Living As the Villainess Queen

Alber looked around, disoriented. She floated in an endless expanse of blue sky, a landscape unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. A surge of overwhelming joy mingled with a profound sorrow, creating a complex emotional tapestry.

Was she dreaming, or had death already claimed her? Her soul seemed detached from her body, weightless and free. The exhilaration was intoxicating, a bliss unlike any she had known.

Her gaze lifted towards a blinding white light. It promised oblivion, an escape from all suffering. A powerful pull drew her upward, but something held her back. She lowered her eyes to the distant world below. A faint whisper seemed to call to her.

I must go there, she decided, and with that, she plummeted towards the earth. The sky vanished rapidly as the ground rushed up to meet her. A small speck grew larger, revealing a city enclosed by protective walls. Its dense cluster of buildings was a stark contrast to the emptiness above.

“Ah,” she breathed, recognition dawning. This was the Holy City, the city that held her body captive. As she drew closer, she saw a shimmering dome enveloping the city. A fleeting glance revealed an army surrounding the metropolis, divided into five menacing groups.

“The identity of the monster has been revealed,” Jin had said. “The six kings have united to defeat it, gathering before Holy City, but they cannot breach the invisible wall and enter the city.”

Those must be the kings’ armies Jin mentioned, Alber realized. She focused her attention on the defensive barrier surrounding Holy City, studying its structure intently. As she observed, the spell deconstructed and reconstructed within her mind. Her thoughts expanded effortlessly, as if the spell’s intricacies had always been known to her.

“I understand now,” she murmured. “This is the principle behind the wall that blocks everything in this world.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Visualizing the spell’s structure, she mentally placed a mirror before it. The reflection, identical yet inverted, formed a new spell in her mind. This spell would repel anything not of this world, allowing only those belonging to it to pass through — larks.

“Yes, there is still work to be done,” she affirmed, her gaze fixed on the nothingness beyond. “I must witness the conclusion of the tragedy that began with my error in judgment.”

Her eyes emitted a golden glow as she bowed her head and placed her hands upon the spell formation etched into the floor. The images of the waiting armies and the activated spell within Holy City replayed in her mind. It had to be the lark control spell Jin had mentioned. If her calculations were correct, the creature’s end was imminent.

“If you are as cunning as I believe,” she muttered, “you will attempt to flee at the first sign of danger. But you will not escape, fiend.”

She knew the spell she was maintaining was taxing, but it would buy her the necessary time.

***

When Pered boasted that his snake was as thick as a human thigh, Riner immediately countered.

[My snake is as thick as a human torso.]

Richard chuckled as he scanned his spell notes. “That can’t be true,” he murmured. Sure enough, Pered swiftly responded. 

[If a low-grade red seed broke, it couldn’t produce a lark of that size. – Pered]

[As if I would lie about such a thing.]

[“Fire King, you didn’t break a higher-grade seed, did you? – Kasser]

Richard’s smile widened. The playful banter among the kings, a stark contrast to their usual formal demeanor, was a refreshing change. Amidst the tension of the impending battle, this lighthearted exchange provided a welcome respite. It would be unbecoming for six kings to display fear or anxiety before such a formidable foe. 

It would have been beneficial if the kings had communicated in this manner sooner, Richard mused. He hoped to continue this informal exchange in the future.

They didn’t always need to discuss matters of grave importance. Even kings experienced moments of stress or curiosity about the burdens shared by their peers. Simply expressing oneself without seeking a response could be therapeutic. After all, kings were human too.

Akil’s comment appeared: [If the Fire King isn’t lying, we must discuss the standard. Is the human torso based on a warrior’s torso? Surely it’s not a child’s torso, right? – Akil]

A long pause followed Akil’s query. Richard couldn’t suppress his laughter.

“Your Majesty!” A warrior’s urgent voice interrupted his amusement.

Richard quickly composed himself. The warrior entered with a grave expression. “Our lark’s behavior has changed,” he reported.

“Hmm?” Richard murmured, a sense of anticipation growing within him. “Could it be already?” he wondered aloud as he stepped out of the tent. The boar lark’s behavior was indeed altered. Instead of pacing and ramming, it was frantically pressing against one corner of the enclosure, facing the direction of Holy City.