Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain-Chapter 93: The Rescue

Cassel — POV

"Henry, Frederick, Joe—you’ll attack the mutated tree from the front. Be careful not to injure the man inside it. Try to sever its roots and immobilize it."

The order left my lips coldly, decisively, without room for argument. This was not a request. It was a command.

"What? Boss, are we saving the guy?"

Frederick was the first to react, his voice sharp with disbelief as he turned halfway toward me, rocky armor already beginning to form around his limbs.

Of course, he would ask.

After all, I—Cassel Zancroft—was not known for mercy. I wasn’t a hero who rushed to save every unfortunate soul trapped by fate. I didn’t waste strength on strangers, nor did I believe in pointless compassion.

Yet here we were.

But who said I wanted to save that man? 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The answer was simple—and irritatingly unavoidable.

Rosalia.

I glanced at her, standing slightly behind me. Her hands were clenched tightly at her sides, her shoulders tense, as if she were bracing herself against an unseen storm. Her eyes were fixed on the grotesque tree, yet she didn’t look at it with fear.

She looked at it with sorrow.

And that... unsettled me more than anything else.

I couldn’t do anything but fulfill her wish.

Even though I disliked the man who had caused Rosalia’s eyes to well up like that—even though the very thought of him ignited a bitter, irrational jealousy in my chest—I knew that wasn’t that kind of gaze.

There was no longing in her eyes. No affection. No desire.

Only pain.

A deep, quiet pain that felt old—too old.

She looked as though she were staring at a memory rather than a person. As if the man trapped inside the tree had torn open something she had buried long ago, something she had sworn never to look at again.

Something she didn’t want to remember.

No matter how jealous I felt, and no matter how dissatisfied I was, I couldn’t refuse her request.

I couldn’t ignore her when her eyes trembled like that.

To me, everything else paled in comparison to her tear-filled gaze.

I would do anything to make her stop crying.

Anything.

Especially when she wasn’t crying for me—or because of me.

If those tears had been shed for my sake, perhaps I wouldn’t have felt this sharp, unreasonable pain clawing at my chest. Perhaps it wouldn’t have felt so unfair.

But they weren’t.

"Move," I snapped, my voice cutting through the air like a blade. "If you understand the order, then why are you still standing there?"

The tone of my voice left no room for hesitation.

Frederick stiffened instantly, then gestured sharply for silence before charging forward. The ground cracked beneath his feet as his rocky form fully manifested.

Henry, however, lingered for a fraction of a second.

From the very beginning, his attention had never fully left Rosalia.

When he passed by her, his deep voice reached my ears.

"Does Rosalia know this person?"

My fingers twitched.

Of course, that sneaky fox had overheard our conversation. Evolvers had sharp senses to begin with, and with his wind ability, his hearing was easily dozens—no, hundreds—of times more sensitive than normal.

Still, it irritated me.

"That’s none of your business," I said coldly, meeting his multicolored eyes without flinching.

My gaze was sharp enough to warn him off.

"Move. Let’s finish what we came here to do and leave."

I heard him sigh behind me, followed by a quiet mutter.

"Childish."

I ignored him completely.

I am childish—yes, I admit it.

If it concerns Rosalia, I will be childish.

I’ll become petty, irrational, cruel, or soft—whatever she needs.

I’ll become anything for her.

The battle began.

And unfortunately, the mutated tree proved to be far stronger than anticipated.

Its massive trunk twisted unnaturally as thick branches lashed out like living whips. Worse still, every time a branch was severed, it regenerated—rapidly, violently, as if mocking our efforts.

Frederick slammed into the roots head-on, his rocky fists smashing into the ground with deafening force.

Henry hovered in the air, wind howling around him as countless razor-sharp blades sliced through the branches again and again.

Joe gritted his teeth and summoned jagged ice blades, using them to pin roots to the earth and slow their movement.

Robin and Liz remained on standby.

Robin’s poisonous mist was too dangerous—it could easily seep into the man’s wounds and kill him. Liz’s flames, on the other hand, were unstable and destructive. One mistake, and the hostage would burn along with the monster.

Frankly, I could have intervened at any moment and ended everything instantly.

But I didn’t.

I watched.

I let them struggle. I let them fight with everything they had.

Because there is no better training than facing death head-on.

That is how power multiplies.

That is how strength is forged.

I cannot do everything. I cannot shield everyone forever.

If I did, they would become weak and dependent.

And the moment I was gone, they would be crushed without mercy.

What I want is a strong team—one that can stand beside me.

Not burdens I have to drag behind me.

They must reach my expectations.

Otherwise, I have no use for cowards or weaklings.

Everyone fought desperately.

Roots thick as serpents wrapped around limbs, slamming bodies into the ground. The stench of blood and foul fluids filled the air as branches were cut, crushed, and torn apart.

Even Sebastian, Robin, and Liz clenched their teeth and charged forward, lending their strength wherever they could.

Good.

They had power. They had will.

And more importantly—they feared nothing.

But endurance has limits.

Minutes passed, and exhaustion began to show. Movements slowed. Breathing grew heavy. The roots only multiplied, twisting together like a living storm of wood and flesh.

The tree was no longer a single enemy—it was hundreds of them.

Trunks, roots, and branches moved in terrifying coordination, thrashing wildly, seeking to crush and drain every last drop of blood from its prey.

"Fall back!" I shouted the moment I saw their strength waver.

They didn’t argue.

One by one, they retreated, collapsing to the ground, gasping for air.

That was enough.

I raised my hand.

The monster sensed danger.

With surprising intelligence, the tree attempted to flee, retracting its roots and curling inward. Branches twisted and wrapped together, forming a massive, grotesque wooden sphere.

"Oh," I muttered softly, almost amused.

"Wise move."

Then my voice turned cold.

"But that won’t work on me."

With a simple motion of my hand, an invisible force tore through the sphere.

Wood split apart effortlessly.

A deafening crack echoed through the battlefield, followed by screams—raw, human screams—coming from inside the tree.

The sphere opened.

And there he was.

The man trapped within.

I used my telekinetic power, lifting his broken body from the mass of wood.

Branches were embedded beneath his skin, wrapped around bone and muscle like parasites. As I pulled him free, they tore away one by one, leaving behind shredded flesh and spurting blood.

Even then, the tree refused to let go.

Roots lashed out violently, desperate to reclaim their prey and fuse with him once more.

I didn’t allow it.

With a flick of my hand, I hurled the man away from the tree.

His body crashed against the ground, blood spraying across the dirt, soaking him completely.

"Now."

Lightning descended without warning.

A blinding strike tore through the air and slammed into the tree.

The monster shrieked.

Then burned.

The screams weakened—faded—and finally vanished, leaving behind nothing but silence.

The mutated tree stood charred and lifeless, its remains blackened and hardened, as the stench of scorched wood filled the air.

At last—

It was dead.