Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 155: The Red Prophet

Vesper Rosefield was many things. Handsome. Rich. Confident, even though some would say arrogance.

However, in the last six months, he'd been stripped of some of those things and had others added to it.

He was still handsome, but he was no longer rich. He was still a Rosefield but no longer competent. He was filled with fear but more than that, he was overflowing with hatred.

His heart burned with it. The emotion suffused every part of him, body and soul. He'd learnt how stupid he'd been. How much his confidence had been built upon a foundation of nothing.

And when he'd heard of the barbarian attack on House Ross, he'd felt a mix of satisfaction and resentment.

Satisfaction that Terence Ross would also get to feel his world burn to ashes around him. Satisfaction that as it all burned to the ground, he would not be able to do anything to change it.

And resentment that the barbarians had taken the choice of seeing to the end of the Ross family himself. Resentment that he'd not been given the chance to kill Terence himself.

And so he'd prayed everyday. Unlike Elnoria, there was no belief in a god in Albion. All that they had was the Blood Tree. So, he prayed to it. He had prayed with all that he had that Terence would survive. That they would meet again. And that he'd kill the man himself.

The next logical step had been to train. While he'd been removed as heir of the family and his younger brother had been installed in his place, he'd been allowed into the family's blood Farm where he'd killed as many available animals as he could and advanced to a Rank 4 Knight.

He'd been looking forward to the end of the barbarian war with House Ross, but something worse had happened. Others would say it is a blessing but he knew better. King Kane Vermilion was not a man fond of giving blessings. Especially to the supposed useless son of House Rosefield, the stupid villain of all the stories about Terence.

But that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting inside this godforsaken city without revealing the box that was radiating heat from the pouch in his side.

"What is the purpose of your visit, sir?" The Elnorian soldier asked Vesper as his fellow soldiers performed a cursory search of his entourage around them.

"Business." Vesper answered, his heart trying to beat its way out of his ribs. He shifted his weight on his horse, staring down at the man.

"What type of business?"

Vesper's mind went blank and he opened his mouth, struggling for something to say. "T— Trade." He stammered.

The soldier narrowed his eyes, sweeping it over the belongings of the party with them. "Where are the goods you plan to sell?"

"Oh, we're not selling." Vesper answered quickly, trying to calm himself. "We're buying."

"I see." The soldier eyed Vesper for a few more seconds before nodding. "The fee for entry is three weights per head, which is equivalent to five silver Albion coins. Your belongings attract another three weights."

Vesper nodded to one of the soldiers he'd been given by the king, who dipped into his pouch and paid the fees.

New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on ƒгeewebnovёl.com.

They were waved into the city and as they rode through its streets, Vesper just couldn't believe how cramped it was. The streets were narrow, with the buildings on either side of the road built tall enough to block the sun except during midday when it was overhead.

There was a crush of people and their horses barely had much space in front of it. They slowed down to the pace of the crowd, slowly cutting their way through.

There was a crack and a shriek of pain behind him as a pickpocket tried to steal his coin pouch but had his wrist broken instead.

The crowd didn't even care, no one sparing the pickpocket more than a glance before he disappeared into the crowd.

A cry rose into the air and in an instant, everybody, including Vesper and his entourage, who had been dragged along the flow of the crowd, were pressed to the edges of the road, leaving a clear path in the middle.

Everyone bowed their heads, looking down as horses clip clopped down the path.

Vesper sneaked a peek and when he caught sight of what he was, looked back down.

In the kingdom of Elnoria, only a certain group of people are allowed to wear white cloaks. The Chosen. The special order of the church that held the only real power in Elnoria.

His heart thudded in his chest as they passed, praying that no one noticed the heat in his pouch.

When the Chosen were gone, they continued on their way and gradually, the crowd began to thin until they got to the more affluent area, where there were more people on horses than those walking.

A few minutes later, they arrived at their destination, handing over their horses to the stable boy, who Vesper was sure was one of their soldiers in disguise.

He looked up at the tall, thin building. This would be the place. The place where it would all begin.

He walked inside, his cloak fluttering behind him.

"My lord!" One of the men inside greeted with a bow, directing him to the basement.

He climbed down the stairs into a room that seemed to be perfect for what they were about to do.

On the walls were scones where fire burned in them, casting the room in light. The ground had been left the same, his boot touching the soil as he stepped into the basement.

Waiting for him was a man in a wooden lion mask, wearing a dark cloak with the hood up. "You're late, Red Prophet."

"And you must be Nero." Vesper said, coming to stand before the man.

"Yes, my lord." Nero stepped to the side, gesturing to the ground near the wall opposite the staircase. "And time is running out. The seed must be planted."

Vesper swallowed, reaching into his pouch and retrieved the ring box inside of it. Holding it in front of him, he just stared at it, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Prophet?" Nero spoke.

With a shuddering breath, Vesper opened the box. The energy of the seed sitting innocently inside the box slammed into him. He gritted his teeth, standing his ground.

With shaking fingers he picked up the seed, ignoring the way the crimson mist licked at his hands.

He walked to the other end of the small basement, knelt, dug up a hole, planted the seed in it and covered it up.

His hand reached to his side and drew his dagger out of its sheath. Gripping the blade, he sliced his palm. He held his clenched fist over the planted seed, allowing blood to drip onto the soil.

He stood, stepping back immediately, and the ground cracked as wood surged out of it, growing at an insane rate.

The plant transformed into a tree without a single leaf, the dark branches reaching into the ceiling and melding with it. The trunk twisted and as the growth slowed to a stop, it was stuck in the shape of a throne.

Nero stepped back with a whisper. "It is time, Prophet."

Vesper's whole body shook, his breath shuddering as he stepped to the tree and slowly sat on it.

The tree shuddered as the energy seeped into him, his mouth falling open and a scream tearing out of it.

A scream that announced to the energies of the world that the minor Calamity had been awoken.