The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

"I’m fine."

I spoke in a calm voice to the trembling Mikhail.

No matter how wildly Mikhail swung his sword, I wouldn’t get hurt.

Even if he imbued his sword with Aura.

Even if he aimed for my vital points in a moment of carelessness.

Mikhail’s sword could never reach me.

"Stop it!"

"I’m really fine."

The gap between her and me.

Because there was a wall that existed between us.

"Am strong."

-Ka-ga-ga-ga!

Mikhail’s body was swept across the floor by the force of the sword strike. Perhaps due to the overwhelming impact, he struggled to steady himself, his staggering movements prompting me to let out a bitter chuckle as I lightly loosened my wrist.

"Shall we begin the after-hours lecture?"

"Just kill me instead! I don’t want to hurt you!"

"Does that mean you believe you can defeat me?"

"That’s not what I mean! I just don’t want to hurt you…"

"Don’t worry. I won’t charge you for the after-hours lecture…"

I swung my sword lightly.

-Ka-kak!

Mikhail, holding back tears, managed to block the strike.

The reason I cared for Mikhail was.

Partly because we were friends, but also for a selfish reason—to make this world I lived in more peaceful.

Ruin, Mikhail, Yuria, and the Crown Prince. These four were pivotal figures in the novel, standing at the core of its grand narrative. I had no choice but to treat them favorably.

The title of the novel I possessed was "The Strongest at the Academy Like Me," and as an extra, not even a supporting character, what could I possibly do? Sucking up to them was the privilege of a possessor, so I indulged in that privilege as much as I could.

"Counterattack."

"Please! Just…!"

"I said, counterattack."

Unfortunately, Ruin had already crossed that line, but even in a world where the protagonists existed openly, there were boundaries I had to be cautious of.

"Hold your sword properly."

"...Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this."

"No."

I spoke firmly to the trembling Mikhail.

"This is necessary."

Because only then would Yung’s plan not come to fruition.

Yung must have envisioned a scenario like this.

A scene where someone chooses death for the sake of their loved ones. A provocative scene, which was why he remained in this battlefield where sword strikes rained down intermittently.

"Yes… this is the scene. Make it more tragic… more…!"

But there was one fact Yung had overlooked.

"Let’s start again."

"...Stop it!"

"Grip your sword tightly."

It was the fact that I was someone who could beat Mikhail without any hesitation. Rather, this was a good opportunity to relieve stress and train her to become even stronger, making it a not-so-bad experience.

From the beginning, I was a selfish person.

To lighten the burden carried by a possessor, I shifted some of that weight onto them.

In countless fictional works, possessors sacrificed themselves to achieve a happy ending, but I lacked such benevolence.

I was overwhelmed simply by the happiness of the Young Lady.

I had to guide Hanna through her wandering.

It was already overwhelming to make the people within my fence smile, so when the protagonists faltered, I had to step in to maintain the peace that was crumbling.

"..."

Mikhail had to remain steadfast. Only then could I, an extra, enjoy life to some extent.

"If you don’t focus, you’ll lose an arm."

"Ugh…"

"Yes, just like that…"

The more hardships Mikhail overcame, the fewer dangers I would have to bear. How could I hate him for that? Even if I did, I couldn’t show it in my current position.

However.

No, really…

"Please, stop it!"

Now that she had entered my fence as well, what could I possibly do? I wiped my sword with a faint smile.

Mikhail, panting heavily, looked at me with tearful eyes and spoke.

"Stop it now… It’s all my fault. Please, just stop…"

"Stand."

"Ricardo!"

"Stand up. How long are you going to keep hiding?"

At this moment, I stood here, feeling a mix of love and hate toward Mikhail.

The anger from the Academy.

The memories from the slum.

And the compassion I felt as a fellow human being.

All these complicated emotions were contained in the grip of my sword.

Mikhail, staring resentfully at the sword that wouldn’t leave his hand, spoke.

"I… I… can’t do this anymore."

Mikhail poured out his sorrow through his forcibly moving body.

"I can’t do this anymore!"

Tears began to fall heavily from Mikhail’s trembling eyes as he sobbed. If he could, he would have said he wanted to cut off his arm right then and there. With a pitiful expression, he lowered his head to the ground.

"Why… Why do I always have to hurt you?"

"Miss Misa."

"Why do I have to be trash to you?!"

"Miss Misa…!"

"I know! I know too! Damn it, I know I’m trash! Frustrating! Stupid! A piece of trash that only makes you sigh, I know that too…!"

It was troubling.

"But…"

If he revealed the information I had carefully hidden in this way, I wouldn’t know what to say when he regained his senses later.

"But… I was trying to change…! Hic…"

Moreover.

’It seems… she remembers.’

I felt as though she had realized something about the past.

’Since when?’

Watching Mikhail belittle himself, I bit my lip. I felt like things were going off track.

I had originally planned to kill Yung and return to normal, but seeing the mask of "Misa" that Mikhail’s care had created begin to crack, my thoughts grew complicated.

The words she spoke.

"Why… Why do I always hurt you?!"

"…"

"I couldn’t even talk about it…! I couldn’t even make excuses for why I did it…!"

Words that could only be spoken if she recalled her past memories. I bit my lip and clenched my fist.

’It’s too early.’

