The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 91 - The Wrong Sword Dance

Treya stood backstage, separated from the audience by a thick curtain, replaying the moment in her mind.

Only she knew that while she had appeared calm as she took the glass from Eugenie’s hand, her heart had been racing.

And…

“She was standing too close…”

At that thought, Treya covered her left eye with her gloved hand.

“Gray…”

She had approached them.

“Black…”

She had taken the orange juice.

“Filthy…”

She had taken a sip and walked away.

“…Slowly ‘tainting’ what little ‘color’ remains…”

It wasn’t one of Treya’s usual absentminded actions—she had done it on purpose.

In her eyes, Eugenie was like a pool of black ink, slowly staining everything around her.

But…

Eugenie had been caught off guard.

When Treya handed the glass she had sipped from to Will, she saw the ugly expression on Eugenie’s face as she struggled to suppress her anger.

“There won’t be a next time, Sister…”

Unconsciously, the corner of Treya’s mouth curled into a slight smirk.

Suddenly, the curtain in front of her was drawn open.

Dressed in black light armor, Treya was exposed to the crowd. She blinked, momentarily stunned by the light shining on her.

“May He continue to bless the Entark family as always.”

“Offer a sincere sword dance of the Demon Swordsmanship to Him.”

“And receive the coronation of the ‘God-Blessed Spirit Jar’—”

The priest presiding over the ceremony stood in the sunlight, arms outstretched, gesturing toward Treya.

“Hmm.”

Treya nodded and stepped forward, one deliberate step at a time.

Finally, she turned to face the strange-looking teapot placed high above, placed her hand over her chest, and bowed.

—This indicated that the upcoming sword dance was dedicated to it.

—This was also a required part of the ceremony.

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“Now then…”

She reached to her waist and drew her familiar silver sword.

Though the sword was old…

It was the one that had accompanied her throughout her training. During all the years she had practiced with Eugenie, this was the sword she had used.

So, for such an important occasion, she chose it once again.

Treya pointed the tip of her sword toward the audience, then flicked it upward and held it upright in front of her chest—a standard pose to signal the start of a challenge.

She looked at the two people seated behind the rectangular table in the front row.

One was on the right side of her sword, colorful.

The other was on the left side of her sword, black.

“The sword dance of Treya begins now.”

The most crucial part of the coronation ceremony… began as Treya lowered her sword.

—

“How… how is this possible? This… this isn’t the Entark sword style at all!”

Eugenie knew something was wrong the moment Treya swung her first sword stroke!

From the black tones of her outfit…

To her abandonment of the Entark sword techniques Eugenie had taught her…

To the sharp, deliberate glances Treya occasionally cast in her direction from the stage…

“Hmm, of course it’s not the Entark sword style—or rather, it’s not right now.”

Sitting across the aisle as part of the “peer” group, Will responded as if he had expected this all along.

The sword dance Treya was performing on stage…

Was a routine she had created herself, combining the basics of the five-year-old swordsmanship techniques with her years of personal understanding of swordsmanship.

It was completely different from the usual performances of the Entark First to Eleventh Forms.

But…

Even with such basic techniques, Treya’s serious demeanor, graceful movements, and flawless execution made her performance captivating.

“Will Hysterm! It’s you again?!”

“As her officially recognized little fiancé, I spent the weekend helping my future wife practice swordsmanship and… correcting some of her mistakes. Is there a problem with that?”

Will spoke nonchalantly, sipping the orange juice Treya had handed him earlier.

Of course…

Choosing such a sword dance for the ceremony wasn’t without controversy. Sitting in the second row, Will could overhear whispers from the first row.

Comments like “This doesn’t seem to be the Entark sword style,” “Is this really appropriate?” and “This is such an important ceremony” were being exchanged.

“Young Master, is this really okay? Letting Miss Treya perform something like this on such an occasion…”

Eir, who had been serving Will tea, overheard the murmurs and leaned in to ask him worriedly.

“Of course it’s fine. But…”

Will reassured Eir before turning to look at Eugenie.

“Whether it’s a problem or not, Princess Eugenie should know best, don’t you think?”

Eugenie clenched her fists at his words.

“Because her Entark sword style had been secretly tampered with by her ‘teacher’ in several places, and…”

Will couldn’t help but grin.

Since the gloves were already off…

He was going to rub it in her face!

He was going to settle all the grievances Treya had suffered and all the grudges he would have in the future, right here and now!

“Before your own coronation ceremony at fifteen, your basic sword techniques were a complete mess. As for your Demon Swordsmanship, you only learned it after performing the basic sword moves on stage… isn’t that right?”

“…How do you know that?”

“Hmm. There’s no such thing as a secret that doesn’t leak. If you can find out what I’ve been up to at school, then of course I can find out how you learned it, can’t I?”

Alright.

Will admitted he only knew this because of the “future” he had seen in the original story—Entark’s Demon Swordsmanship, the true and legitimate version, could only be learned during the coronation ceremony under the demon’s gaze. Any other version was just an imitation, full of errors.

Given that, the source of Eugenie’s “correct Demon Swordsmanship” was worth investigating.

The fact that she not only knew the correct techniques but also taught Treya the wrong ones was even more suspicious.

This could only mean that she not only mastered the correct techniques but was also intimately familiar with the incorrect ones.

So…

During his two days in the palace, Will had discreetly inquired among the more senior servants and asked Eir to keep an ear out.

Some of these servants had attended Eugenie’s coronation ceremony—maids serving tea, like Eir. From their fragmented accounts, Will pieced together what had happened during Eugenie’s ceremony.

This gave Will even more confidence.

As Treya’s sword dance on stage grew increasingly unconventional, emphasizing simplicity and strength, murmurs began to spread from the back rows—where some lesser nobles who had studied the basics of the Entark sword style were seated.

Then…

These murmurs were abruptly silenced by the sharp sound of King Edward slamming his teacup onto the table.

“…It’s coming…”

Will heard the faint words escape the king’s lips and looked up.

Squinting, he focused on the eerie teapot…

It wasn’t glowing.

On the contrary, in the brightly lit stage area, its position seemed to absorb all the light, becoming a dark void.

—

When Treya practiced swordsmanship, she would lose herself in the movements, focusing entirely on each step, each strike, each slash.

She concentrated on the colors flowing around her.

And…

Her heartbeat, which grew faster with every move.

She didn’t even hear the murmurs around her.

She listened to her heart.

—Lift.

She listened to her desires.

—Slide.

She grasped her desires.

—Slash.

She finally understood what she truly wanted…

As Treya spun and took her final step…

All the colors around her vanished, as if condensed into a single point, transforming into black.

She stepped into that pitch-black space.