The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 94 - The Demon’s Surrender

“Entark… Eighth Form: Spin…”

Eugenie took a deep breath.

“Huff…”

She clutched her chest, feeling her heartbeat, but her legs were growing weaker.

The power the demon had granted her was being taken away—not just the ability to wield Demon Swordsmanship, but also her vitality, her life force.

It felt as though every nerve in her body was being pulled taut, causing unbearable pain.

She grew weaker and weaker.

But she still clung tightly to the armrest of her chair.

“It’s fine… I’ll still have some left. As long as I can still use Demon Swordsmanship, I’ll have a place in dungeon exploration…”

Will glanced at her.

Although he could see Eugenie growing more frail, and Treya’s every move on stage resembling more and more the Entark sword style he had first seen…

Something still felt off.

It was as if… something was watching him.

“By the way, Eir, no one nearby is staring at me, right?”

“Eir has been watching the Young Master the whole time! If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Hmm… If even Eir hasn’t noticed, then no one’s watching me…”

—Which makes it even stranger.

—What kind of gaze could I feel that Eir wouldn’t notice?

—

“Huff…”

Treya immersed herself in the techniques of Demon Swordsmanship, which were being directly poured into her.

She finally understood how her sister had taught her the wrong Eleven Forms, and how the correct ones should be executed.

Not only did they have greater range and extraordinary cutting power, but they were also far more precise in destroying targets.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Treya raised her head.

As she mastered the Entark sword style…

The painting at the endpoint began to change under her touch, transforming into an image of Will Hysterm in the black suit he had worn at the banquet.

“Ah, congratulations. Another one taught. Well done on your coronation.”

The demon clapped behind her, then stepped forward to stand before the painting, clapping again.

The painting within the frame dissolved, leaving behind a hollow void.

Through the void, Treya could see what appeared to be her own “vision.”

Beyond the frame was Will, seated in the audience, leaning back in his chair and seemingly watching her with satisfaction.

And…

Beside him was Eugenie.

Treya noticed faint black threads emanating from Eugenie, connecting her to the Demon’s Spirit Jar in some way.

“Walk through here, and you’ll be out.”

The demon, still in Treya’s likeness, didn’t bother changing its appearance. It stood in place and even bowed to her.

It gestured toward the world beyond the frame.

“…So this is the so-called coronation ceremony?”

“Of course not. Only when you willingly step out of here will our contract be considered complete.”

The demon spoke “politely,” but its tone carried a hint of mockery.

“A contract?”

Treya stared at the world beyond the frame, taking slow steps forward.

Yes… stepping out from here, she would become Treya, the master of Demon Swordsmanship.

She would fulfill Will-sensei’s expectations of her…

And exact her revenge on Eugenie…

Her gaze grew unfocused as she looked at the world beyond the frame. As she drew closer, the scenery outside turned darker and darker…

Only Will at the center remained colorful.

Yes, yes…

This is how it should be.

It’s what it told her.

It’s what she had promised.

It’s what He had guided her toward.

She finally understood what had been troubling her, what had been confusing her, what she had wanted to learn—

To read her own heart.

This is wonderful. Will-sensei, look, I’ve learned it.

She sheathed her sword.

Step by step, she approached the frame and the demon beside it.

—

Treya’s sword dance grew more beautiful.

And it increasingly resembled the “Entark sword style” everyone had in mind.

A strange atmosphere seemed to permeate the air, as if shadows were subtly emanating from Treya on stage, swirling around her.

And so…

The murmurs in the audience grew quieter.

They were replaced by an inexplicable heaviness in the room.

“Entark Tenth Form: Resolve.”

Treya’s sword traced a beautiful arc before coming to rest.

She stood with her back to the audience, frozen in that moment.

“Alright… she should… she should stop now…”

“Huff… huff…”

Eugenie clutched her chest, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as sweat dripped down her face.

The pain had tightened like a vice.

But…

It suddenly released, as if letting go all at once.

“Thank… thank goodness…”

She gasped for air.

“She’s finally done? That… that seems…”

But Treya, still holding her stance, slowly raised her sword once more.

—

Treya stared at the world beyond the frame, where Will remained colorful.

The only… color…

Wait… the only…?

The only?

Suddenly…

She stopped.

She turned to look at the demon, still bowing beside her.

“What’s wrong? All you have to do is step through here… and you’ll gain the Demon Swordsmanship you desire.”

“And with it, you’ll ascend to the throne you seek.”

“With that… obtaining him…”

“Should be effortless.”

“Come on~ Just step through~ Complete the contract with me.”

The demon spoke in a seductive tone, striking an elegant pose.

But…

Treya stared at it.

No, no, no, no.

Something was still missing.

Something was still unsatisfying.

Finally, she tilted her head and looked at the demon.

“Tell me…”

Treya’s silver hair fell slightly as she tilted her head.

“Why… are you colorful?”

The demon standing there seemed to shudder at her words.

“D-don’t overthink it. Just step through, and it’ll be fine.”

But Treya turned fully toward it.

“How strange.”

She twirled her silver sword in her hand as if playing with it—a trivial act for someone who had mastered Demon Swordsmanship.

“Why is that?”

She stepped closer to the demon, pushing it to the ground.

“I don’t understand.”

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Then, with her silver boots and black stockings, she stepped on it, pressing down on its fragile neck and grinding her heel into its silver hair.

“I don’t understand, I don’t understand, I don’t understand, I don’t understand…”

She shook her head violently.

“Why are you colorful?”

Finally, she drew her sword…

“You… can’t be colorful.”

And pointed it at the demon.

“Because in my world… you’re not worthy, Demon.”

The demon’s face and voice began to shift erratically, its words coming out in broken fragments—

“Crazy, crazy▇… How could this happen… not▇ possible… Ninth Princess is terrifying… don’t▇ guide her this way… she’ll bring her own▇ death… I s-surrender▇… final sword▇… merge, merge into one…”

Treya’s sword plunged downward.

It pierced the demon’s exposed forehead.

“An eyesore.”

“Colorful things… should only include him.”

What spilled out wasn’t blood. From its forehead, the demon seemed to be drained of color, turning black and white.

At the same time…

The blackness climbed from Treya’s silver boots, up her black armor, and into her silver hair, gradually turning her black as well.

“Hmm… this is right… How could my world tolerate a second colorful existence?”

Treya didn’t pull out her sword. She turned her back on the demon and walked toward the frame, toward Will.

Behind her, the demon’s corpse emitted a mechanical curse—

“You… you’re satisfied. You’re now like me▇… black…”

“You’ve indeed grown stronger…”

“But can you still turn back?”