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Reincarnated as the Villainess's Unlucky Bodyguard-Chapter 168: The Ties That Bind
Something was shifting.
And whether she was ready or not, she was already caught in its pull.
The sensation lingered as Liria followed Enara toward the royal estate, her steps steady but her mind distant. She should have been focusing on what kind of meeting the queens had called them for, but the whisper from earlier still curled in the back of her thoughts like a phantom pressing against the edges of her consciousness.
This power is yours. You’ve merely forgotten.
It wasn’t just words. It was truth. She could feel it now, more than ever. Something inside her was awakening, unfurling like an ember caught in the wind, growing hotter, stronger.
The chair. The dummy. Those weren’t accidents.
She had willed them to move.
And the most dangerous part?
She didn’t regret it.
"Liria."
Enara’s voice cut through her thoughts.
Liria blinked, realizing they had already arrived at the estate’s private study. Two towering, darkwood doors stood before them, polished to a flawless shine. Enara’s hand rested on the brass handle, her midnight eyes watching Liria with an unreadable expression.
"You look like you’re about to have an epiphany," Enara muttered. "Or start a war."
Liria forced a smirk. "Why not both?"
Enara snorted but didn’t press further. She pushed open the doors, leading them inside.
The study was dimly lit, the scent of parchment and ink thick in the air. Queen Verida and Queen Nyssara stood near the large oak desk, their presence as commanding as ever.
Verida, with her deep red skin and golden eyes, radiated strength even in stillness. Nyssara, silver-haired and ethereal, had an expression that betrayed no emotions, though her lilac gaze flickered toward Liria as soon as she entered.
"Finally," Verida said, her voice sharp. "You took your time."
Enara rolled her eyes. "Blame her." She gestured at Liria. "She was busy having an existential crisis."
Liria shot her a glare.
Nyssara’s lips twitched. "Interesting. And what, exactly, were you contemplating, Liria?"
Liria hesitated for a fraction of a second—just enough for Nyssara to notice.
"Nothing important," Liria said quickly, shrugging. "Probably just side effects from nearly getting vaporized in a dungeon."
Nyssara hummed, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press.
Verida, however, had no patience for games. "Seraphis will be visiting again today," she said, her expression darkening.
Liria groaned. "Oh, wonderful. Just what I wanted—more unsolicited life advice."
Enara smirked. "You mean more evidence that she clearly wants you as her apprentice?"
"Not happening," Liria said flatly.
Verida folded her arms. "You might not have a choice this time. She’s not here just to pester you. She’s here because she sensed something."
Liria stiffened. "…What kind of something?"
Nyssara leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Power. A disturbance. She thinks it’s connected to you."
Liria’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Did she feel it? Did she sense what I did this morning?
"I’m sure it’s just residual magic from the dungeon," she said quickly, trying to sound casual.
Verida’s eyes narrowed. "Is it?"
Liria’s stomach twisted.
She wanted to lie. Wanted to brush it off and move on. But something in Verida’s gaze made her hesitate.
Verida was a war general. A demon queen. She could tell when someone was lying.
So instead, Liria said nothing.
That, apparently, was enough of an answer.
Nyssara’s expression remained unreadable, but Verida exhaled through her nose, clearly displeased.
"Just behave yourself," Verida muttered. "I don’t have the patience to deal with whatever chaos you bring today."
Liria forced a smirk. "No promises."
Seraphis arrived in the late afternoon, her presence as suffocating as ever.
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Liria had barely stepped outside before she spotted the principal of the academy, standing in the courtyard like she owned the place.
Seraphis was tall, her black robes edged with arcane sigils that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Her expression, as always, was impossible to read beneath the golden mask covering half her face.
"Liria," she said smoothly.
Liria crossed her arms. "Seraphis."
"I see you’re alive."
"Barely."
Seraphis tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over Liria like she was a specimen under examination. "And yet, something has changed."
Liria’s jaw tightened.
She knows.
"I’ve been resting," Liria said carefully. "That’s all."
Seraphis took a slow step forward. "Liria, you know as well as I do that you are more than what you pretend to be."
A cold shiver ran down Liria’s spine.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" she asked, voice steady.
Seraphis didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reached out, pressing two fingers to Liria’s forehead.
A sharp pulse of energy flared between them.
Liria felt it—the way Seraphis’s magic tried to read her, to see what lurked beneath the surface.
And for a brief, terrifying second, something inside Liria pushed back.
The air crackled.
Seraphis’s eyes widened slightly before she withdrew her hand, her expression unreadable.
Liria exhaled shakily, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Seraphis studied her. "Interesting."
Liria forced herself to smirk. "That’s one word for it."
Seraphis didn’t return the amusement. "You should be careful, Liria."
"Careful of what?"
Seraphis’s gaze darkened. "Of what you’re becoming."
Liria’s breath caught.
Seraphis turned, her robes swirling behind her. "I will be watching," she said, and then, without another word, she vanished.
The courtyard was silent.
Liria swallowed hard, her hands still curled into fists.
She had felt it. The pulse. The pushback.
That hadn’t been her normal magic.
That had been something else. Your journey continues at novelbuddy
And she had liked it.
