The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

TLed by NolepGuy

Chapter 16

“Villain? I am an artist.”

With a creepy grin, the Adventurer Hunter drew the dagger strapped to his waist. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed the blade, sharpened to a blue gleam, at Hanna and me, resembling some kind of insect.

“This is my first time fighting an insect.”

“I am not an Insect Magic Practitioner. I am an artist who sculpts people with the beautiful magic created by God.”

“No matter how I look at it, it seems to fit… Head, thorax, abdomen. Ah… Maybe it’s because you don’t have six arms.”

Noticing the insult directed at him, the Adventurer Hunter squinted and asked me.

“Which part makes you think so?”

The man stared at me with narrowed eyes. His killing intent radiated as if he would stab me the moment I said something offensive.

I shrugged my shoulders.

From the way he crouched and crept forward to the reverse grip he held on two daggers, he was the very image of a mantis.

I had resolved not to judge people by their appearances, but the man before me resembled an insect far too much. Calling him human felt like an insult to humanity itself.

To preserve the dignity of humankind, I decided to share an uncomfortable truth with him.

“You look like a mantis, so I mistook you for an insect.”

“What?”

“You look so frail that a single flick might kill you, but oddly enough, your temper is as filthy as an insect’s.”

Yes, you.

You’re really ugly.

“You resemble a mantis.”

Cracks slowly appeared on the man’s face. Perhaps it was due to confronting an uncomfortable truth. His mother must have gaslighted him into thinking he was handsome. I worried that revealing the truth might make me an unfilial child.

But what could I do?

He truly resembled a mantis.

The man gave a fishy smile. Perhaps not wanting to appear petty, he forced an awkward grin and let out an “Ahaha,” which was oddly satisfying.

“You’re saying I look like a mantis?”

“Yes.”

“Haha… This is driving me crazy. No one has ever spoken to me like this before.”

“You must have really good friends.”

“…Do you want to die?”

My sincerity didn’t reach the mantis, who had just realized his mother’s lies.

I knew from the novel that Mikhail was trampled by this guy.

-Archbishop of Madness…! Do you know how many innocent people have died at your hands?

-Kishishit… I merely created art pieces. I simply purified the filth destroying the world with the art of death.

-I’ll kill you….

-You said that last time too, but you couldn’t kill me. What a pity. Mr. Mikhail… I’d really like to turn you into one of my art pieces someday.

He had overwhelmed Mikhail and shown true madness, dominating the heroine’s party.

But that wasn’t the case now.

Right now, he was just a performance artist resembling an insect.

I spoke to him earnestly.

“This is a first for me too.”

“…”

“Meeting someone who looks like a mantis, I mean. If I were still an elementary school student, I might have tried to catch you and keep you in a collection jar.”

The Adventurer Hunter’s smile gradually dried up. Perhaps it was because he had just realized a truth he had been unaware of for decades. If he had a mirror at home, he wouldn’t have missed it.

Could it be that he genuinely didn’t know he resembled an insect? Maybe he had deluded himself into thinking he was handsome. The novel didn’t mention such a backstory, so I felt quite sorry for unintentionally attacking him personally.

“I apologize. I overstepped because you truly resemble one.”

“I…”

The Adventurer Hunter’s voice quivered with resentment.

His trembling voice suggested he was questioning the secret of his birth.

To feel pity for a villain.

It hurt my heart.

If this were modern times, he could have sought help through medicine. He was simply born in the wrong era. Poor mantis.

“I…”

Black energy began to gather around the mantis’s dagger.

A sinister and chilling energy.

It was Dark Magic.

With a flash, the mantis opened his eyes and spoke.

“Are you saying I resemble such an ungraceful creature?”

I drew the sword at my waist and replied.

“Yes.”

In an instant, the mantis’s body flew toward me. The haze-like black aura obscured my vision, trying to strangle me.

With a pop, it disappeared, leaving only a feeble afterimage.

[Dark Magic Resistance neutralizes Pascal’s magic.]

I gave a villain-like smile.

A cruel yet pure smile that overwhelmed the opponent.

“What is this? Did you just shoot a stinger at me?”

This provocation, stronger than any Mental Magic, struck Pascal.

“I thought you were a mantis, but it turns out you’re a different insect. My apologies for the misunderstanding.”

Pascal’s reason flew away after that.

***

“Huff… Huff…”

Rowen ran quickly.

