Reincarnated as the Villainess's Unlucky Bodyguard-Chapter 201: Unraveling the Threads

Azael's war wasn't over. But tonight, for the first time, I'd truly fought back.

Tonight, I'd chosen myself.

Azael stood silently in the shadows of her chambers, golden eyes narrowed dangerously, frustration boiling beneath a carefully maintained facade of calm. The torches cast flickering violet light over the stone walls, shadows twisting and writhing as if echoing her internal fury.

She had never tolerated defiance not from enemies, and certainly not from those she'd raised to stand by her side. Yet Liria, her most promising protégé, had repeatedly tested her patience, straining the boundaries of her mercy far beyond breaking.

Tonight had been the final straw.

Azael paced slowly, footsteps echoing softly against cold stone, her crimson robes whispering gently behind her. Her mind replayed the confrontation again and again—Liria's resistance, her stubborn refusal, her defiant eyes burning with something Azael could neither control nor extinguish.

"Compassion," she murmured bitterly, the word tasting foul upon her tongue. "Love. Sentiment."

These were weaknesses she'd long since purged from her own heart—vulnerabilities that had once nearly destroyed her. She'd built an empire upon ruthless determination and merciless resolve. Yet somehow, Liria still clung to the very chains Azael had shattered.

"Enough," Azael whispered harshly, halting abruptly, the shadows around her surging restlessly in response to her anger. "I have allowed this defiance too long."

She turned toward the far wall, striding purposefully to a hidden compartment concealed behind thick curtains of black velvet. She reached out, placing her hand against the cold, engraved stone, uttering a whispered incantation only she knew.

The wall shuddered softly, revealing a hidden chamber bathed in eerie, pulsating violet light. At its center stood a pedestal carved from pure obsidian, upon which rested an intricately designed crystal—a conduit of ancient, powerful magic. The artifact hummed softly with latent power, waiting patiently for its master's command.

Azael stepped inside slowly, fingers brushing carefully against the crystal's smooth, cold surface. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes cold and unyielding.

"If sentiment blinds you," she murmured softly, voice dangerous and resolved, "then I shall remove your sight entirely."

Her plan had been simple enough—grant Liria freedom, choice, the illusion of control. She had believed the girl would eventually surrender willingly, embracing darkness as a gift rather than a burden. Clearly, she'd underestimated Liria's stubbornness.

Now, she would no longer offer choice.

Now, she would claim absolute obedience.

Azael's fingers traced intricate patterns over the crystal, the ancient runes beneath her touch glowing brighter, responding eagerly to her intent. Magic surged sharply through her veins, powerful and intoxicating, dark threads of power weaving precisely beneath her fingertips.

"Erase the ties that bind her heart,Strip her memories, set her apart.Reforge the mind, reshape the will,Only my command shall she fulfill."

The words echoed ominously, the crystal pulsating violently, shadows swirling fiercely around the chamber, acknowledging the dark magic she invoked.

She hesitated briefly, gaze fixed upon the crystal's shimmering core, something deep within her chest tightening inexplicably a strange, unwelcome pang of doubt, of hesitation.

Weakness, she reminded herself sharply. This is weakness. Purge it.

Azael clenched her jaw, forcing determination back into her expression, silencing lingering uncertainties. She'd been too lenient already. Hesitation had allowed sentiment to flourish within Liria, infecting her mind, weakening her resolve.

She would correct her mistake now.

Her magic intensified, shadows coalescing into threads of shimmering darkness, wrapping tightly around the crystal, the spell complete yet dormant, awaiting only Liria's arrival to be fully activated.

Azael stepped back carefully, eyes cold yet filled with quiet satisfaction. With this spell, Liria's heart would be stripped bare—every memory of Daena, Enara, and all those who'd poisoned her mind with false promises of compassion and love would vanish completely.

She would be reborn—stronger, obedient, utterly loyal only to Azael.

Turning sharply, Azael swept from the hidden chamber, sealing the wall behind her, the magic's echoes fading slowly into silence. She strode purposefully toward Liria's quarters, footsteps steady, heart hardened against sentiment or regret.

As she reached the door, she hesitated only briefly, reinforcing her resolve one final time.

"There is no other way," she whispered harshly to herself, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You left me no choice."

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Without knocking, she entered, finding Liria sitting quietly at the edge of her bed, gaze lost in thought, exhaustion evident in her slumped posture. Her mismatched eyes flicked upward sharply as Azael stepped inside, caution flickering clearly within them.

"Azael," Liria greeted softly, voice wary yet carefully controlled. "Have you come to punish me?"

Azael smiled faintly, expression deceptively gentle. "No, child. I've come to help you."

Liria tensed subtly, mistrust evident beneath carefully guarded composure. "Help me how?"

Azael extended one hand, palm open, inviting. "By removing your doubt entirely. You've fought long enough. It's time you found peace."

Liria's eyes narrowed slightly, hesitating. "Peace? Or submission?"

"They are one and the same," Azael replied smoothly, stepping closer, voice soft yet carrying quiet authority. "Release your defiance, your burdens, your attachments they weigh you down. Embrace darkness fully, and I'll grant you strength beyond imagining."