She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. The whisper in her mind had grown louder now, wrapping around her thoughts like silk.
You are more than this.
You were never meant to be weak.
Liria’s lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
She should be afraid.
But instead, all she felt was want.
The shifting had begun.
And she was no longer resisting.
Liria stood in the courtyard long after Seraphis had disappeared, the echo of her words curling in the air like the last wisps of smoke after a fire.
Be careful of what you’re becoming.
She exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the tension coiled in her chest, but the whisper inside her had taken root.
She was not imagining this.
Something inside her was changing—unraveling, awakening, reshaping itself into something vast and unknown. And the worst part?
She didn’t want to stop it.
A sharp gust of wind rustled through the courtyard, carrying the scent of summer flowers and scorched stone. Liria flexed her fingers at her sides, still half-expecting to see something—anything—happen again. The way the air had crackled against Seraphis’s magic, the way she had felt something push back…
She wasn’t the same as before.
And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be.
A voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"There you are."
Liria turned. Enara stood at the entrance to the courtyard, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Her violet eyes flickered over Liria’s face, scanning, assessing.
"You’re acting strange."
Liria forced a smirk. "Stranger than usual?"
Enara didn’t return the humor.
Liria sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "I’m fine."
"You’re lying."
Liria stiffened slightly, but Enara wasn’t wrong.
The princess stepped closer, her gaze sharpening. "Seraphis looked concerned when she left. That’s never a good sign."
Liria hesitated. She could play it off, pretend like nothing was wrong, like she hadn’t felt something shift inside her during that brief contact with Seraphis.
Or…
"I don’t know what’s happening," she admitted, voice quieter than she intended. "But something is happening."
Enara’s eyes narrowed. "Explain."
Liria exhaled, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves. "I feel… different." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Stronger. Sharper. Like there’s something just beneath the surface, waiting to break free."
Enara tilted her head slightly, studying her. "Magic?"
Liria shook her head. "Not mine. Not the way I’ve always used it."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Liria’s surprise, Enara’s lips curled into something resembling amusement.
"So," she murmured, "you’re finally noticing it."
Liria blinked. "What?"
Enara folded her arms. "I’ve felt it for a while now. There’s something else inside you. Something that doesn’t belong to the magic you’ve been using all this time."
Liria’s breath caught. "And you didn’t think to mention it?"
Enara shrugged. "I figured you’d either figure it out on your own or get yourself killed before it became relevant."
Liria groaned. "Inspiring."
Enara’s smirk faded slightly. "What did Seraphis say?"
Liria hesitated.
"She knows something’s different," she admitted. "But I don’t think even she understands what’s happening to me."
Enara’s gaze darkened. "That’s not reassuring."
"Tell me about it."
They stood in silence, the weight of the moment pressing down between them.
Then Enara spoke again, voice lower. "Do you want this?"
Liria didn’t answer immediately.
That was the real question, wasn’t it?
She should want to fight it. She should be terrified, clawing for control, demanding answers.
But instead…
You were never meant to be weak.
The whisper had been there for weeks now, faint and elusive, like a shadow lingering at the edge of her consciousness. It was stronger now, wrapping around her thoughts, coiling through her blood.
And deep down, beneath all the questions and uncertainty—beneath even the fear—there was something else.
A quiet, undeniable want.
Liria met Enara’s gaze.
"I don’t know," she admitted.
Enara exhaled sharply, but she didn’t argue.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly. "Then we should find out."
Liria frowned. "Find out what?"
"How far this goes," Enara said simply. "If it’s changing you, then ignoring it won’t help. We need to know what you’re capable of now."
Liria’s pulse quickened.
She should refuse. She should be cautious.
But instead, she found herself saying:
"Alright."
The training grounds were empty by the time they arrived, the evening sky casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. Liria stood in the center, the weight of anticipation curling in her stomach.
Enara took a step back, watching her carefully.
"No holding back," she instructed.
Liria scoffed. "You say that like I ever do."
Enara smirked but said nothing. Instead, she lifted a hand, and a sharp pulse of violet magic crackled in the air.
Liria barely had time to register the attack before Enara sent a bolt of energy flying toward her.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.
She dodged. Not with speed—not with a sudden burst of agility—but with something else.
The world felt slow, the magic stretching toward her as if through water. And in that frozen moment, she didn’t step aside.
She willed herself somewhere else.
The next second, she was behind Enara.
Enara’s eyes widened.
"What—"
Liria struck.
Not with her sword, not with magic. Just a flicker of force—raw, unseen power.
Enara staggered back, caught off guard.
Liria’s heart pounded.
She hadn’t used a spell.
She hadn’t moved.
She had just… willed it.
Enara steadied herself, violet eyes gleaming with something between shock and intrigue.
"Well," she murmured, rolling her shoulders. "That was interesting."
Liria barely heard her.
Her blood thrummed. Her skin buzzed with energy.
It felt… good.
Too good.
And for the first time, she didn’t want to stop.
Enara straightened, watching her closely. "Again."
Liria nodded, a slow grin creeping onto her lips.
She could feel it now, stronger than ever.
The shift. The unraveling.
And she was done running from it.