Taming The Villainesses-Chapter 362: Main Character (7)

Screams began to rise from all directions.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

Elga von Leones, waiting in the VIP section for the next match, couldn’t hide her confusion.

The massive crowd in the coliseum had begun to flee, shrieking like refugees from a battlefield.

BOOOOM—!

Then came a thunderous explosion and tremor from beneath the arena. She couldn’t be sure what had happened, but Elga had a good sense for these things.

“So it’s finally blown up.”

She had been starting to wonder why things were going so smoothly.

In fact, it had all been too smooth until now—so she had been on edge. Now that everything was blowing up, a strange sense of relief washed over her.

Of course. That’s more like it.

“Elga, we should probably get out of here too.”

Professor Stella, seated beside her, lightly grabbed Elga’s arm. She was right. They should leave. Elga had no desire to get hurt getting caught up in some disaster.

She was just about to stand when—

BOOOOOOM—!

Another massive explosion ripped open the floor of the arena like a volcano erupting.

From the smoke, a man in a black robe emerged, holding a young woman with blue eyes in his grasp.

‘That’s Aslan.’

A distant relative—Aslan of Orléans. Elga knew her well: one of the cadet branches with a hostile attitude toward the Leones main house, particularly bitter over inheritance disputes. Always noisy at family gatherings.

To see someone like that held hostage...

As annoying as her self-righteousness was, Aslan was strong—strong enough to have served on the western front.

If someone had taken her hostage...

Elga narrowed her eyes.

The one holding her was someone... familiar.

His face was hidden behind a robe and mask, but Elga wasn’t so naïve that she couldn’t recognize her own life partner.

‘...That bastard. What the hell is he doing?’

As she puzzled over this, the man spoke.

“I am the Mage King, Angmar. I’ve planted mana-triggered bombs throughout the coliseum. I can detonate them with a mere wave of my hand.”

Swish.

BOOOOOM—!

As he extended his hand, a massive explosion went off in the empty stadium. The crowd screamed louder, covering their ears as they fled in panic.

A tournament that had taken nearly three months to prepare had turned to hell in less than three minutes.

And he was the one stirring mud into his own soup. Elga couldn’t begin to fathom what this half-fairy was thinking.

‘Why smear the name of Angmar like this? If this is how he reclaims the throne, he’ll never earn the people's support.’

She couldn’t understand it—but surely, there was some reason.

‘There’s no way he actually planted bombs.’

So why say that? Elga had begun to suspect, as others might, that he was acting. But the real question was—why?

Then, watching the fleeing people, it hit her.

Was he trying to halt the tournament and evacuate the audience?

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‘I'm not sure... but—’

Click.

Elga clicked her tongue and stood up.

“Professor Stella, we should help people evacuate. There’s no time to sit around. We have to restore order somehow.”

“Y-yeah, you’re right.”

Rustle.

As she stood and began helping the crowd, Elga looked down at the arena.

What the hell was that guy thinking? Maybe it was just the distance, or the mask, but he felt so far away.

People were fleeing in chaos.

With everyone rushing toward the exits at once, things were messy—but soldiers who finally understood the situation were managing to restore order and usher people out.

Looks like the evacuation’s going okay.

Now the problem is that side.

Lift.

I raised my head and looked toward the Queen’s throne, high above.

Ayra sat with her legs crossed, perfectly composed. Her expression—pure arrogance. She didn’t seem surprised at all. It was like she knew this was going to happen.

I’d come a long way.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’d already done things I could never undo. All I could do now was press the gas pedal.

“Ayra von Tarantella.”

I spoke toward her.

“I defeated all the other finalists. I brought down Aslan of Orléans with ease. I’m the rightful winner of this tournament. And so, I invoke my right to challenge you.”

Half a lie, but half-truth.

Of all the finalists, only Aslan and I remained. And I had subdued her easily. You could say I was the true winner.