For a heartbeat, uncertainty flickered briefly across Liria's features, hesitation warring fiercely with desire. But quickly, resolve hardened sharply, defiance igniting fiercely within her gaze.

"I won't surrender my heart," Liria murmured firmly, lifting her chin defiantly. "No matter what you offer."

Azael's expression darkened instantly, shadows thickening dangerously around her. "Then you choose suffering."

Liria swallowed tightly, eyes wary yet determined. "So be it."

Azael moved swiftly, shadows surging violently, ensnaring Liria tightly, dragging her forcefully toward the hidden chamber. The girl struggled desperately, shadows binding her wrists, her limbs, her magic suppressed by Azael's superior strength.

"You've forced this upon yourself," Azael hissed harshly, her voice echoing through darkened corridors. "Your defiance has left me no alternative."

Liria fought helplessly, panic rising sharply, realization dawning terrifyingly. "What are you doing?!"

Azael didn't reply, dragging her mercilessly inside the hidden chamber. Shadows held Liria firmly before the crystal, its violet glow casting harsh illumination across her terrified expression.

"Stop!" Liria begged desperately, voice raw, pleading. "Please, don't do this!"

Azael hesitated briefly, heart wrenching briefly at the girl's desperate cries. Yet she quickly suppressed sentiment, eyes hardening coldly.

"Your memories have poisoned you," she whispered harshly, fingertips poised delicately above the crystal. "I'll cleanse you of them forever."

With ruthless resolve, Azael activated the spell, dark threads of magic erupting violently from the crystal, surging directly into Liria's mind, heart, and soul.

Liria screamed in agony, shadows penetrating mercilessly, tearing through memories, erasing faces, voices, and love Daena's tenderness, Enara's laughter, every precious bond shattered, dissolved completely beneath relentless darkness.

Azael forced herself to watch, ignoring the ache deep within her chest, refusing mercy or hesitation. Liria's screams echoed painfully yet she endured, eyes cold, unflinching, witnessing every fragment of the girl's identity stripped away.

Slowly, finally, the darkness receded, magic fading quietly. Liria slumped weakly within shadow bindings, breathing raggedly, eyes blank, unfocused.

Azael stepped cautiously closer, releasing shadows carefully. "Liria?"

The girl lifted her gaze slowly, eyes utterly devoid of familiarity or recognition. "Who… who are you?"

Azael smiled softly, voice gentle yet firm. "I am your Sovereign, your guide your only truth. Do you remember?"

Liria blinked slowly, confusion evident. "No… I don't remember anything."

Azael extended her hand gently, voice soothing, manipulative. "That's because there is nothing to remember but me. I am your past, your present, your future. You serve only me."

Slowly, hesitantly, Liria took her offered hand, eyes seeking reassurance. "Yes… my Sovereign."

Azael's chest tightened sharply relief mingling strangely with remorse. She quickly suppressed the unwanted emotion, focusing sharply on triumph instead.

Finally, Liria was truly hers. No doubt, no sentiment only unquestioning loyalty remained.

"Come," Azael whispered softly, guiding Liria gently from the chamber. "Your training resumes immediately."

"Yes, Sovereign," Liria replied obediently, stepping docilely beside her, eyes empty yet utterly trusting.

As they moved silently down shadowed corridors, victory filled Azael's chest, yet alongside it lingered an unsettling heaviness she refused to acknowledge echoes of loss, of regret.

She pushed the sensations fiercely aside, focusing instead on Liria's blank, obedient gaze.

Sentiment had no place here.

Only power, strength, obedience.

Azael led Liria quietly down the dimly lit corridor, shadows swirling gently around their feet, yet despite her outward calm, her heart beat unsteadily within her chest. She glanced sideways at the girl beside her—expression empty, eyes vacant of memories and emotions that had once defined her—and felt an uncomfortable pang deep inside her chest.

Stop it, she reminded herself sharply. This was necessary.

Yet she found it difficult to ignore the hollow feeling that gnawed persistently at the edge of her thoughts. She had won obedience, total control—but at what cost? Gone was the spark of defiance, the vibrant determination that had made Liria so compelling. Now, in its place, stood only a blank slate, a hollow vessel waiting to be filled by whatever commands Azael chose to give.

She paused briefly at the entrance to Liria's chambers, studying the girl's face carefully for any sign of residual defiance or memory. But there was nothing—just emptiness. An obedient puppet, exactly as she had intended.

And yet, the triumph felt empty, the victory bitter.

"Rest now," Azael instructed softly, opening the door gently. "Tomorrow your true training begins."

Liria nodded slowly, stepping inside without hesitation, eyes still blank. "As you command, Sovereign."

Azael watched silently as Liria settled onto the edge of her bed, movements mechanical, devoid of natural grace. Her heart twisted painfully at the sight, despite herself.

She turned away sharply, sealing the door behind her with a decisive click. Her footsteps echoed through the silent corridor, each step heavier than the last.

"You did what you had to," she whispered fiercely to herself, voice filled with desperate reassurance. "Now she is yours, completely."