I'm the Villain, But the Heroines Keep Choosing Me-Chapter 103: Washing Off Blood

The walk back to the Imperial Capital was silent.

Imperial soldiers formed a protective perimeter around their group, but everyone kept glancing at Damien. Not with fear exactly – more like they were reassessing what they thought they knew about the minor noble from a regional kingdom.

The man who’d single-handedly slaughtered over a hundred demons in one night.

Seria walked on Damien’s left, her mind clearly working through what she’d witnessed. The sheer number of corpses, the variety of killing methods, the evidence of sustained combat over hours. Her hand occasionally twitched toward him, then pulled back, as if she wanted to check if he was real.

Elara occupied his right side, her healer’s senses extended. She’d already examined him for injuries – found dozens of cuts and bruises, all relatively minor considering what he’d faced – and was monitoring him with clear concern.

Neither had spoken since they’d left the forest.

Damien didn’t blame them. He wasn’t sure what he’d say in their position either.

They reached the residence as morning fully established itself. The servants took one look at Damien’s blood-soaked appearance and immediately began preparing hot water without needing to be asked.

"The large bath," Seria told them. "And privacy – no interruptions unless the palace is on fire."

The staff scattered to comply.

Damien stood in the entrance hall, demon ichor dripping onto expensive tile, and felt the enormity of the night catching up with him. His body ached. His mind felt scraped raw. The shadow comprehension gains had been significant, but they’d come at a cost he was only beginning to understand.

"Come on," Elara said gently, taking his arm. "Let’s get you clean."

They went upstairs to the bathing room – a luxury that still felt excessive compared to their kingdom’s standards. The tub was large enough for six people easily, already filling with steaming water that servants had scented with something herbal and soothing.

Seria began removing Damien’s ruined clothing while Elara prepared clean towels. Neither spoke, both moving with practiced coordination.

When Damien finally sank into the hot water, he felt muscles he didn’t know were tense begin to relax. The demon blood dissolved away, turning the water dark before Elara refreshed it with clean flow from the magical pipes.

Seria and Elara stripped and joined him, settling on either side like they had in bed countless times before. But this time there was no playfulness, no teasing. Just quiet presence and concern.

The silence stretched for several minutes.

Damien closed his eyes, letting the heat work through his battered body, trying to find words for what he needed to tell them.

"You left a note," Seria said finally. Her voice was carefully neutral. "Said you followed a lead. That turned out to be quite the lead."

"It was a trap," Damien said. Simple truth, if incomplete. "I saw something – a trail of darkness only I could perceive. Led me into the forest. Should have woken you both, should have brought backup, should have done a dozen things differently."

"But you didn’t," Elara observed.

"No. I thought..." He trailed off, then decided on honesty. "I thought it was connected to the conspiracy. Something only I could investigate because of my shadow magic. I was wrong."

"A hundred demons isn’t just a trap," Seria said. "A coordinated force meant to kill you specifically."

"Yes."

"Who would send that many demons just to eliminate one person?" Elara’s voice carried confusion and fear in equal measure. "Even if they know you’re dangerous, that’s an excessive commitment of resources."

This was the difficult part. The part where he had to tell them truth while omitting the truths that would raise impossible questions.

"I met someone," Damien said quietly. "In the forest, before the demons attacked. An Archdemon."

Both women went rigid.

"An Archdemon," Seria repeated. "As in – "

"Higher-tier demon. Significantly more powerful than the General we fought. Intelligent, articulate, and completely in control of the situation." Damien opened his eyes, looking at the bathwater rather than at them. "It wanted to talk."

"About what?" Elara’s voice was tight. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"About me. My fate. My purpose." He chose his words carefully. "It told me I’m destined to die. That there’s a specific timeline for my execution, and unless I grow significantly stronger, that fate is inevitable."

"Execution by who?" Seria demanded, though her tone suggested she already knew.

"Aldric." Damien finally looked at them. "The Archdemon said he’s becoming radicalized, training obsessively, developing both his divine and battle magic. It said that by the time he comes for me, he’ll be too powerful to defeat unless I’ve grown enough to match him."

"And you believe a demon?" Elara’s skepticism was clear.

"I believe it had no reason to lie. It was so much stronger than me that deception was unnecessary." Damien’s voice was flat. "If it wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Instead, it gave me information and a trial. The hundred demons were a test – to see if I could survive, if I could grow under pressure, if I was worth the investment."

"Investment in what?" Seria asked.

"In becoming strong enough to kill the hero." The words hung in the steaming air. "The Archdemon was very clear – Aldric is the real threat. While we’re investigating conspiracies and helping the Empire, he’s training to destroy me. And if I don’t become powerful enough to stop him, I die."

Elara moved closer, her hand finding his beneath the water. "Damien, this could be manipulation. Making you afraid so you’ll make reckless choices, push your corruption higher, lose yourself trying to gain power quickly."

"I know," he said. "I considered that. But the Archdemon also told me something else." He squeezed her hand. "It said my greatest enemy isn’t the demons or the corruption or even the hero. It’s time. That I’m running out of it, and every moment spent on anything other than growing stronger is a moment wasted."

"That’s definitely manipulation," Seria said firmly. "Classic pressure tactics – create artificial urgency, force bad decisions, exploit fear of death."

"Maybe. But what if it’s true?" Damien looked between them. "What if Aldric really is training to kill me? What if he’s abandoned his heroic principles and become something dangerous? We saw him starting to radicalize before we left our kingdom. Who knows how far he’s gone since then?"

"Then we deal with him together," Elara said. "As a unit. Not with you pushing yourself to dangerous extremes trying to match him alone."

"The Archdemon said I couldn’t beat him with you two as support. That I’d need to be strong enough to face him individually, because he’ll come for me specifically." Damien’s voice carried frustration and fear in equal measure. "It said the anchor bonds are wonderful for maintaining my humanity, but they won’t make me powerful enough to survive what’s coming."

"So what are you saying?" Seria’s tactical mind was already working ahead. "That you need to train more aggressively? Take more risks? Push your shadow magic further?"

"I’m saying I need to grow stronger, and I need to do it faster than I’ve been comfortable with." He met both their eyes. "Last night proved I can handle more than I thought. The shadow comprehension system – " He caught himself before mentioning the System itself. " – the way my abilities develop through combat, it’s exponential. Each demon I killed made me stronger, which made killing the next one easier. By the end, I was using techniques I didn’t know existed."

"You also looked half-dead when we found you," Elara pointed out. "Covered in blood, eyes distant, barely recognizing us at first. That’s not sustainable growth – that’s burning yourself out."

"But I survived. And I’m significantly more capable now than I was yesterday." He could feel the truth of it in his body. The shadows responded to his thoughts with new precision, new possibility. "If I can have more experiences like that, controlled ones where I’m not caught off-guard, I can reach the level I need to."

"Controlled experiences where you fight armies of demons alone?" Seria’s voice was incredulous. "That’s your plan?"

"No. My plan is to keep investigating the conspiracy, helping the Empire, doing what the Emperor asked. But when combat opportunities arise, I don’t hold back. I push myself, test my limits, grow through pressure." He looked at them seriously. "And I need you both to let me. To trust that I know what I can handle."

"That’s asking a lot," Elara said quietly. "Watching you nearly die repeatedly while we stand back and let it happen."

"I know. But if the alternative is me dying because I wasn’t strong enough when it mattered – " He left the sentence unfinished.

They sat in silence, the bathwater’s heat slowly fading as they processed.