Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain-Chapter 117: Do You Think, I am a Monster?

Rosalia — POV

The road ahead was no longer a road; it was a path.

It was a scar carved into the earth—blackened by fire, smeared with blood, littered with broken limbs, crushed skulls, and the remains of things that had once been human.

The convoy had stopped again.

For the fourth time.

Engines idled low, rumbling like restrained beasts, while the survivors scattered in small groups, collapsing wherever they could find shade or cover.

Some leaned against armored vehicles.

Others sat directly on the ground, too tired to care about the filth soaking into their clothes.

The smell was unbearable.

Rot. Blood. Burned flesh.

And beneath it all, the faint metallic tang that never seemed to fade anymore.

"Do you know why the boss’s face is so dark today?"

The question was whispered, cautious, as if speaking too loudly might summon something worse than the zombies.

"I don’t know," came the reply. "He’s been like that since this morning. Since before we even left the villa."

The speaker rubbed his temples, his hands shaking slightly.

His eyes were bloodshot—not from crying, but from exhaustion that had gone far past the point of pain.

"Man," another muttered, staring blankly at the road ahead, "how could the boss not be in a foul mood? Look at this damn place. Obstacles everywhere. Zombies crawling out of nowhere. Ever since we left the villa, it’s been one attack after another."

"Don’t remind me," someone groaned. He dropped heavily onto the bumper of a vehicle, his legs giving out beneath him.

"My energy is completely drained. I’ve been fighting for hours. Swinging. Dodging. Activating my ability over and over. I swear—if another horde shows up, I don’t know if my body will respond."

A can clicked open nearby.

The sharp scent of preserved meat filled the air.

"Hey—get that away from me," a man snapped suddenly, his voice cracking. "Don’t put that in front of my face."

"What? It’s food."

"My stomach turns every time I see meat now," he said harshly. "It’s like it’s screaming at me. Every cut, every tear—I can still feel it."

The group fell silent.

"...Yeah," another voice said quietly. "Same here. I almost threw up everything I ate the day before. Cutting through zombie flesh for hours—hearing bones break, feeling resistance give way—it’s burned into my head."

No one argued.

They all felt it.

Even when they closed their eyes, they could still see it.

Bodies collapsing.

Blood is spraying warm against their skin. Hands reaching.

Mouths snapping shut inches from their throats.

The low moans of zombies echoed faintly from the distance, carried by the wind.

Even now, even here, none of them truly believed they were safe.

Still—

"It’s a good thing we have someone like the boss with us."

The words slipped out, almost unconsciously.

"With his power," the man continued, swallowing hard, "we’ve survived situations that should’ve wiped us out completely. If it weren’t for him... we’d be dead. No question about it."

"That’s true," another agreed. "Every time things get desperate, he’s the one who breaks through. He’s like a wall between us and death."

"But..." someone hesitated.

"But?"

The man hesitated again, his fingers curling into his palm.

"Even though the boss is strong... every time he fights, my whole body shivers."

"...Shivers?"

"He looks terrifying," he admitted. "Not just strong. Not just cold. It’s like—like something inside him changes."

The silence deepened.

"Like he’s not human anymore," the man whispered. "Like... like—"

"...A demon?" someone finished quietly.

"...A monster."

"Yes!" The man clapped his hands together instinctively, relief flashing across his face. "Yes—exactly that!"

The sound echoed too loudly.

Far too loudly.

The air froze.

No one laughed. No one breathed.

The atmosphere shifted, heavy and suffocating, like the moment before a blade came down.

Slowly, one by one, the men lifted their heads.

Their expressions drained of color.

Because they weren’t looking at the speaker anymore.

They were looking behind him.

The man felt it before he turned.

That pressure. That presence.

His throat tightened.

He turned around.

Cassel stood there.

Silent. Motionless.

Blood stained his black coat, dried into dark patterns along the fabric.

His gloves were torn, knuckles scraped raw beneath.

The blade in his hand was still wet, crimson drops sliding lazily down the edge.

His eyes were calm.

Too calm.

"...S-Sir... Boss..." the man stammered, his legs trembling. "W-We—we’ve finished our lunch break. We’ll go prepare the vehicles immediately!"

