Too Lazy to be a Villainess-Chapter 389: The Unusual Magic in the Air

[Lavinia’s POV—The Holy Temple—Continuation]

"So," I said slowly, my voice calm but sharp, "...you are telling me that you sensed something odd in the air?"

The High Priest furrowed his brows, his expression thoughtful, almost burdened.

"Yes," he replied. "Some days ago, one of our priests visited the capital city. When he returned, he reported something... unusual. A disturbance. A spell."

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"A spell?"

"Yes," he continued quietly. "But that is what troubles us, Your Highness. Even though we are priests who possess healing magic—who can sense and recognize most magical traces—we could not identify it. It was there... and yet it was not."

Haldor and I exchanged a glance.

My fingers curled slightly at my side.

"I hope," I said softly, dangerously softly, "you are not lying to me, High Priest. You know very well... I do not tolerate lies."

The High Priest bowed his head at once.

"Your Highness, the Holy Temple has always respected the empire," he said firmly. "We would never involve ourselves in matters that could harm its stability."

I stared at him for a long moment.

Then I exhaled slowly.

He was right.

The Holy Temple had never been a political force. They possessed only healing magic. They were the first pillar that stood beside the first emperor when the empire was born. Trusted. Untouched. Untainted.

And that was precisely why this situation felt so dangerous.

I looked at him again. "Then I would like to meet the priest who sensed the disturbance."

His eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded. "Of course, Your Highness. Please... this way."

He turned and gestured toward a quieter corridor.

"I will call him immediately."

We followed him toward the office chamber of the Holy Temple, our footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor.

As we walked, Haldor leaned slightly toward me and whispered, "Do you believe him?"

"I believe," I whispered back, "that he is afraid of something he does not understand."

And fear, when mixed with faith... Often created monsters.

The doors to the office chamber opened slowly.

And I knew—The next face I would see might hold the first real thread to unravel everything. Because when magic hides even from those who serve it...

Someone, somewhere... Is breaking the rules of the world itself.

***

[The Holy Temple—Office—Continuation]

The office chamber was small, simple, and painfully honest.

No gold.No carvings.No divine arrogance.

Only shelves of old scriptures and a single window that allowed light to fall like judgment upon anyone who stood beneath it.

The High Priest gestured gently.

"Enter."

A young priest stood inside, not young in age—but young in presence. His posture was stiff. His hands were folded too tightly. His eyes lifted the moment he saw me and immediately lowered again.

"This is Priest Arlen," the High Priest said quietly. "He is the one who sensed the disturbance."

I studied him for a moment.

Then I spoke gently, "Lift your head."

He obeyed; his eyes were honest and afraid.

"Tell me," I said calmly, "what did you feel in the air?"

He swallowed.

Then he spoke.

"Your Highness... it was magic."

Haldor remained silent.

I did not interrupt.

"But not magic that belongs to this empire," Arlen continued slowly. "It did not carry the warmth of healing... nor the balance of elemental power... nor the structure of spellcraft we know or to be found in this empire."

I frowned slightly, "Explain."

He took a breath.

"It felt... foreign. As if the air itself was remembering something that never belonged here."

The room felt colder.

"I could not see it," he continued. "I could not trace it. I could not name it. But I could feel it watching."

Haldor finally spoke, "Watching what?"

Arlen lifted his gaze.

"The empire."

Silence fell.

I stepped closer, "Where did you feel it?"

"In the capital city," he replied. "Near the old noble district... and again near the eastern archives."

My fingers tightened slightly, "And you are certain this magic is not from the Holy Temple? Not from the Magic Tower?"

He shook his head immediately.

"I swear on the Goddess and on my soul—it does not belong to any power recorded in our scriptures."

I looked at the High Priest.

Then back at Arlen.

"You are telling me," I said slowly, "that something not from this Place... is moving inside my empire."

Arlen nodded.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Haldor exhaled quietly. The High Priest closed his eyes for a moment.

I did not move.

Because I already understood. This was no longer just politics. No longer just treason. No longer just nobles plotting.

This was something older.

Deeper.

And far more dangerous.

I turned back to Arlen.

"You did the right thing by speaking," I said calmly. Then my voice sharpened. "And you will continue to speak — only to me."

He bowed deeply.

"Yes, Your Highness."

