I'm the Villain, But the Heroines Keep Choosing Me-Chapter 122: Parallels

Damien eliminated the eighth target two nights after his dinner with Queen Lyristae – a Church administrator who’d been blocking divine investigations into demonic activity. Made it look like he’d fallen down the cathedral stairs after evening services, tragic accident, very unfortunate.

The kills were becoming routine. Mechanical. Just another task to complete before returning to his anchors and pretending he was still the person they thought he was.

He was walking through the palace district afterward, shadows wrapped around him for concealment, when he sensed another presence moving through the darkness.

Not demonic or hostile. Just... familiar.

Queen Lyristae materialized from the shadows ahead of him, dressed in dark traveling clothes similar to his own, her face partially concealed by a hood.

"Lord Valcrest," she greeted, her voice carrying amusement. "Out for a late-night walk?"

"Your Majesty. I could ask you the same question."

"I could tell you I’m returning from diplomatic meetings. You could tell me you’re investigating suspicious activity. We’d both be lying." She fell into step beside him, moving through the darkness with the same effortless grace he’d developed. "Or we could acknowledge that we’re both doing things we’d rather not discuss and simply enjoy the company."

"That’s a really casual approach to operational security."

"Is it? I already know you’re eliminating imperial traitors for the Emperor. You already know I have shadow magic I’m hiding from my court. What secrets are left that casual conversation could compromise?" Her logic was sound, if unsettling.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, two shadow wielders moving through the sleeping city like ghosts.

"Does it bother you?" Lyristae asked eventually. "The killing?"

Damien considered lying, decided against it. She’d see through it anyway. "It should. But it doesn’t. The corruption makes it feel... like duty. Just removing obstacles. No moral weight, no guilt, just efficient problem-solving."

"I understand that." Her voice was quiet. "The shadows make everything easier. Clearer. You stop questioning whether something is right and just assess whether it’s effective."

"Exactly. Which should terrify me, but instead it just feels... normal."

"That’s the dangerous part. Not that the corruption exists, but that it makes itself feel natural. Makes you forget what you were before it took hold." She paused at a fountain, watching moonlight play across the water. "I’ve been managing shadow magic for six years. Fighting every day to remember what it feels like to care about things the way normal people do. To feel guilt, empathy, moral complexity instead of just cold calculation."

"How do you do it?" Damien asked. "Maintain that humanity while wielding darkness?"

"Anchors. Not romantic ones like you have. Moments, people, experiences that remind me why I’m fighting to stay human rather than letting the shadows consume everything." She looked at him directly. "What are yours? Beyond your companions, I mean. What keeps you grounded?"

Damien thought about it. "The memory of who I was before. The person who valued life, who felt guilt about violence, who operated from moral principles rather than tactical expediency. I try to remember him, even though he feels increasingly distant."

"And does it work?"

"Sometimes. When my companions are close, when the anchors are strong, I can almost feel like that person again. But alone – " He gestured to the empty streets. " – alone, the corruption makes everything simple. Removes the complexity that makes us human."

"Which is why operating alone is dangerous," Lyristae observed. "Every solo mission, every isolated decision, every moment without an anchors pulls you further toward the darkness."

"I know. But some things can’t be done with company. Some choices have to be made alone."

"Do they? Or do we just tell ourselves that because the corruption makes isolation feel safer than vulnerability?" She moved closer, and Damien felt that same pulse of recognition he’d experienced at dinner. "I spent four years convinced I had to manage my shadow magic alone. That sharing the burden would make me weak, would compromise my effectiveness, would reveal vulnerability that enemies could exploit."

"What changed?"

"I watched someone I cared about die because I’d isolated myself too thoroughly to notice they needed help." Her voice carried old pain. "A court advisor, actually. Good man, loyal, competent. Demon collaborators targeted him, and I didn’t see it coming because I was so focused on managing my own darkness that I’d stopped really seeing the people around me."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. I learned from it. Isolation isn’t strength – it’s just slow suicide wearing a strategic mask." She met his eyes. "Which is why I’m telling you this. Why I revealed my shadow magic. Why I’m building connection despite the tactical risks. Because managing darkness alone guarantees eventual failure."

Damien absorbed that, feeling the truth of it even through the corruption’s muting effect on his emotions.

"I’m certain I know the answer to this, but your companions – Elara and Seria – they know about your corruption? About what the shadow magic does to you?"

"Yes. They’re my anchors, like you’ve guessed. They help keep me human when the darkness gets overwhelming."

"But they don’t know about this, do they?" Lyristae gestured to the empty streets, the late hour, the implied violence of his evening activities. "They don’t know about the Emperor’s assassination assignments. About the targets you’ve eliminated. About how easy it’s becoming to kill without feeling."

"No. They think I’m still conducting legitimate investigation."

"Why hide it from them?"

"Because they’d be complicit. Because knowing would force them to choose between supporting extrajudicial executions or opposing me. Because – " He stopped, recognizing the truth beneath the rationalization. " – because the corruption makes lying to them feel appropriate rather than morally wrong."

"And that scares you," Lyristae said softly. "The fact that you can lie to people you love without guilt. That the darkness has progressed far enough to make betrayal feel justified."

"Yes."

They stood in silence, the admission hanging between them.

"I’m not going to tell you to confess everything to them," Lyristae said finally. "That’s your choice, your relationship, your burden to manage. But Damien – consider that maybe having someone who knows the full truth, someone who understands the darkness without needing to be protected from it, might be valuable. Not as replacement for your anchors, but as... supplement. Someone who can operate in the spaces they can’t."

"Is that what you’re offering? To be the person I can be honest with about the darkness?"

"I’m offering a connection between two people who understand what it costs to wield shadows. Whatever form that takes – necessary partnership, friendship, something else – we can figure out together." She smiled slightly. "Besides, I suspect we’ll be working together regardless. The demon conspiracy is too large for either of us to handle alone, and we’re both too stubborn to let others do the work we’re capable of."

"That’s a fair assessment."

"I’m good at assessments. Comes with six years of hiding what I am while ruling a kingdom." She began walking again, and Damien fell into step beside her. "Speaking of which – I’m returning to Valdara in three days. My council is getting restless about the Queen being away from the kingdom for so long. But I’ll be back within the month. The demon threat isn’t contained yet, and I have... vested interest in ensuring you succeed."

"Vested interest in the investigation, or in me specifically?"

"Both. You’re conducting the most effective investigation into the conspiracy. And you’re the only other shadow wielder I’ve met. Both make your success valuable to my interests." She paused at a corner where their routes would diverge. "Will you write to me? While I’m in Valdara? Coordinate intelligence, share developments in the investigation, maintain the alliance we’re building?"

"That would be appropriate for strategic partnership," Damien agreed.

"Good. Then I’ll expect regular correspondence." Her smile was warm.

They parted ways – Lyristae toward the palace’s guest quarters, Damien toward his residence. But the conversation lingered in his mind.