Taming The Villainesses-Chapter 361: Main Character (6)

I believe there are two types of people.

First, those who carefully plan before doing anything.

Second, those who adapt to the situation as it unfolds.

In my view, I was closer to the first. Whatever I did, I always laid out plans, crafted strategies, reviewed everything thoroughly, and only then moved forward, one step at a time, tapping the stone bridge as I crossed it.

Maybe that was because I’d faced too many situations where failure simply wasn’t allowed—an obsession with always making the best choice had shaped me that way.

Of course, there were plenty of times when I had to abandon those carefully drawn plans and scrap everything on the spot.

Like now.

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“Ever heard of the dark swordsman Andromalli? I’m pretty famous. Believe it or not, I’m a top-class mercenary.”

Human affairs—especially events involving crowds—always come with unpredictable variables and errors.

This tournament itself had been a variable, born from Ayra’s whims. Nothing that happened here, no matter how bizarre, should come as a surprise.

“......”

Still, this situation was serious.

Was it because the tournament had drawn participants from all walks of life under a meritocratic banner? I hadn’t expected someone this uncontrollable to have made it to the finals.

“So anyway, I heard the target I’m after is competing in this tournament. Supposedly skilled enough to reach the finals. They also said he has a hand-shaped burn mark on his ankle.”

The man kept rambling on about things I hadn’t even asked.

“Dark swordsman Andromalli.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Heard of me somewhere, haven’t you? More importantly, do you have a handprint-shaped mark on your ankle? Show me.”

He asked confidently, like he was sure of it. But up until today, I’d never even heard his name. He carried himself with an odd hunger for recognition—like a narcissist showing off his fame.

The only thing I could determine in this moment was that this man was a psychopath—someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill people or ruin an entire tournament just for personal interest or amusement.

Damn it.

Five finalists were already dead?

What kind of fucked-up mess is this?

There was no recovering now. This tournament was ruined.

And just yesterday, how many people had worked so hard to make this absurd, fairytale-like event happen?

The laborers who built the coliseum. The imp friends who reviewed every contestant’s application, sacrificing sleep. Me, tearing my hair out trying to come up with compelling event content.

All of that—turning to ash.

And if word got out that this long-promoted event had turned into a bloodbath, the 100,000 spectators packed into the coliseum could explode into violent chaos.

Worse, if Ayra—who had placed uncharacteristically high hopes on this tournament—found out, it was easy to imagine what could happen.

Those deemed responsible for letting this disaster happen might be purged. That backlash could ripple outward, triggering the very revolution we’d tried so hard to prevent. The whole nation could burn.

If it came to that, then all the efforts of those who helped me—Elga, Mirnarmee, Stella—would have been in vain.

That thought made it impossible to forgive this man trampling all over my life and peace. This bastard had to fall. Here and now.

“Don’t wanna show me your ankle? Fine. I’ll just kill you and check for myself.”

Swish.

I stretched my hand toward the bastard who kept flapping his mouth and instantly invoked the mana I’d been storing.

7th-tier.

“Abyss of the Underworld.”

KUUUUUNG—!

“Guh—!?”

Blood vessels bulged in the confident dark swordsman’s face. It was obvious how much force was crushing him.

KUUNG.

Still seated on the bench, Andromalli was slammed flat to the floor. Blood burst from both nostrils in two red jets.

“Uughghh, I can’t move a finger. What the hell is this...?”

He seemed completely unable to grasp the situation. He was now being pressed under the merciless gravitational force of a 7th-tier grand spell—Abyss of the Underworld.

“GRAAAAH—!”

Crunch—snap—CRACK.

The sounds of benches, stone, and bones being crushed echoed hideously. It must’ve felt like being pressed beneath the fingers of a giant.

Unlike the spells I normally used for capture, this one was an unforgiving kill spell. But with a dangerous criminal like this on the loose, I had no choice but to use overwhelming force.

“Go rot in hell.”

As I gave him that light curse and increased the pressure—

“...Hell? We already came from there. Do you even understand the depths of that name?”

CHRRRRR...

Chains coiled around his arm began to unravel. Then something sharp flew toward the back of my neck.

SHWEEEEEK—!

━GrrRRRrgh...!

A loud growl, and something wrapped around me.

Turning my head, I saw a hook- or question mark-shaped blade embedded in my thick mana shield.

A surprise attack?

Now I understood how the other winners had been taken down. Dodging a strike like that from the blind spot would’ve been near impossible.

Swish swish.

Paper-spider Bael had sprung out of nowhere and climbed onto my shoulder. Without her, I might have taken some serious damage.

━Grrr...!

Bael snuggled into my chest, growling as if scolding me. I nodded.

“Yeah, I let my guard down.”

I hadn’t expected him to counterattack while being crushed by a 7th-tier spell.

That final attack had been like a honeybee’s dying sting. The swordsman’s body now lay unmoving, incapable of speaking or moving. His neck must’ve been broken—his consciousness shattered.

Cardiac arrest. Total system shutdown.

The shock of having killed someone surged through my chest like wildfire. A psychological sprinkler called He deserved it anyway sprayed over it in defense.

If it weren’t for Bael absorbing my emotions—and 《Calm Thinking》 keeping me steady—I’d be shaken.

“But wait... didn’t he say we?”

