The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

The crimson thunderstorm poured streams of light through the window.

As the deafening [Boom] echoed in my ears, the strange wail of the monster filled the air, and each tremor that shook the ground was accompanied by an eerie voice crying, “It hurts…!”

Olaf, staring at the suffering beast, showed signs of true surprise for the first time.

No one had ever dealt significant harm to that creature before. If I recall correctly, even Rowen hadn’t been able to scratch it in the novel.

That monster was a fragmentary existence that nullified all attacks.

It would be hard for someone to understand how damage could even be inflicted on such a creature—after all, it was basically considered a gift from God.

But I had no intention of enlightening them.

-Limits have pushed ‘Tirbing’ to test its boundaries.

That’s a corporate secret.

I let out a quiet sigh and turned my gaze toward the old man in front of me. Looking at his sturdy body, which seemed too well-built for someone his age, I took a slow, steady breath and spoke.

“You’ve gone senile, I see. And you have some rather twisted tastes.”

“How dare you harm a holy angel blessed by God…”

“An angel?”

I sneered and ignored the hatred burning in Olaf’s eyes. No matter how you looked at it, that thing was more of a demon than an angel.

“An angel without wings? What kind of angel is that? It’s disgusting, not to mention dirty.”

“Do not mock God’s messenger.”

“God wouldn’t want such a messenger.”

I clicked my tongue, deeply annoyed by the old man’s misguided pride.

“Why don’t you ask God yourself what He thinks?”

“…You refuse to seek mercy?”

“I’ve tried asking, but turns out, I wasn’t worthy enough. Guess I didn’t pay the full tab.”

Olaf chuckled as if amused by my flippant response, shaking his head slightly.

“You speak so freely. It seems you do not fear the wrath of God’s judgment.”

Much like a small dog baring its teeth at a tiger, Olaf seemed to think that I didn’t grasp the difference in power between us.

Olaf laughed, his shoulders trembling with mirth.

“Pffft. Pfff-hahaha… You’re quite the funny one.”

“…”

“If you were merely grain, I’m sure the Lord’s angel would be pleased as well.”

Olaf’s eyes remained fixed on me.

Though his back was slightly hunched from laughter, his upward gaze pierced me with deadly intensity.

I squinted as I met Olaf’s sharp glare.

“Is dementia setting in?”

“Heh.”

As a cold chuckle slipped from Olaf’s lips, an alarm slowly began ringing deep within me. The tolling bell echoed inside, signaling a threat, as Olaf’s fierce gaze bore down on my heart.

Olaf clasped his hands together and looked up at the sky. In a soft voice, loud enough for the heretic followers around us to hear, he began to speak.

“Brothers and sisters, show mercy… to this poor young man.”

Gradually, the shadows of the heretics closed in around me. Perhaps deciding that James was no longer a threat, they left him behind and began walking towards me.

I silently counted as I glanced at their heads.

‘One… Two… Six.’

With a light movement, I swung Tirbing.

I didn’t have the luxury of listening to the backstory of every small fry. Without even bothering to introduce myself, I cut through their necks.

With a ‘shrrip,’ blood sprayed onto Olaf’s face, staining the floor a deep crimson.

“…”

There wasn’t the slightest hint of shock as the heretics dropped dead. Olaf, wearing a calm smile, looked at me with benevolence plastered across his face.

“You refuse to show mercy.”

I raised my middle finger, extending a sincere gesture of respect toward the old man.

“I don’t have time for mercy, not while I’m busy trying to survive. Who has time for that?”

“To the very end, you deny mercy.”

Olaf lifted both hands and looked towards the sky. As if tattling to God, he raised his hands in a prayer-like gesture toward the dark, cloudy night.

“Oh God, what should I do with this lost lamb?”

I rolled my eyes. Just kill me already, right? I mean, that’s what you’re planning anyway.

I ignored the rambling old man’s prayer and focused on the corner of the room, where I saw the trembling form of James.

I first had to finish one thing before moving on. Getting James to safety was the priority.

“Are you alright?”

James nodded weakly, though it took all his strength to do so.

“Thank you, kind guest. I’ll repay this debt with a… date with my daughter…”

“Shut your mouth.”

“Urk…”

As I supported James, I clicked my tongue in frustration at the sight of his heavily bleeding abdomen. His injuries were worse than I thought—there was no way he could walk on his own.

But what choice did we have? If he wanted to live, he’d have to walk.

-Ah… Truly, dear Lord… Grant your judgment upon those who show no mercy…

I shot a glance at Olaf, who was muttering frantically to himself, and I whispered coldly into James’s ear. I told him he would have to walk, even if it hurt. He wasn’t the only one suffering, and if he wanted to live, he had no choice but to keep moving.

Fortunately, James seemed to understand the situation and nodded.

“Nnngh… I’ll stand up.”

“Good. Now, just keep moving forward.”

“What about you, guest?”

“For now…”

-Whoosh.

Just as I helped James reach the stairs, an axe whistled through the air, narrowly missing us, embedding itself into the wall with a sharp [Thwack].

I shoved James down the stairway as I turned my gaze towards him, smiling slightly as our eyes met.

“Run.”

And in that very same instant—

-SHHHHOOAARRR!!!

A fierce whirlwind erupted.

*

Olivia stared blankly at the inn.

Blinking at the monstrous figure rising from the ground.

Blinking at the inn’s roof flying off.

Blinking at the man struggling to emerge from the inn’s front door.

“Hey.”