Mikhail probably wasn’t ready yet. The signs that this relationship might break earlier than expected left my lips feeling dry.

Mikhail couldn’t be allowed to break down like the image shown in the Status Window. For the future of the novel and for Mikhail as a person, I had no idea what kind of outcome this would bring.

"Stop it."

"I wanted to change too…"

"Miss Misa, stop it!"

"Now... I just wanted to stop...!"

Memories often turn into a colossal burden.

-Crash!!

"Now, stop..."

Mikhail seemed incapable of understanding that burden.

If that’s the case.

-Screech...

Mikhail had to end this ill-fated connection with his own hands.

Because.

It was something that had to be done for Mikhail’s sake.

I loosened my grip as I watched Mikhail’s approaching sword.

*

To Mikhail, this moment felt like hell.

-It’s okay.

Ricardo’s composed smile, as he calmly received the sword, felt unbearably pitiful.

Even in a moment of complete understanding, the only thing he could do was hurt him.

Strike down with the sword.

Hurl cruel words.

Callously reject kindness.

He had learned the sword and worked hard to grow stronger, hoping to return as a better version of himself to the child in his memory, but the result of his efforts had become thorns that pierced like a cactus, making it impossible to smile.

Could he dare to smile when his own efforts were strangling him?

"Stop it now..."

It would be better to just stop.

The relentless efforts he had clung to seemed to make the faded memory of himself even more grotesque.

The burden kept piling on.

The weight on his shoulders had reached a limit he could no longer endure, growing heavier and heavier in an endless cycle.

There was no more room to stack anything.

-Because I’m strong.

His legs were trembling to the point of collapse, and yet, what more could he possibly do to justify saying something like that?

"..."

At that moment.

A cold voice pierced Mikhail’s ears with force.

"Wait a moment."

"..."

"By any chance."

"..."

"Do you think I’m your friend or something?"

"Huh...?"

"It seems like you’re under some kind of delusion."

Ricardo’s voice was icy.

"You weren’t always like this, were you?"

"..."

"You’re so different from usual that, honestly, it’s hard to adjust."

Ricardo, spitting out words as chilling as biting into ice, locked eyes with him while their swords clashed.

As if to say it truly wasn’t so.

With a pounding heart, Mikhail met Ricardo’s gaze and asked in a trembling voice.

"...You’re that kid, aren’t you?"

"What?"

"The one who cried with me in the slums... Lee Minhyuk."

"Who’s that? Lee Minhyuk? What a strange name."

"What are you talking about... Don’t pretend you don’t know."

"You seem to be under a huge misunderstanding..."

Ricardo’s sword pressed harder, grazing lightly past his side.

"I’ve been Desmond from the very beginning."

"...To me, you were definitely."

"It’s a lie."

"What?"

"I said, it’s a lie."

"A lie?"

"I thought maybe I could gain something, so I lied."

Ricardo asked Mikhail in a merciless tone.

"The person in your memory. Were they as violent as I am?"

"...No."

"Did they beat people recklessly, irritate them, and act like this?"

"No..."

"See?"

Ricardo sneered, glaring at the flustered Mikhail.

"You’ve got the wrong person entirely."

"..."

"Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"Are you really not?"

"I’m not."

-Bang!

Ricardo kicked Mikhail hard in the stomach, letting out a frustrated sigh as he brushed back his hair.

"I thought there might be something valuable here, but instead, I’ve gotten caught up in this bizarre situation."

"..."

"Think about it. If I were the person you remember, would I have grown up like this? That person wasn’t some grumbling punk. They’d have grown into a fine adult, don’t you think?"

Ricardo’s gaze wasn’t fixed on Mikhail’s eyes. He kept looking at something above, his expression hardening and softening repeatedly.

Mikhail failed to notice this change in Ricardo. To Mikhail, it felt as if a violent storm was raging inside him.

He hadn’t thought of it.

The possibility that all of this was a lie.

Even what the Blue Window had shown him.

The Archbishop’s lies.

He couldn’t bring himself to believe that everything was a lie.

"Don’t be deceived!!!!"

Yung’s shout struck Mikhail’s ears with force.

"Don’t be deceived...! I know for sure! That bastard is the same as back then!"

"What do you mean, the same?"

"Kiddo... Don’t ruin my script."

"Let me have some fun too."

"You...!!!"

Mikhail’s body refused to move according to his will.

Whether it was the truth or not.

He couldn’t stop his hands.

At the moment when Ricardo’s sword and Mikhail’s sword clashed.

’Wait a second...’

Mikhail belatedly realized the flaw in Ricardo’s words.

’He called me Mikhail...?’

The clear pronunciation of "Lee Minhyuk" that he had spoken.

The term by which he had been calling himself "Mikhail" for some time.

’From the very beginning...’

"Liar..."

"I realized it far too late."

’He already knew.’

As the strength drained from the clashing swords, Mikhail’s blade slashed deeply into Ricardo’s body.

"Crybaby kid."

-Srrk.

"You’ve grown up wonderfully."

***

’...’

With narrowed eyes, I quietly observed Mikhail, who remained still.

’Has he awakened...?’

Mikhail was walking toward Yung with a cold expression.

Honestly.

The Cult Leader’s Orb was a bit frightening.

’I can’t be late for bath time.’