Swish.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned.

A pair of wide, shocked blue eyes stared back at me.

“W-what is this?!”

The girl’s mouth gaped open as she screamed at the gruesome scene in the waiting room.

Wasn’t she Aslan of Orléans? I remembered she was the Group H finalist, meaning her match had ended and she’d won within that short time.

Problem was, she looked at me and began to growl like a furious leopard.

“You—what the hell did you do!?”

Her face reminded me so much of Elga that I felt both fondness and dread. If she was anything like Elga, I could guess how she’d react to this scene.

“You bastard, to do something like this! I knew from the moment you hid your face behind a mask that you were a ruthless villain!”

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. I didn’t do this.”

“Then who else is even here, huh?! Coward! You couldn’t fight fair and square so you stooped to cheap ambushes!”

SWOOSH.

The angry girl drew a long lance from thin air. A sleek, pointed weapon—more than fitting to be called a knight’s lance for horseback charges.

“I am Aslan, proxy lord ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) of Orléans!!! I will bring judgment upon you!!!”

POP—!

With just a leap, Aslan rushed me with the speed of an armored knight charging downhill on horseback.

BOOOOM—!

This must be how it feels when a missile flies straight at you. Thankfully, Bael’s reaction speed matched it.

—Mana Shield!

Ten layers of shields unfolded. Aslan’s charge was fierce, but she stopped after bursting through about seven layers—unable to break the last three.

At the same time, I exhaled in relief.

“Phew.”

Earlier, that crazy nymph had shredded my mana shield and made me wonder if my defenses were trash—but no, it was just that guy who was weird. My defense was still solid.

“Coward! All these cheap tricks!”

As Aslan raged, I quickly stepped on her shadow.

6th-tier.

—Shadow Pinning.

A technique I’d modified from the Draco family’s shadow-binding spell. As long as I stood on her shadow, she couldn’t move.

“Wha—?! I—I can’t move?!”

To the stunned girl, I said,

“You’re Aslan, right? Listen to me. There’s an explanation for all this.”

“Don’t make me laugh! You’ve got me pinned! What—what are you going to do to me?!”

“Aslan, if I wanted to kill you, I easily could. But I’m not going to. Because I’m not the psychotic maniac you think I am.”

“...Psycho what?”

Right. No way she’d know the word psychopath.

“Anyway, this wasn’t me. That guy over there—Group A’s winner, dark swordsman Andromalli—he ambushed and killed them. I just stopped him. Believe it or not, that’s the truth.”

Just as I finished explaining—

I saw three or four guards sprinting down the hallway toward us.

━There’s a huge commotion over there!

━No word from the victors’ waiting room team either!

━Did a fight break out or something?

Staff reacting to the disturbance?

My eyes turned toward the bodies on the floor.

A brutal bloodbath. A mysterious masked contestant standing alone. A noble lady knight being held prisoner.

It wasn’t hard to guess what the guards would think at first glance.

I’d be the first to get blamed. If the roles were reversed, I’d think the same.

Goddamn it.

The situation was already beyond the point where plans meant anything.

━Hiooong...!

Yeah, I know. Now’s not the time to freeze.

Andromalli had said “we,” like he had comrades. If there were more terrorists hiding somewhere in this tournament—or in the city of Sandora—they’d likely target this coliseum packed with people.

“Phew...”

Thanks to Calm Thinking, my mind began to cool.

The truth was, I already knew.

I’d been greedy, but this tournament had to be stopped.

Evacuating the people—protecting everyone’s safety—was now the only right course of action.

In my mind, I saw Elga. Her unborn child. Stella. Marmar. My imp friends. Mirna and Narmee weren’t here—thankfully.

But Ayra would never allow the tournament to be canceled. She’d definitely ignore any suggestion to stop the event.

A normal method wouldn’t work.

A normal method...

Whether it was luck or misfortune, a single method clearly surfaced in my mind.

━Hiooong...

“It’s fine. I’ve done this plenty. My Actor skill is already at level 10.”

“What are you mumbling about? And let me go already!”

While Aslan flailed in panic, the guards arrived. Seeing the carnage, they drew their weapons and trained them on me.

━What the hell happened here?!

━Surrender immediately!

Voices. Yells. Glares like spilled paint across a canvas. The whole thing felt unreal.

Just a moment ago, I was planning to win the finals and fight Ayra in the final round.

I didn’t know how things got like this, but the plans I’d made were now ruined by someone else’s malevolent scheme. All I had left was a cold, calculated fury.

I didn’t know what their goal was, but I’d make sure to destroy it. If I wanted to evacuate everyone from this coliseum, what did I need to do?

I already knew the answer.

Swish.

I grabbed the back of Aslan’s neck and pulled her in front of me like a shield. The tension in the guards’ faces was instantly visible.

━W-what do you think you’re doing?!

━Taking a hostage?!

As they panicked, I slowly opened my mouth.

“You know, I’ve always hated this world.”

Primitive. Barbaric. Full of fools who set themselves on fire and jump into oil.

I’d wished for everything to just burn and end.

I drew that emotion to a boil and, with sincere conviction, confessed:

“I am the Demon King. Apex of magic. End of an era. Harbinger of the world’s doom. From now on, all that follows is judgment. Take it as you will.”