I straightened.

And in that moment, I knew. The enemy was not merely inside the empire. It was inside reality itself. And whatever had crossed into our empire... Had not come by accident.

I turned slowly toward the High Priest.

"Tell me," I asked evenly, "which empire holds the greatest magical power in this continent?"

The High Priest moved toward the nearest shelf, his fingers brushing over ancient spines before selecting one thick, time-worn volume. He placed it carefully on the table between us.

"After Priest Arlen informed me of the disturbance," he said quietly, "I began searching, Your Highness."

He opened the book.

"The first empire is Zerynth," he continued. "Its people possess unstable high magic. But it lies far beyond our reach. Any magic from there would require a teleportation spell."

I nodded. "And no teleportation spell can reach our empire without Supreme Mage Rey’s permission."

"Exactly," he replied.

He turned the page.

"Next is Nivale—the land of the Elves. Your birth mother’s homeland."

I gave a faint nod. "Elven magic is easily distinguishable. And they have no reason to harm us."

"Precisely," he said. "Their magic leaves a signature we can always trace."

Another page turned.

"There are two smaller empires as well," he continued. "But they are weak, isolated, and avoid all foreign interference. Neither possesses magic capable of breaching imperial boundaries."

Then—He stopped.

His fingers hesitated. Slowly, he lifted his gaze toward Haldor.

"And the last empire," he said carefully, "...is Astreon."

Haldor stiffened.

"Astreon?" I repeated softly.

The name itself felt heavier in the air.

I exhaled slowly. "But the people of Astreon do not interfere in other empires’ affairs. They have remained distant for generations."

The High Priest lowered his head slightly.

"I apologize for overstepping, Your Highness," he said quietly. "But... this is a matter you should discuss with your father-in-law. Maybe there’s something going on."

My fingers curled slowly at my side.

I turned toward Haldor. His face was calm—but his eyes were not, because this was no longer just a political theory.

This was personal.

Astreon was his blood.

His father’s land. His shadow.

If Astreon was involved... Then Haldor would not just be standing beside this conflict. He would be standing inside it.

I met his gaze.

And in that silent exchange, we both understood—This truth would not only shake the empire. It would test loyalty, blood, and identity itself.

I finally spoke, my voice steady despite the weight pressing against my chest.

"We will not accuse without proof," I said calmly. "But we will not ignore this either."

Then I looked at the High Priest. "From this moment forward, everything you discover about this magic... comes to me directly."

He bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Highness."

I turned back to Haldor, and in his eyes, I did not see fear.

I saw readiness.

And that was when I realized—The storm was no longer approaching. It had already chosen its battlefield.

And his name was written in its center.

***

[Later—Outside the Holy Temple]

The temple gates closed behind us with a low, echoing sound, as if sealing away a truth too heavy to remain inside. We walked toward the royal carriage in silence.

But I could feel it.

Haldor’s unease, It clung to him like an invisible shadow.

I exhaled slowly.

"Haldor..." I said gently, stopping him. "You need to relax. We don’t know the truth yet."

He looked at me, his eyes darker than before.

"But what if," he whispered, "my existence brings danger to you, Lavi?"

My heart tightened. I lifted my hands and cupped his face firmly, forcing him to meet my gaze.

"Your existence will never harm me," I said quietly but with absolute certainty. "Never."

He blinked.

"Every empire has men like Count Talvan," I continued softly. "Men who believe blood gives them the right to rule. And people like us exist to remind them of their place."

I rested my forehead against his.

"If Astreon is aiming something against us, then we will stand. Together. With our swords raised. Without hesitation."

He swallowed.

"And remember," I added gently, "not every person from Astreon is like Talvan. Blood does not decide loyalty. Choices do."

I pulled back slightly and smiled faintly, "So let us speak to your father first... hmm?"

He nodded slowly, "I just hope that Father is not hiding something."

I looked at him quietly and deep inside, I knew—He was not afraid of Astreon.

He was afraid of losing trust.

I took his hand firmly.

"Whatever truth waits," I said softly, "we will face it together."

He squeezed my hand back. And as we stepped into the carriage, I felt it. The next truth would not only shake the empire.

It would shake bloodlines.

Loyalties.

And destinies.

And when it surfaced...Nothing would remain the same.