Ascension Of The Villain-Chapter 304: Ashes of Indifference

Vyan closed his eyes, a quiet breath slipping past his lips as his head came to rest on Iyana's shoulder. His weight felt like nothing in her arms, still, she adjusted her grip to make it more comfortable for him. Then, she began walking toward the shattered gates of the Grand Hall.

That's when she noticed it.

The fire.

It wasn't just one place—it was everywhere. Flames had begun catching along the fractured pillars, the torn tapestries, the broken remnants of battle-scarred walls. The Grand Hall was now a pyre-in-the-making, the very air thick with smoke and heat. If left unattended for some time longer, it would soon burn to the ground.

And in the corner of it all—Sienna's body, engulfed in flames.

Clyde had just knelt down, gently placing Althea on the ground, her breath shallow as her body began its slow, self-healing process. A shimmer of golden light flickered around her as mana surged weakly from her core, knitting her wounds.

Clyde's hand lingered on her cheek briefly and tenderly. Then, he stood.

He turned. And began walking.

The air around him felt… wrong. Cold. Ruthless. Like from when he had gone under mind-control.

Sienna's lips curled the moment she saw him rise, knowing that his coldness now didn't stem from her dark magic, rather from the core of his own heart. Her eyes narrowed as she grit her teeth.

"You—how are you—" she started, trying to summon her next spell, but—

Fwoosh.

The wind howled.

A slicing force ripped through the space between them so fast it was silent.

Splatter.

Her mouth was left hanging. Her eyes wide. It happened too fast for her to register it.

She was frozen. As if staying still was going to slow the process.

Blood gushed from her side. It literally went splattering all around. Her right arm now flew away—detached from her body.

The dismembered limb hit the ground with a sickening wet thud. Her mouth made to scream, but a searing pain shot through her mouth before a sound could escape.

Her tongue burned, sizzled, and dissolved with a faint hiss.

Sienna's knees buckled. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

She stumbled back, choking on silence and blood.

Clyde's eyes were stone. His face unreadable, his voice hollow.

"You know, I didn't really want to be the one to kill you."

He walked toward her, step by step, like a predator approaching a mortally wounded beast.

"I used to think… maybe Lady Iyana or Vyan should be the one to do it. That it would mean something. Feel like justice, perhaps."

A scoff escaped him. Not of amusement, but of disgust.

"But people like you don't deserve meaning. You don't deserve a final speech, or some poetic end. Because you'd never repent. You'd die proud of everything you did."

The flames of a spell ignited at his fingertips. Small at first. Then growing.

"You made me hurt Althea. You made me spill Vyan's blood. You killed my brother."

Her eyes widened, still filled with so much hatred, defiance, and venom. She didn't regret a thing. In fact, she was screaming with her eyes that she'd do it all over again.

Clyde didn't flinch. She didn't scare him. She had already turned him into a monster.

"I wish I could make you suffer. Really, I do. But even that would be giving you too much. So…"

With a flick of his wrist—

Fwoom.

Fire surged upward, engulfing her. It wasn't an ordinary flame—it was precise, vicious, almost hungry. It clung to her, feeding on her flesh, ignoring her struggles, silencing her without mercy.

"Begone," Clyde whispered, turning away without watching her finish burning.

———

Back to Present

Iyana exhaled softly.

She watched the last flickers of Sienna's silhouette collapse inward. The fire crackled lazily, no longer violent, just hungry and dull.

She didn't look away in anger. Nor satisfaction.

Just calm, hollow indifference.

She had already taken out her anger on Sienna's clone. So, she had no feelings left for her any longer. That chapter was closed.

"It should have happened sooner," she murmured to herself.

And then, she continued walking, carrying Vyan close against her chest.

Let the past burn.

The future was in her arms.

As soon as Iyana stepped through the broken gates of the Grand Hall, the cool night air kissed her cheeks. It slightly stung the injury on her head, but she didn't pay much attention, rather worried about Vyan. Even though the cold didn't bother him, she wanted to get some medical help for him as soon as possible.

Getting down the stairs, the world outside was quiet compared to the inferno they were leaving behind, the crackle of flames fading into background noise, like a memory slowly being buried.

Then suddenly, Vyan stirred.

His body tensed ever so slightly in her arms before his eyes snapped open, sharp with awareness. His hand instinctively reached up to his neck… then his ear.

Iyana halted mid-step.

"What's wrong?" she asked, tightening her hold on him as she shifted her balance, concerned.

He didn't answer immediately, his gaze drifting over her shoulder, eyes darting and searching. As though trying to see through the wall of fire and ruin behind them.

"I realized it before… my pendant," he murmured, voice rough, distant. Almost like he wasn't talking to her, but to himself.

Iyana's eyes dropped to his blood-stained neck, her heart giving a faint flutter. It was bare.

The silver chain that always hung there—thin but worn, with a tiny engraved charm—was gone.

She tilted her head slightly, frowning. He had been wearing it just hours ago, when they were getting ready. She remembered clasping it around his neck, fingers brushing against his skin, adjusting his collar like she always did when he let her. That pendant—the one she had gifted him years ago, back when things were simple, back when they were still them—had survived heartbreak, silence, and seething resentment. Even when he couldn't look at her without bitterness, even when she thought she'd lost him for good, it never left his neck.

And now it was… just gone.

It must've gotten torn off, she thought, scanning the soot-smeared remains of his once-regal robes. The tornado had left him in ruins. That chain must've snapped during the chaos.

Her eyes followed the path of his fingers as they brushed his ear—where a single earring still clung in place. The red gemstone set in silver glinted faintly in the firelight. That one hadn't been touched. The heirloom from his father that worked as a support net for him whenever he stepped up to his Grand Duke duties. Its presence now felt like a small anchor of continuity amid everything else that had been lost.

"You still have this one," she murmured gently, brushing her thumb against the edge of the earring.

"Mm," he nodded faintly, lowering his hand.

"Do you want me to go back for it?" she asked, already shifting her footing as if ready to.

He shook his head slowly but firmly.

"No," he said. "Forget it. It'll be hard to find in that mess. Just get me a new one."

She raised a brow. "Really? But you liked that one so much." She remembered the sparkle in his eyes when he had first received the present—it was like she had handed over the entire world into his palms. He was that happy. So unfiltered.

Back then, she had made the quiet decision of doing whatever she could to see that expression on him again. She loved seeing him happy.

Naturally, she hated seeing him hurt or sad.

Right now, he was both. As if it wasn't already driving her crazy that he was bleeding all over. Now, he was even sad.

"Are you sure you will be fine with a new one?"

His lips quirked in a small, tired smile. "Yeah. I like everything you give me. So it's fine."

The words sank into her softly. Simple. Honest. The kind of quiet truth that didn't need to be dressed in sentiment.

Even though he meant what he said…

Vyan really cherished that particular pendant over her other gifts.

Iyana mustered a smile. "Then I'll get you a better one."

She didn't stop walking after that. The field beyond the hall stretched out into shadows, smoke trailing behind them like a ghost refusing to let go.

Somewhere deep in her chest, there was a strange tightness.

A faint, throbbing pulse that had no name and no cause. A subtle disturbance. Like the start of ripples from an upcoming big wave.

She brushed it off.

The night had been long. Her body ached. Her mind was frayed. That must be the cause.

But much to her unawareness, something unseen stirred within her own body.

Something that hadn't yet finished its part in the story.