Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 271: The Price Of Salvation

***

{Outside The Projection}

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...So that was it, huh?"

A young Magi was the first to speak.

"That was his goodbye."

His voice was hoarse. Barely above a whisper.

The crowd around him didn't join or respond right away.

They were still paused, still watching the similarly paused projection.

Peace or War.

Light or Dark.

Past or Future.

Love or Corruption.

Heaven or Hell.

Death or Life.

The hourglass.

The empty Well.

The silence and Malik's last look.

...The crowd couldn't help but be possessed.

This was Malik's final goodbye, and he...

He didn't even turn around; walking away from heaven like it was just another hallway.

It was expected, of course. It was Malik; he never wanted comfort, he never sought an easy path, no... he wanted control.

He always wanted control.

The silver-bearded man grunted from the back, arms folded.

"That's what this all was, wasn't it?"

He gestured vaguely at the memory, at the massive arc of a life they'd just witnessed.

"Guardianship. That was the first. Responsibility. When he still thought he could fix everything if he just tried hard enough... Second was Consequence. When he learned that trying doesn't mean succeeding. When failure hurts. Hurts everyone. Third—Sacrifice. His acceptance of it. Fourth was… Choice. The worst kind. Choosing the lesser evil. And now the fifth. Second Sun... The final lesson."

The scarred woman, his new companion in these discussions, nodded her head.

"He broke what shackled him down... regained control. Of his past. Of his grief... now his future. No longer reacting, he'll begin to lead of his own volition."

Her words were spot on, and the entire crowd realized it.

Every volume of his life was... a lesson.

And that life culminated to this.

The birth of the Second Sun.

His choice had brought his soul more time.

It had flipped the hourglass.

Until when, they weren't sure.

But that didn't matter to them.

Not now at least... for they were admiring it.

This journey they witnessed... it made them cry more times than they could count.

It made them feel emotions they never thought possible.

It pushed to the lowest of lows.

And yet, despite it all, they couldn't deny it.

More than anything. It was incredibly beautiful.

Painfully so, because now they were sure of the truth.

The one truth. For all untainted paths lead to it.

***

{Inside The Projection}

The journey back from the Well of Eternity had been… strange.

It was like the world bent a little more now when he walked.

Like the ground remembered who stepped on it.

And as his soul was patched up, he had an easy time getting back.

It was not to the point where he didn't need to put in any effort, but it was close.

Still, he didn't feel that much stronger. Rather, he didn't feel much of anything.

But everything else around him seemed weaker, smaller, beneath him in some way.

Malik didn't know exactly how or why, but his ego had restored itself and was boosted.

His self-worth ceased to decline entirely, replaced by his Path's Embodiment, the Sultan.

Letting go of his past seemed to do more than just fix up his soul, extend his lifespan, and increase his Divine Rank.

It moved him along the path of Sultan Al-Sahara, instilling into him the characteristics of one.

Of course, it hadn't changed his personality; that it could not do, but it certainly influenced it.

Up to what degree remained to be seen, but judging by his character, it would barely be noticeable, or at least that was what he believed.

Reaching the city, Malik entered through the north gate and was soon seen walking through the halls of the Palace of Crimson Frost.

On his way to the inner quarters, he passed many people, and they easily noticed his change.

First, it was the guards posted up near the outer walls, leaning on their spears, chatting with a bored look.

When he came in, one of them turned, blinked, then elbowed the other one.

He saw Malik, and they both went silent.

Stood up straighter.

Nodded once.

Then bowed.

Though not expecting that, Malik didn't break stride.

A tower had to smash into him for that to happen.

Inside, it only got worse.

When he passed through the training yard, with half a dozen younger knights sparring, laughing, and cursing, some of them mid-swing.

One dropped his sword and just… stared. Eyes wide.

He whispered something.

The others turned.

And all of them fell quiet.

One by one, they dropped into low bows.

Some even fell to a knee, a hand above their second heart.

Did he change that much?

...Malik couldn't say.

He kept walking.

Servants froze mid-step. Staff bowed against the walls. A noblewoman, probably a wife of an Al-Sayf, dropped her wine and didn't even notice, staring with wide eyes. Even an old gray-bearded man who appeared to be a general that ate Rocs for breakfast, stepped aside and saluted.

Malik didn't acknowledge a single one of them.

But he wasn't exactly immune.

Finally, something had made him stop.

Just before the inner quarters, he heard two voices—feminine, young, casual, probably maids.

They weren't whispering or hiding, just gossiping as women did.

"—Yeah, I heard she's gettin' married off. Some political crap."

"Wait, who?"

"Lady Huda."

That name shook his heart.

"No way. She's just a kid."

Malik didn't know why exactly, but he couldn't say anything.

"Kid or not, she's been thrown away. Some alliance with a neighboring noble family, the Ilyans or whatever. Classic move... but unexpected. I thought she was the chosen heir, but it looks like the Sultan found someone better."

He couldn't even look at them.

"...Poor girl."

But his shadow stretched a little longer than it should have.

"Yeah, well, better than bein' on the frontlines, I guess."

He turned.

"Hm... I don't know how a father does that to his sons."

And picked up the pace.

...

The door to Cyrus's office slammed open.

Malik walked in, face like stone, eyes locked on the man lounging behind a desk.

Cyrus was swirling his weird drink in his teacup, legs propped up, humming some old tune under his breath.

"Ahhh~! You're back! Good timing. I was just—"

"Is it true?"

Cyrus blinked and tilted his head.

"Hmm?"

"The marriage."

A beat.

"Ohhhhh. That."

Malik's eyes narrowed.

"It's you."

Cyrus smiled.

"Of course it's me! You think I'd let Cassim do anything unsupervised? I arranged it all myself... or, well, I supervised it~!"

Malik stepped closer.

"How can you do that to your OWN daughter?"

Cyrus looked confused for a moment, only to open his mouth wide in understanding.

"Ohhhhh, no, no, no, no... It happened, didn't it? The price of your... salvation. You've forgotten your little sister~!"