He bowed so deeply his forehead nearly hit the ground.

Then he ran.

He didn’t dare look back.

He fled as if something monstrous were chasing him, stumbling over rubble, nearly falling more than once. In his mind, he was certain of one thing—

If he stayed any longer, he would end up just like the zombies.

Cut apart. Reduced to pieces. Discarded.

Honestly—

None of this had been easy.

After we brought Matthew into the group and left the small villa that had given us temporary shelter, the illusion of safety was shattered immediately.

The moment Frederick lowered the massive earthen wall he had created, the world beyond revealed itself.

Zombies.

Endless.

They surged forward in waves, bodies pressing against one another, snarling, clawing, screaming.

The convoy roared to life.

Engines thundered. Abilities flared. Weapons sang.

Cassel’s armored vehicles tore through the horde, crushing bodies beneath reinforced wheels.

His subordinates worked with brutal precision, opening a path just wide enough for the rest of the teams to escape without burning through too much stamina.

For a moment, we believed we had succeeded.

But the road didn’t let us go.

Within two hours, another horde appeared.

Then another.

And another.

Each one is larger. Each one stronger.

These weren’t the slow, brittle zombies from before.

Their bones were denser.

Their movements are sharper.

Some leaped onto vehicles.

Some clawed through steel.

The farther we traveled, the worse it became.

Until vehicles alone were useless.

Until ranged attacks failed.

Until we were forced to stop.

To dismount.

To fight face-to-face.

This was the fourth battlefield.

The fourth time we’d bled.

Everyone was exhausted.

Abilities flickered weakly. Hands trembled around weapons. Fear gnawed at the edges of their minds.

Even enhanced humans weren’t invincible.

Surrounded. Outnumbered. Bleeding.

Confidence crumbled.

"You scared that guy so badly he almost tripped three times."

I looked up at Cassel, unable to suppress a faint smile.

His expression stiffened.

"...Did I?" he asked quietly.

Ever since he allowed Matthew to stay, Cassel hadn’t left my side—not for a second.

Not during rest. Not during battle.

He positioned himself beside me instinctively, always within reach. Even when issuing orders, even when fighting, he made sure I was close.

So I followed him.

Through blood. Through chaos. Through death.

Whenever Matthew approached, Cassel either sent him away—or stared at him with naked hostility.

Matthew never backed down.

Their gazes clashed like blades.

I sighed inwardly.

Children.

Then—

"...Do you think so too?"

Cassel’s voice was hesitant.

I frowned. "Think what?"

He stopped.

Turned to face me.

"That I’m a monster," he said quietly. "A demon."

Ah.

So that was it.

Cassel in battle was terrifying—blood-soaked, surrounded by corpses, eyes cold and merciless.

Beautiful. Unreal. Horrifying.

Even now, blood clung to his skin.

I stepped closer. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Cassel," I asked gently, "do you kill because you enjoy it?"

He stiffened.

"No."

"Because you want to?"

"...No."

"Then are you satisfied by killing?"

"...No."

I reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek.

His breath hitched.

"You don’t kill for pleasure," I said softly. "You never have."

"We fight to survive."

"And no matter what you become in battle—"

I met his eyes.

"I will never be afraid of you."

"And I will never see you as a monster."

Not now.

Not ever.

Cassel’s hands trembled.

Just slightly.

Then he let out a long breath and pulled me into a tight embrace.

I didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he held me for a very long time before finally letting go.

We looked at each other as Cassel gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and said,

"Come on, let’s get to the car. We need to move again—before this area becomes dangerous too."

Thinking about the attacks we had been facing for some time now, I couldn’t help but open my mouth and ask anxiously,

"Cassel... do you think what’s happening to us is fair? I mean, those attacks—"

Before I could finish my question, Cassel pressed a finger to my lips, signaling me to be quiet.

Before I could finish my question, Cassel pressed a finger to my lips, signaling me to be quiet.

He looked at me with a meaningful gaze and said,

"Don’t think about anything. I’m here. I’ll take care of everything."

It was clear that he was the one who had doubts and thoughts swirling in his mind, yet he didn’t want to speak of them.

It was enough for me to know that he understood—so I didn’t bring it up again.