Olivia turned her head and addressed the man standing next to her.

“How long are you planning to keep me here?”

“…”

“Ricardo went in there, but he hasn’t come out. He must’ve gotten lost. I need to go find him…”

Her words received no response. The man merely stood there, trembling, his lips tightly pressed together in silence.

“Hey? I asked you.”

Whoosh. The swirling wreckage of the building was blocked by Hans’s barrier, dissolving into dust upon impact.

Staring absentmindedly at the vanishing debris, Olivia spoke again.

“I told you, Ricardo is in there.”

“…Sir Ricardo ordered me to stay and protect you, my lady.”

“Ricardo?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“…”

Hans couldn’t answer Olivia’s questions. After all, these were merely the orders he’d received.

Hans knew fully well.

He understood exactly what it meant to face an Apostle. He knew just how deadly they could be.

That’s why he remained here, unable to do anything but follow his orders. He knew that any rash assistance on his part would only get in the way.

-I’m going to fight the Apostle.

-What do you mean by that?

-Just what it sounds like. I’m going to fight the Apostle.

-You can’t! Absolutely not! No matter how strong you are, an Apostle is beyond—

-I’m going to win.

Hans clenched his fists, doing his utmost to protect Olivia. Ricardo’s order was clear: ‘Guard the lady.’ With a voice strained by frustration, Hans reaffirmed his command.

“It’s an order.”

“…”

“I must follow it.”

Olivia placed her hand on the unyielding barrier, looking up.

“…Ricardo.”

Slowly, the darkness began to rise.

*

-Clang.

A heavy blow struck Tirbing as axes materialized out of thin air, continuously sprouting from Olaf’s sleeves, each one aiming for my blind spots with brutal precision.

“So damn fast.”

Despite my foul language, I knew in my heart that it was manageable.

Indeed, Olaf’s power was fitting for someone called an Apostle. But his attack patterns were simple. Once I got used to them, I could handle it. Though his strikes were deadly, all I had to do was block them.

-Clang!

Deflecting another bone-chilling blow, I gradually closed the distance between us, taking deep breaths as I condensed my aura even further.

“Hoo.”

Olaf observed the gathering aura with a sinister smile, his eyes locked on my sword. He smiled quietly, as if finding my actions amusing.

“I’ve offered sacrifices who wielded aura before, but this is quite interesting. Perhaps this, too, is a tribute from our Lord.”

Olaf remained collected.

He was taking his time, leisurely offering prayers even while facing me. Like a butcher weighing a piece of meat, Olaf spared glances at my hands and feet, grinning all the while.

‘Now.’

I knew it.

That this wasn’t the full extent of an Apostle’s power.

There were countless hidden moves and unimaginable abilities lying in wait. I was keenly aware of this. But I also knew something else.

Even an Apostle has their moments of carelessness.

I was waiting for that moment, seizing it like a hunter locking onto prey.

It was this very vulnerability, shared even by the Imperial Sword, that I was aiming for.

I knew the Apostle’s abilities.

What kind of magic he used.

What habits he had.

I knew them all too well.

The problem was dealing with it despite knowing. But in my mind, I already had a strategy for overcoming him.

The only way I could defeat this Apostle was by exploiting his habits—catching him off guard in a single, decisive strike. It was the most effective, efficient method I had.

I knew that if we engaged in open combat, I’d be at a disadvantage, so I continued to endure Olaf’s attacks, biding my time as I gathered my mana.

-Limits have pushed past the ‘Strength Limit.’

-Limits have pushed past the ‘Mana Limit.’

-Limits have pushed to test ‘Swordsmanship Lv. 6.’

.

.

.

Olaf’s yawns betrayed his boredom, even as blood dripped from his hands.

The crimson rivulets pooled onto the floor, painting a black magic circle that began to spread out across the ground.

Olaf gazed at the magic circle covering the second floor of the inn and smiled.

“Hehehe…”

“Don’t laugh. I might actually care about you.”

“God loves you, after all.”

Olaf continued to spout ridiculous nonsense about God’s love as I prepared for the moment when the real battle would begin.

I gripped my sword firmly.

I wasn’t kind enough to wait for him to finish his transformation. I aimed for the perfect moment, while he was still basking in his arrogance, to strike.

Now, while he was busy pontificating about the love of God and not using his full power, was my chance to pour everything I had into one attack.

‘Hanna would’ve loved to see this.’

With that thought, I thrust forward with Tirbing and whispered softly.

“Cut. [Genesis].”

I opened the door to my sword’s true form.

But then, the blade came to a halt—a single finger had effortlessly stopped it.

“Pffft-hahaha…”

Olaf laughed. He was laughing as he held my sword still with a single finger.

“Genesis? Puhahaha! What are you even saying?”

He mocked me.

Scoffing at how I had dared to name such a pathetic slash. Belittling the audacity behind attacking him with such a move.

“Ha… Truly, it seems that I must show you mercy after all.”

Olaf held my sword, now frozen mid-air, and whispered softly to me.

“Receive the weight of your sins.”

His ability is reflection.

Commonly called Athena’s Reflector.

It reflects any attack back to its sender while transferring all collected damage to a monstrous creature.

“…Cough.”

I knew this.

I knew that Olaf wielded the power to reflect all damage, rampaging unchecked as a berserker on the battlefield.

But so what?

“Genesis [開闢].”

Even as I coughed up blood, I smiled.

-Limits push the hands of restoration to their breaking point.

Because I’m still going to win.

End of Chapter.