Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 253: I’m Leaving

***

{Outside The Projection}

The yelling died down.

It wasn't all at once, of course, more like an old campfire burning out.

A few curses still popped here and there, someone muttered something about "blue balls," but yeah... their frustration was fizzling out. No one was getting those answers.

They all knew Malik had just been fed something huge.

The kind of information that melted minds.

But of course, Malik barely reacted.

He didn't ask questions like a normal man. Didn't ramble or theorize.

As every man and woman on Fam Iblis expected, he... just... nodded.

And that was what made it worse.

"I don't think he even cared."

"He didn't! He never does!"

"Man lives like life's a checklist."

"'Oh, you're telling me our world is fucked? Hmm, neat. Now, where's the nearest cheat I can shove to hasten my vengeance plan?'"

The crowd collectively sighed.

That was Malik.

He didn't chase mysteries he couldn't reach. Didn't bother with Gods he couldn't stab. Focused only on what was now—what was here. Always had. Always would.

Still, a few kept scratching their heads.

"You think he even understood what Cyrus told him?"

"Psh. Doesn't matter. He only kept the part that'd help him kill the Former Sultan."

"…Fair."

Then came that part... The Well. And that got a proper reaction.

"He didn't know what it was?"

"Everyone knows the Well! Even mortals!"

"You idiots, of course he doesn't! Did you already forget that he was a beggar?"

"Ah—my fault... but can you even blame me? I bet almost everyone forgot that."

"I agree, I agree!"

The same man who bashed them clicked his tongue.

"It's only you dumbasses, but whatever..."

Some in the back laughed.

"It's still funny though~!"

"The man can name the most obscure of things but doesn't know the single most legendary place after Al-Fawra. Amazing."

"Indeed. His knowledge is like a cracked jar. Some parts hold gold. Others… rats."

The seasoned Magi in the crowd, especially the older ones, weren't laughing though.

They had gone quiet.

Not out of fear.

But out of respect.

"…He's taking it too lightly."

"If he walks into that place, it'll break him even further."

"Or worse... It might kill him, send him into another one-second loop."

They shivered at that possibility, not wanting to see anything close to that ever again.

It traumatized them, an endless second of death...

Seriously, they could not question it enough.

How was Malik even standing?

Perhaps that was the answer they'd never attain.

It made them terrified of what they'd see in the Well.

Most of the hall knew, some even firsthand, what'd happen in there.

For a regular Magi, the Well was a gamble.

For someone like Malik?

It'd be a bloody nightmare.

And when the projection resumed, with Malik walking off like nothing happened, the only thing left for the crowd to do…

"May God help him." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

…was watch.

***

{Above The Palace}

High above the now silent crowd, past the marble and shimmering gold, up on the highest dome where the wind moved heavy and the Shams painted everything gold, sat a man.

Cross-legged. Bare-chested. Muscles tensed.

A single man.

A single Mithqal.

Beneath him was a silk rug that flapped madly like it wanted to fly off without him.

Azeem was his name... but that didn't matter.

What mattered was his face.

It was the face of wrath.

A wrath never seen on his face before now.

The kind that split mountains, cracked the sky, and burned oaths into the bones of cowards.

His breath came slow and steaming even in the heat, his soul raging.

While all the others below were busy yelling, guessing, and arguing about what had just played out in the projection, not getting it, simply unable to, Azeem easily figured it all out.

He knew everything.

He knew exactly why the scene had blacked out. Why their minds were "spared." Why the projection had cut off just when things got... real.

"Because it would've killed them."

He muttered to no one.

No—not no one.

A massive owl, all fluff and black, lay beside him.

Head tucked under wing, one eye open, watching silently.

The bird was still, quiet, likely feeling the same wrath, maybe even more.

"That bastard..."

Azeem curled his fists.

"That old bastard let him walk into IT... Let him carry ITS weight alone."

His rings were glowing now, as if matching his enraged state.

"You suffered because of me, didn't you, my Lord…?"

"..."

No answer came.

Yet, it didn't need to.

He already knew the answer.

Malik had learned something no native of Fam Iblis was supposed to know. He likely heard of names that shouldn't be spoken. Forces that shouldn't be known.

"Haaaa—!"

Azeem exhaled hard through his nose.

"The projection wasn't trying to hide the truth from you. It was trying to protect you. It blacked out the scene to stop half the damn planet from dropping dead."

His voice cracked with bitter laughter.

"Only one fool in the world could hear those names and not explode into smoke."

And that was Malik.

Even before becoming a Mithqal.

Even back then, when he was a Jinn, Malik had known about souls, drifting so far deep in death and madness that things most men couldn't look at without breaking were just... another day.

"Unbelievable."

He leaned back slightly, letting the rage pass.

Because, for all that fury in his blood, one thing softened the edge.

He looked over at the owl. Still teary-eyed and wrathful.

"...The Sultan did it."

His red eyes lost a bit of that glow. A bit of that hate.

"He really did it... Killed the one you hated most."

Azeem closed his eyes.

"My Lord ended him."

...

{Inside The Projection}

Malik walked in silence, heavy boots echoing.

The hallways of the palace stretched out before him, twisting and twisting, a maze of space that never seemed to end.

The palace servants stared and whispered as he went by, making it obvious that word of his and the Sultan's little private meeting had gotten out.

Of course, he ignored them all.

His path led him to the inner quarters, basically the inner palace, where all the wives and children of Al-Saif lived.

It was much the same: marble, big windows, metal trees, and steam, but a lot more gold.

He passed by room after room, going deeper into the palace, and then, finally, right outside one of the rooms' doors, he found a familiar little girl.

Huda.

She seemed to be waiting for him, somehow deciding that this was the perfect place to do that.

Ignoring the logic of that for a moment, when she saw him, her whole face lit up.

"You're back!"

She chirped, looking up too fast, almost cracking her neck in the process.

"I thought you were going to leave!"

Rushing into his embrace, she locked eyes with him, all smiles.

"Hehehe~! I caught you."

Malik looked down with nothing resembling happiness on his face.

"You thought right... I'm leaving."