Someone might scoff and say that hardly mattered now—but Ayra was the type to take these things [N O V E L I G H T] seriously.

Maybe that’s why—

Ayra slowly opened her mouth and—

━━━──.

She burst into laughter.

As her voice echoed through the heads of the panicked crowd, everyone stopped in their tracks and turned toward their queen.

But Ayra didn’t care.

She laughed like she’d just heard the funniest story in the world. A tear even fell from one of her eyes.

I was a little stunned. I’d never seen her laugh like that before.

She could laugh... like this?

And to think I only discovered it now, of all times.

After laughing for a long while, Ayra finally wiped her eye and asked:

“You call yourself the Mage King Angmar? You seem clever enough to know what it means to speak that name before me.”

“Yeah. I can’t go back now.”

At my reply, I caught a fleeting, complex expression flicker across Ayra’s distant face. Then she gently closed her eyes and said,

“Even if you are a heinous criminal, as queen, I must honor the challenge. Very well, Mage King Angmar. I accept. Defeat me and claim your prize.”

Step.

Ayra rose from the throne.

As she began walking through the air toward the stage, the shattered fragments of the coliseum floated up and formed a stairway beneath her feet.

A royal path.

The elegant and mystical sight made the fleeing spectators freeze. All of them held their breath, fixated on the queen’s every step.

The way she seized their attention—it was like magic itself.

Ayra had grown into a true queen.

I was proud.

But also nervous—because it meant the people had stopped running.

Yet Ayra remained poised.

“My subjects, fear not. There has merely been a touch of impurity in this sacred Queen’s Tournament. I was aware of it even before the games began.”

Snap.

With a flick of her fingers, several people floated into the air.

“The secret society Yggdrasil.”

Snap.

More people rose.

“The Black-Robed Revolutionaries. The Moonlight Cult. The Anarchists.”

One after another, she named them. All factions that had tried to exploit the tournament.

Apparently, she’d known all along.

Ayra’s eyes saw through truth and lies.

They couldn’t escape her gaze.

“And lastly.”

At last, Ayra’s finger pointed at me.

“The ancient wraith.”

Swiiish.

She drew a line through the air.

Fragments of the shattered arena floor began flying toward me. Their size and speed rivaled cannon shells.

—Mana Shield.

But I’d expected the attack. Blocking it wasn’t difficult at my current level.

As I held my ground behind the dust and debris, I lifted my head.

Ayra now stood gracefully on the stage, her hair rising like spider legs.

It meant she was going all out.

“Children of David, bear witness. Behold your queen—Ayra von Tarantella. Your true sovereign, revealed before your eyes.”

I released Aslan from my grasp.

“Run. Get as far from this arena as you can. Protect the people.”

The knight, dazed just moments ago, took off running like she’d been waiting for this moment. Maybe she instinctively knew she couldn’t get involved in this fight.

Smart girl.

━Hiooong...!

I know—I have to give it my all too.

No matter what led us here—

In the end, Ayra and I would face each other on this grand stage.

I’d imagined something more romantic. More noble. I never imagined it would turn out like this.

Did Ayra know?

Was that why she tried to stop me from joining this tournament?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But none of that mattered now.

All that mattered was the battle ahead. I was the challenger. There was no room for holding back.

—Spellcasting Initiated.

I opened all my circuits and unleashed my full mana.

ZZZZZT—!

The lightning-like force running from head to fingertips made me dizzy—but I endured.

And I didn’t stop there. I pushed even harder.

I replayed the mental simulations I’d run over and over again.

A long fight would favor her. I needed to win it fast.

The best chance was to pour everything into a first strike and bring her down in one blow.

ZZZZT—ZRRRRRT!

“...Guh...”

But before I could, my body began to falter under the weight of 8th-tier power. The raw intensity of my mana was too much for my body to handle.

Ayra narrowed her eyes at the sight.

“To burn yourself and shine so brightly... how beautiful. Just like a star burning itself to give off light...”

