Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 64: A Parasite [1]

A parasite, huh? The lowest rank of demon. How disgusting.

To think something like that pushed me this far... even if I’m not in peak condition.

Velra’s lips curled in contempt, but her thoughts were far from calm.

There were many types of demons in the demon realm.

Each born from a different sin. A different hunger.

Some were born of wrath—towering beasts that roared with fire and shattered mountains beneath their fists. Brutes, yes, but terrifying in their raw power.

Others were born of lust, able to beguile even the wisest souls—beautiful, cunning, and venomous, like flowers blooming with poison.

Then there were the schemers, the shadowkind—demons of envy and deceit. They didn’t need claws. Their words did the cutting.

But parasites?

They were the bottom feeders. Born not of a noble sin, but of desperation. Scavengers that couldn’t survive on their own. Weak. Insignificant.

And yet...

This one stood before her now, untouched, unfazed, unflinching.

A parasite with confidence.

That was the most dangerous kind.

"Do you know what your kind is called in the inner circles of demon nobility?" Velra asked, voice low. "We don’t even call you demons. Just... maggots."

The masked man tilted his head, unmoved. "That’s fair. But even a maggot, if it feeds long enough... becomes a fly."

He stepped forward, slowly, not threatening—just unbothered.

"You’re right. I’m the lowest of the low. But that just means I had to be smarter than the ones who were born stronger."

Velra’s flame flickered at her palm. Her instincts screamed at her to finish him now.

And yet... part of her hesitated.

No... not out of fear.

Out of curiosity.

"You speak like you’ve outlived many."

"I have," he said simply. "I’ve seen wrath demons ripped apart by their own blind rage. I’ve watched lust demons choke on the envy of their own kin. Pride, greed, sloth... all of them think they’re untouchable—until something smaller crawls inside and takes everything."

"You’re saying you infect other demons too?" she asked, disbelieving.

He chuckled, the sound low and almost warm.

"Everything has a weakness," he said. "Even gods bleed if you know where to stick the needle."

He didn’t say that he did it but he didn’t deny it either. It’s hard to gauge him.

"Anyway now matter how lowly I’m, I am still a demon. It’s nice to see a fellow demon in foreign lands."

"....."

Of course, Velra didn’t responded to him.

"This is my newest host yet. Name is Julies Evans. Lowly noble but noble nothenless."

"A parasite... speaking with such pride," Velra muttered, more to herself than him.

It should have disgusted her.

And yet, there was something chilling in how easily he wore his filth. How casually he acknowledged his place at the bottom, like it was part of some grand design only he understood.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t beg.

He stood there like he belonged in the same room as her.

Even as her flames crackled faintly at her fingertips.

He went on, as if they were catching up like old acquaintances.

"This body—Julies Evans. Not much, I know. A third-born noble, barely clinging to land rights and family name. But his body was strong enough. His will? Not so much."

He tapped the golden mask with a single finger, almost fondly.

"Still... he gave me some decent memories. A flair for swordplay. A good ear for music. Oh, and a charming smile that works wonders in human circles."

Velra’s gaze darkened.

"You killed him?"

"No," he said with a small shake of the head. "He’s still in here... somewhere."

She stared.

"You’re lying."

"I’m not," he said plainly. "Parasites don’t always kill their hosts. That’s a misconception. Sometimes it’s better to keep them alive—let them scream inside while you walk around in their skin. It’s cleaner."

He said it with the same tone someone might use to explain how to pour tea without spilling.

Velra’s stomach turned.

Not from fear.

From fury.

"You really are a maggot," she hissed.

"I know," he said, smiling under the mask. "But maggots are useful. They find the rot before anyone else does."

She hated how calm he was.

How logical.

How unbothered.

He wasn’t strong—not in the way wrath demons were. He didn’t pulse with magic or tower with presence.

But his kind didn’t need those things.

Parasites were patient.

They watched. Waited. Crawled into cracks and grew like infection.

"It seems you have a lot of questions for me," he said casually, the gold of his mask catching the faint moonlight. "How about this? We each get to ask one question—no lies. Fair deal?"

"Arrogant," Velra scoffed. "I see no reason to entertain your proposal."

"Not even for a new hideout? A steady supply of fresh blood? Or... information about this human world you seem so unfamiliar with?"

Her eyes narrowed.

That struck a nerve.

A new hideout. She needed one, badly. After attacking a warrior’s descendant, it was only a matter of time before the humans organized a search party. Staying in her current place would be suicide.

And the blood.

She needed more—much more—if she was going to restore her strength and take revenge on Nolkk. Up until now, she’d been relying on her bats to gather blood from wild animals, or occasionally from wandering livestock. It had been enough to stay alive, but never enough to regain what she’d lost.

The offer was tempting.

A trap, perhaps.

But her current situation couldn’t get much worse.

Better to take a risk with a demon than to die quietly at the hands of humans.

"...Interesting," she murmured. "Very well. I accept. But I will ask the first question."

"Of course," he said smoothly, as if he’d expected nothing less.

Velra stepped closer, her voice dropping low.

"Why did you break the seal and awaken me from my slumber?"

The masked man tilted his head slightly.

"Did I do that?" he replied, tone mockingly thoughtful. "Pretty sure it was our dear silver-haired princess who woke you."

He let out a dramatic sigh, one meant to be heard. Theatrical.

It made her want to punch the mask right off his face.

"It must be something to do with bloodlines. The princess has an uncanny ability to detect the scent of demons. Ah! Of course, I didn’t realize it myself."

Velra’s gaze sharpened. "You let her despite knowing that?"

"I didn’t stop her," he admitted. "Why would I? I was curious to see what was inside that tomb."

He spread his arms slightly, as if presenting her like some grand unveiling.

"And now here you are. A relic of the old world, covered in dust and fury."

"Hmph." Velra clicked her tongue but didn’t argue.

Her turn was over.

"Now it’s my turn to ask a question."

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