His destination was the source of the loud noise coming from the mountain summit. The ominous energy and the thick scent of blood carried by the wind rushed toward him.

For some reason, his heart grew anxious.

He thought it shouldn’t happen, but the ominous thoughts refused to fade.

He kept imagining his youngest daughter dying. The image of her desperately calling for him appeared, followed by the sight of himself holding her cold, stiff corpse.

‘Damn it…’

On his way here, he had thought of many things.

‘Is this my fault?’

‘If my youngest dies, can I bear it?’

‘Can I promise not to regret it?’

What was certain was.

If his daughter were to be found as a cold corpse, Rowen wouldn’t be able to think rationally as he was now.

If even one of the countless worries in his mind came true.

If such a scene unfolded before his eyes, Rowen knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain his reason.

He might wipe out all the Orc Encampments in the Hamel Mountain Range. Or perhaps he would drive the Orc species to extinction in the Empire.

He would find any excuse.

Because if Orcs didn’t exist, his daughter wouldn’t have died. He was sure he wouldn’t look back at himself as the cause.

Rowen. He knew himself best—that he was stubborn, inflexible, and a perfectionist who couldn’t easily admit fault.

‘Foolish man.’

The source of the noise gradually came into view.

Between the trees, he saw human corpses. Some were clearly the work of Orcs, while others bore traces of being burned.

Rowen gripped his sword tightly.

He was impatient.

The fallen bodies overlapped with the image of his daughter, shaking his resolve like a reed.

He thought he was indifferent to death. He thought he had created and witnessed enough death on countless battlefields.

But now, he was more afraid than in any war.

A familiar sight entered his view.

-Father….

In his hallucination, he saw his dying daughter at the Orc’s Habitat.

Rowen kicked off the ground. He was certain his daughter would be there, so he rushed to confirm. But contrary to Rowen’s hopes, a dense dust cloud blanketed the area.

He couldn’t see ahead.

‘Damn it.’

I had a hunch.

I was already too late.

In the hallucination, my daughter’s last appearance was nothing but a dense dust cloud. Her breathing ended within that impenetrable cloud of dust.

While losing my reason and wandering aimlessly into the dust cloud.

Clang.

A familiar sword struck my foot.

A splendid golden handle, a golden ruby embedded in the center, and the family insignia engraved on the blade.

It was an old memory, a gift I had given her when Hanna first came into the world, telling her to one day carry the name of Histania with this sword.

To think she still had this sword.

The blade had dulled completely.

A sword worn down from long use, to the point where handprints were left on the handle.

Though I had bought countless swords for my other children, the one sword I had given to Hanna only once pierced me like a nail to the chest.

It was sharper than anything. It stabbed deeper into my heart than any other sword, leaving wounds worse than any swordsmanship.

The sword I had given her was coldly lying on the ground.

“…”

The ground was soaked with blood.

Though most of it was the green blood of Orcs, there was no small amount of human red blood mixed in, forming a murky color.

Rowen muttered as if in a trance.

“…No.”

A denial escaped his lips aloud.

That he couldn’t believe it.

That he must not believe it.

His father was a Sword Master.

He himself was the Sword of the Empire.

To die so futilely was something he couldn’t bear to see as a father.

What had he wielded his sword for?

Why had he been so harsh to the daughter who so desperately sought his recognition?

Rowen’s mind could not find the answers.

Only now did Rowen recall the single phrase inscribed on the blue window.

[Sinner.]

So that’s it.

He was a sinner.

Rowen awkwardly called out a long-forgotten name.

“Hanna. Where are you?”

Toward the billowing clouds. With a voice that was burning away, he spoke.

“You have to duel with me. You promised….”

Though there was no reply.

He deeply resented himself for coldly ignoring her on her birthday that day.

What tragedy would greet him once this smoke settled?

Would the nightmare he saw in his hallucination be reenacted?

Rowen was afraid.

“Dad…”

Only now could he admit it.

“Dad is sorry…”

It was then.

Thud…!

“Miss Hanna, that’s not the spot to hit. You have to aim for the armored part so it won’t leave a mark.”

“Ah…! Is this a perfect crime?”

“Exactly.”

Through the dissipating dust cloud, he could see his daughter, alongside a man, beating someone up.

“Hehe…”

Hanna’s expression, as she struck someone with the sword sheath, looked happier than he had ever seen before.