The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen-Chapter 332: Essence (4)

I replied to Malik with an awkward smile.

"Well, sir..." "There’s no time to waste."

Malik’s eyes went wide, and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"She’s already dealt with them." "What...?" "She handled it quite well on her own." "..." "She might be even stronger than you, sir." "..."

I pointed to a spot where the steam had dissipated, indicating an area where a fierce battle was taking place.

—Greed...!!! You’re messing up the route! —Shut up. It’s because you, ‘Envy,’ are interfering. —Be quiet and guard your neck; you’re being noisy.

Watching Hannah’s rapid movements, Malik thought it was wise he’d stepped down from his position as head. After all, it wouldn’t look right for the head to be weaker than his sister.

"She’s strong." "Isn’t she?" "Though, she might still need some help." "I seasoned the fight a bit to give her an edge." "Seasoned?"

With a slight smile, I flicked my finger, and a red thundercloud descended on the head of the Archbishop who was clashing with Hannah.

—Where are those shots coming from...! —We’ll kill the mage first... —Your back’s exposed. —Damn it...!

Malik watched Hannah’s martial prowess with a nod, glad he’d left things in her capable hands.

"Maybe you should go help, just in case." "Looks like I should. But, are you going to be alright?" "Well..."

I gently pushed Malik away and looked at the smoke rising from between the bolts of lightning.

"I might actually be in more danger." "..." "I thought I’d at least leave a scratch, but it looks like they’re fine."

Despite unleashing that much lightning, the elf still stood firm, protected by a shield of transparent magic. I couldn’t help but marvel at the elf’s power.

"Not even a monster, honestly."

I stretched and spoke to Malik, telling him not to worry about me and to help the others instead.

"Leave this to me and go assist elsewhere." "...Alright."

—...Slight movement.

"Why aren’t you leaving?"

Malik replied with a serious expression.

"I want to watch." "..." "As a swordsman who took a beating from that thing, how could I not want to see it?" "You really want to stay and watch?" "No. I think I might die if I keep watching, so I better leave."

Malik sighed deeply, full of regret, and lowered his head.

"If we fight again, I’ll make sure to show you." "Haha! A circus act, is it?" "Hmm..."

Malik grabbed my shoulder tightly.

"My father is coming." "..." "Just hold on a little longer." "Why are you saying that like you doubt me?"

I gathered aura into my sword with a smile.

"I’m going to win."

The elf’s green eyes gleamed with a vivid light. As Malik took his first step, something came rushing through the smoke.

An arrow. An explosive arrow charged with immense magic.

The elf’s arrow was flying straight for Malik’s throat. I took a deep breath and moved my sword swiftly.

The moment the arrow touched Tyrving...

—Whooosh...

The elf’s eyes widened.

"!"

"Go." "Almost died." "You’ve got me, don’t you?"

I dusted off my tingling hand and slowly approached the elf.

"Now, let’s see."

"..." "How legendary an elf’s skills really are."

If possible.

"..."

I wanted to eliminate any variables.

 Malik sighed in awe.

He was watching Ricardo’s battle with the Apostle.

—Clang! —Clang! Clang! Clang! —Clang...! Clang!

It was impossible to follow with the eye. By the time Malik managed to see Ricardo’s footsteps, Ricardo was already upon the elf, swinging his sword.

Whenever the elf began to cast a spell, Ricardo would instantly close the distance, disrupting the incantation.

"Curse this damned human!"

If the elf tried to back up and fire an arrow, Ricardo would rush in again, refusing to let him create any space.

The elf was impressive to withstand such a fierce assault, but Ricardo...

"Hoo."

...seemed monstrous.

There was a calm confidence in Ricardo’s strikes, as if he were holding back, letting the elf barely keep up. Malik wondered how much further Ricardo intended to grow, showcasing such martial prowess.

Malik sighed, then looked over at Hannah. Right now, he needed to help her more than cheer for Ricardo.

"..."

But then.

—Clang...!

My sister is remarkable. There’s not even a gap to intervene.

Malik silently watched Hannah. Her body was covered in wounds, small cuts littering her skin, with a deep gash on her thigh and a shallow wound on her side. Despite the injuries, it was clear that Hannah was in control of the fight, like a predator sensing victory.

The Archbishop’s body bore heavy wounds. His once-confident smile had long faded, and now, tension and anxiety were etched on his face.

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—Archbishop of Envy, you be the bait. I’ll take her head in the meantime. —Shut up, Greed.

Though their coordination was an issue, the greatest reason for their failure was that Hannah’s prowess far exceeded their expectations. She was holding her own against two Archbishops, a feat that defied reason.

While Ricardo’s support was crucial, it was undeniable that Hannah’s skill had turned the tide of the battle.

"Hah..."

Hannah closed her eyes.

She recalled the woman she had seen in a vision.

—Kill them. —Silence those who scorn you. —Kill.

In her mind, she conjured the image of a woman wielding a ruthless sword, a blade that struck without hesitation.

Following that precise path, she cut down her enemy.

She couldn’t mimic it perfectly, but she imitated it as best as she could, striving to reach the ultimate form of her own swordsmanship.

Hannah gripped her sword, thinking of that memory from when she’d faced her father.

A little °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° faster.

—Swoosh.

A little more concise.

—Swish.

Driven by a fierce will.

—Slice.

She was cutting down the foe before her.

Malik watched Hannah in silence. Intervening would only become a hindrance at this point. Although he could step in and ensure victory, he chose to stay back, marveling at her rapid growth and clutching his own leg in frustration.

"Is she attaining enlightenment?"

‘I understand now.’ ‘Why she was so terrifyingly strong.’ ‘Even though we’re the same, I think I finally understand why she felt so chilling.’

Every swing brought a wave of sadness, an uncontainable emptiness, and a boiling rage that surged up endlessly.

Though he didn’t know why, though he couldn’t define this feeling, one thing was clear:

This rage—

"Hah..."

—seemed to be directed at himself, tinged with the moment of regret.

"Hystania, First Form."

It was an emotion.

 A massive presence loomed.

The cultists prowling the battlefield glanced up at the moonlit sky, sensing an overwhelming pressure.

The elf, too, looked skyward, gritting his teeth at the oppressive force.

"Hypocrite!"

A small dot appeared—a mere speck on the horizon. But the figure drew a massive line across the sky with a cold expression.

The lion had arrived.

-Rumble.

A lion whose gaze none on the battlefield could meet.

The elf looked back at me and spoke coldly.

"Next time, I’ll kill you."

I shrugged with a small smile, one that he couldn’t quite decipher.

"Say no more."

As the elf vanished into the shadows, light began pouring down from the sky with a soft voice.

"Hystania, First Form."

The master of the battlefield had arrived.

"The Nameless One."

-Roar!!!

Letting out a thunderous roar.