Even in this situation, Ayra’s eyes sparkled as she watched me glow.

That unbearable arrogance.

It was exactly the Ayra I had always pictured.

That arrogance would create an opening.

“Ayra. Then this will be even more beautiful.”

Bael.

You grant greater power at greater cost.

“Then fine. Eat.”

I offer you my lifespan.

Give me power.

Give me everything.

“Ultimate Magic—!”

Teo-Nova!!!

...

━You must be Beatrice. Nice to meet you. All I ask is that you sweep the floor or talk to me a bit. I don’t have many friends.

...

━Betty, even when I’m an adult, you’ll still be an eternal girl, won’t you? But I heard nymphs can grow up too. They say in the northern woods, there’s a strange centipede...

When I came to.

...

I was floating among countless stars, with nothing left that could be called a body.

I didn’t know what had happened. What about Ayra? What happened to the tournament? Where was I?

Then, despite having no ears, a voice sank into my soul.

━Why did you leave me behind...? I ask for nothing more. No matter what form you take—just being beside me would have been enough...

No—it wasn’t a voice.

It was emotion.

Sorrow.

━If the world would take you from me, then I’ll take everything from the world to get you back.

And rage.

━I offer my life. My future. The lives of all who live on this star, and every unborn fate to come. I offer eternity itself.

━So give me power.

━Give me everything!!!

The pure, unfiltered emotions nearly drowned me like paint in water. I flailed, desperate not to lose myself.

━I am the pinnacle of magic. The end of all ages. The final arbiter. The world shall break.

I had to get out of here.

Swish—

Whether by sheer will or some residual magic, I finally sensed my body again.

At my waist, something whined.

It was the magical scroll—《Squirrel Vault》—a gift from Ayra. I reached into it, as if guided.

Click.

My hand closed around something—something hard, rectangular.

As I pulled it out, I met the gaze of blue eyes shining like sapphires.

━My moon. My star. My long-burning flame. Beatrice.

Letters and thoughts rose together.

“Eternal Girl: The masterwork of a man who wanted to hold onto the past. Sometimes she smiles. Sometimes she cries. Abilities unknown.”

“Eternal Girl”?

Abilities unknown?

I didn’t understand it—but I could see the blinding light beyond her eyes.

Entranced, I drew my dagger and sliced the painting from top to bottom.

Zaaash.

Behind the painting was a strange space.

A passage.

Clear as day—a passage.

━You are the final future. The last piece. You’ve hidden from me for a long time, but my eyes pierce all and glimpse even fate. Come. Accept destiny.

CRACK—!

“Ugh!”

Suddenly, something grabbed my ankle—something sharp.

As it crushed my leg, I panicked and flung myself into the passage.

That’s when I heard:

“Beatrice... A nymph of Solomon, huh? I didn’t know her name until now. To think such a painting was stored in the Shrine of All Gods.”

“...!”

I gasped and came to.

I was standing in front of a frame in a dark cave.

“This girl looks a lot like you, Sir Teo.”

Next to me, speaking casually, was Mirna von Draco.

I didn’t understand.

“Lady Mirna! How... How did you get here? What is this place? Is this the Shrine of All Gods?”

Mirna furrowed her brows.

“Sir Teo... You’re drenched in sweat... I should be the one asking. What happened?”

“What...”

My head was spinning. Even with 《Calm Thinking》 active, my emotions were a mess.

Looking at Mirna and the Shrine of Draco, the only thing I could be sure of was—

I had returned to the Draco manor, sometime before the tournament.

Or at least, it seemed that way.

Was it all a dream?

“Sir Teo, what happened to your ankle?”

Rustle. Mirna pointed down.

I looked and saw my ankle soaked in blood—like I’d stepped in a bear trap.

Rolling up my pant leg, I found a blackened burn mark.

A strange one—shaped like a handprint.

“A brand...?”

Mirna’s eyes trembled.

Just slightly.