I Try To Enjoy My Life But This Woman Keep Calling Me Villain-Chapter 227: Aftermath

|3rd POV|

The world trembled in the wake of the battle.

Across kingdoms and empires, scholars and priests scrambled to uncover anything—any record, any ancient scripture—that spoke of the Goddess Tiamat. Who was she? Where had she come from? Was she an imposter? A forgotten deity?

Devout followers of the gods fell to their knees in temples, cathedrals, and sacred shrines, seeking answers. Some prayed for guidance. Others, for permission to declare a holy war against this so-called goddess.

Then the divine answered.

To their horror, the gods did not refute her existence.

Instead, they confirmed it.

Tiamat was real. A true goddess. Not just any goddess, but one older and more powerful than any of them.

The realization shattered the faith of many. If she was older, then that meant she existed before even the gods they worshipped. If she was stronger, then what did that mean for the balance of the divine?

And worse still—it meant Gwyndolin had spoken the truth.

Tiamat was a Primordial Goddess, a being that had existed since the dawn of creation itself.

Yet with that truth came only more questions.

Where had she been all this time? What was she the goddess of? What were her intentions? And perhaps most importantly—who was Gwyndolin Cunningham truly?

For a mortal to summon a Primordial should have been impossible. The sheer power required would have obliterated lesser beings. Yet, he had done it. He had called upon a force older than the heavens themselves, and lived.

They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know he had used a Summoning Scroll from his guild’s vault. A scroll he himself can craft, a feat requiring not too many rare ingredients and materials.

Had they known, they would have screamed in frustration or even declared him a liar or, worse, heathen.

Because what he had done should not have been possible.

But it wasn’t just the churches and scholars scrambling for answers. The Black Rose—an organization that had been plotting in the shadows for decades—was in chaos.

Its leader sat in his grand chamber, his face impassive as he watched the magical recordings replaying before him. The battle in Cunningham County had thrown all his plans into ruin.

The scheme he had cultivated for years—wasted.

He had thought that killing Gwyndolin, or at least crippling him, would accelerate his next step. He even gave one of the best summoning crystals for this to happen. Instead, it had backfired spectacularly.

Now, all his efforts had come undone.

"What should we do now, my lord?"

The voice came from the left. A woman. She flinched the moment his eyes met hers, realizing her mistake in speaking too soon.

For a long moment, he said nothing, simply letting the weight of his silence punish her. Then, he took a slow breath and leaned back into his throne.

"We retreat," he said finally.

Murmurs rippled through the chamber. He ignored them.

"The Gipan Kingdom and its neighbors are a lost cause. We waste no more resources there."

One of his subordinates stepped forward—a young boy, golden-haired and red-eyed, his gaze sharp with calculating intelligence.

"Where do we go, then?" the boy asked.

The leader steepled his fingers.

"Further south... or the Eastern Continent. I want your thoughts."

The boy thought for a moment before nodding. "The east."

A few heads turned toward him. He continued, "If we go south, we’ll run into the Cunninghams again. We need time. Distance. The Eastern Continent gives us that."

A woman to the side nodded. "I agree, my lord. My merchant company can serve as our foundation. The continent has the resources we need; if we must, we can even perform the ritual there instead. The Eastern Continent has the largest population of the five continents, after all."

The boy frowned. "But their people aren’t compatible with our requirements. We’d need far more sacrifices than we would here."

"But," the woman countered, "that can be compensated for with sheer numbers. We can even instigate wars between the kingdoms and states there, turning their people into sacrifices."

The two bickered for a few moments.

Then the leader stood.

"Enough. I have decided."

The room fell silent.

"We go east," he declared. "We will rebuild. We will be careful. The people there are easier to manipulate... but also quicker to betray. We tread lightly."

His gaze turned to the woman.

"Spider."

She straightened immediately.

"You will lay the foundation. No mistakes. No trails. No loose ends."

A pause.

"We cannot afford another failure. Our Lord and Savior has waited long enough."

Spider bowed deeply. "I will prepare for your arrival, my lord."

"Good."

He turned his gaze to the rest of the room.

"As for all of you—Underground Protocol. We leave nothing behind. No traces. No leads."

A unified response followed.

"Yes, my lord!"

~~| Line Break |~~

The Black Rose was not the only force on the move.

Far from it.

As they vanished into the shadows, others moved into the light—among them, the Magic Tower of the Southern Continent.

A bastion of scholars, mages, and nobility. A place where only the elite of the Southern Continent were allowed to study.

Unlike the zealots, unlike the power-hungry, they did not come to worship or scheme.

They came for knowledge.

The magic that Gwyndolin had displayed in battle—the sheer scale and complexity of it—had shaken the Tower to its core. Even the Tower Master himself had taken an interest.

Which was why, at this very moment, Cassandra Antoinette Gipan—youngest princess of the Gipan Kingdom—stood nervously in his office.

The Tower Master studied her, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he spoke.

"Let’s cut to the chase, dear."

Cassandra stiffened.

"I want to know," he said, leaning forward, "what kind of person Gwyndolin Cunningham truly is."

Cassandra swallowed hard.

She knew she had two choices.

She could lie—tell him that her family was close to the Cunninghams. That she could be useful to him.

Or she could tell the truth—that her family had no good ties with Southern nobles, least of all the Cunninghams.

A lie could open doors for her. But if it were discovered, it would be disastrous.

A truth, though...

She inhaled deeply and chose her path.

"Our family does not have a good relationship with the Cunningham family," she admitted. "Nor with most Southern nobles."

She hesitated—then added a hook.

"But... my father could arrange an introduction. The Cunninghams are too honorable to refuse a direct request from the king."

The Tower Master studied her for a long moment.

Then, he smiled.

"Really?"

She had him.

And just like that, the first piece of the game was set in motion.