherishes you and still calls you ‘father,’ despite being used as a tool… Why?

“Your daughter, despite suffering endlessly, still loves and respects you. So why did you decide her suffering would never end? Why judge her as a failure and force her into endless pain?”

With a tranquil resolve, I lifted my sword, filled with the finality of watching Olaf’s memories as the audience of this scene, knowing this was the final act.

“Your daughter, who never even harmed a butterfly. Is she not crying for you?”

-Daddy… Daddy…

“Repent.”

“Not to the God you prayed to, but to your daughter.”

My blade, infused with crimson aura, gleamed brilliantly.

In that fateful instant, when the radiance of my sword filled the entire battlefield with a blinding light, the blade finally reached Olaf’s neck.

-You have achieved the rank of Sword Master.

End of Chapter.