Crushing flags and claiming the Villainess

"This situation looks grim."

A flat, endless plain stretched in all directions. No hills, no skies, no shadows—just blinding white.

A world without borders. A space without time.

Most minds would break under such emptiness. Ten minutes here could tear through one's sanity. But the beings sitting around the large table weren't ordinary.

Seven of them. The Seven Gods.

They sat in silence for a while, each one weighed down by the same thought.

Astaroth.

He had once shaken the balance of realms. Not because he had the blood of the divine. Not because he was chosen. But because he understood something that few others did—power came from belief.

The more he was worshipped, the more his strength multiplied.

Demons across continents chanted his name. Sacrifices were made. Cities were burned in his honor. And with every act of devotion, Astaroth's reach grew. His flame rose higher, inching toward the heavens.

And had they not acted, he would've reached it.

But the heavens weren't built for him.

He wasn't a deity. He wasn't bound by the same sense of order. He would've corrupted everything—twisted the very rules they'd built over eons. His rise would've brought ruin not only to mortals, but to the heavens themselves.

So they intervened.

Not with force—but with temptation.

A deal.

A promise that no danger would ever touch him, as long as he remained bound to the planet. In return, he would give up his climb. He would never become divine. He would stay mortal.

The offer was too good for him to refuse.

He accepted.

And from that moment, Astaroth ruled without fear. He became the Monarch—untouchable, unchallenged. A name that echoed across species, nations, and generations.

Until it all began to crumble.

An anomaly appeared.

A being outside their plans.

He wasn't born of prophecy. He wasn't chosen by them. He came from the cracks in fate—bent the flow of time just to find a challenge. Found allies in places even the Gods had long forgotten. Changed battles that were supposed to be one-sided.

And now, he was fighting Astaroth inside that Dome. Not just fighting—tearing him apart, piece by piece.

"He's breaking Astaroth's soul," muttered a God with red wings and a short blade at his waist. "His guards fell. One after another."

"We warned him," another said with a cold tone. "Our pact was to keep him alive. Not to protect him."

They had already bent the rules once—secretly restoring Astaroth's vitality to give him a fighting chance. A small push. A hidden favor.

But even that was dangerous.

The Pact was binding.

They weren't allowed to intervene further. Not unless they wished to face judgment themselves.

"He thought no one could touch him," a third God said, voice heavy with regret. "Now someone has. And it's too late to stop what's coming."

"He was never supposed to win," said another quietly. "Just to rule. Just to hold the balance until the end. That was the whole point."

"But now the end may come early," said the one with the sword. "And not on our terms."

The table grew quiet again.

"I don't understand," said the youngest among them, his tone sharp and careless. "Why are we even worried? It's not like we care about that demon. All we need to do is show up when he's on the brink of death and erase that brat."

A few of the older Gods sighed in unison. The silence that followed was heavy—until the one sitting beside him turned his head.

"That's not the point, brother," the older one replied calmly. "The anomaly is getting stronger by the second. His power was already enough to suppress Astaroth's soul inside that dome. And now… now he's approaching something else."

He paused.

"An evolution."

The younger God clicked his tongue in annoyance. "So what, we're worried he might reach our level?"

"No," the older one said, turning his gaze forward. "We're worried he might go beyond it."

The room fell quiet again.

The idea wasn't impossible. No one wanted to admit it, but they had all felt it—that subtle shift in the threads of fate. The anomaly wasn't just some overpowered mortal playing with magic. He was rewriting rules. Bending natural laws. Challenging the divine not out of hate, not for glory… but because he could.

And the most annoying part: he doesn't need followers, devotees to reach this height.

"We need to do something about this soon or it will be too late."

Astaroth was an evil entity who could have risked the world order. But Austin? They knew he would take his revenge on them once he reached the heavens.

....

"Valerie," Cedric called out as he approached the girl.

She turned toward him, her brows elevating. "Father… do you need something?"

Selner also looked over, sensing the hesitation in Cedric's steps.

The man looked hesitant as he spoke, "Um… I know this might not be the best time to ask, and we should probably be more patient given the situation… but do you happen to have anything to drink?"

Valerie's heart sank slightly. Guilt surfaced on her face.

She hadn't brought anything with her.

There hadn't been time to prepare, and just moments ago, she and Selner had been discussing how they were going to survive in this dungeon. They had no idea how long they would be trapped here, and supplies were already becoming a concern.

She opened her mouth to respond—but before she could say a word, the familiar chime of the system echoed in their ears.

[All necessary supplies will be delivered based on immediate needs. Please state your requirement.]

Cedric blinked, clearly startled. "…Can I get some water?"

Without another sound, a large clay jar appeared on the ground, along with several clean glasses.

[The host had stored supplies in the inventory for this situation. However, please remain mindful of your resource consumption.]

Cedric stared for a second before picking up the jar. The surface was cool to the touch, condensation forming along the sides.

He turned toward the air and gave a small, grateful nod. "Thanks, dear."

Valerie let out a long breath of relief. "Austin planned for everything… thankfully."

Selner gave a small nod. "I couldn't use my Teleportation here either. If not for him, things could've turned ugly fast."

Valerie wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes distant. "How long do you think it'll take before he returns?"

Only two hours had passed since Austin left—but every minute without him felt heavier than the last. Her chest remained tight, her thoughts restless.

The very idea that her Lord was out there—alone, and with the Demon Lord—gnawed at her heart.

Selner sighed softly. "The fact that we're still here, and the System hasn't raised any alarms… it tells me Austin's alright."

She looked toward the pale glow of the System's interface.

She'd noticed it before—the subtle warmth in its tone whenever Austin was mentioned, the way it responded a little faster to his voice, how it always addressed him with quiet reverence.

The System may have been artificial… but Selner knew better. It was emotionally connected to Austin, in ways that couldn't be defined with logic.

And the fact that it remained calm, still managing supplies and offering support, was its own kind of reassurance.

Austin was alive.

And for now… that was enough.

....

Austin let out a quiet sigh.

It had been a month—inside this sealed space—since he captured the being before him.

He always knew this path would be slow, that it would demand patience and control. Still… he couldn't help but miss Valerie.

Her warmth, her steady presence, her smiling face—he missed all of it.

Fortunately, the brutal training he underwent inside the dungeon after the Parasite Chief's attack had tempered his emotions. It had taught him how to endure.

But that didn't make the waiting any easier.

And even now, he had no idea how long it would take to fully break the Demon Lord's will.

Outside… maybe a day has passed, he guessed silently. Two, at most.

The voice that broke the silence was deep, persuasive, and soaked in an ancient pride.

"Why don't you make this a fair fight, Warrior?" the Demon Lord offered, his tone almost inviting. "Like in the old days. Let's end this the way we previously did. Steel against steel. Magic against magic. No chains. No seals."

Austin didn't even blink.

Instead, he muttered, almost lazily, "So… your woman taught you the art of bullshit, huh?"

There was a faint chuckle from the shadows ahead.

Amused. Unbothered.

And then, a shadow materialized before Austin, glaring at him with all the hatred he could muster, before voicing, "You won't win this, Warrior. Even if I have to spend the rest of eternity here with you, I promise on my pride, my soul, I won't give up."

Austin shrugged, "Well, let's see about that."

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading. If you have enjoyed the story so far, consider dropping a review.