The Villain Bought the Female Lead - Ch. 56
Academia’s boys’ dormitory.
In one of the rooms, Borg Lampit Ocell, a minion of the Goddess Cult, was experiencing cognitive dissonance and holding his head in anguish.
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand his actions and feelings. He hated that guy so much, even now. But every time he thought of him, the opposite feeling grew stronger.
“You… this bastard… Schugenhartz…!!”
Bang!
Unable to contain his anger, he slammed his fist on the desk.
But hitting the desk didn’t solve anything. In fact, every time his fist throbbed, his loyalty and respect for that person grew, as if jumping out of him.
He was trying to use him.
The faction of the Goddess Cult he belonged to. He wanted to investigate the Image Faction, which sculpted the beauty of the goddess in this world.
This time was no different.
Vargan obtained information about the Image Faction followers through him. Even information about the <Bug>…!
Information that should never be revealed outside. But whenever Vargan asked, his mouth automatically opened, revealing his thoughts.
There was no greater humiliation.
How could a devout follower like him betray the Goddess?
He even considered revealing this humiliation to the Goddess Cult and asking them to take action against Vargan, even if it ruined his reputation.
“Hah…! Ha, ha….”
He struggled to catch his breath again, feeling extreme fear as if he were a child left alone in a dark forest.
Damn it, that was why.
That was why he couldn’t do anything.
Whenever he had impure thoughts about betraying Vargan, his brain seemed to malfunction, emitting a specific emotion. Most of the time, it was fear, and it grew stronger over time.
Since that day.
Since Vargan fed him that strange slime monster and hypnotized him, his stolen body was easily manipulated by Vargan.
“…!”
Suddenly, he shivered as if he had caught a cold.
“No, no, no. I wasn’t thinking about it. I wasn’t thinking about it…!”
Lying face down on the desk, Borg shook his head vigorously in denial.
The subject of fear wasn’t just about thoughts of betraying Vargan. There was another safeguard Vargan had placed to prevent Borg from even thinking about Erica.
“I wasn’t thinking about Erica! Not at all!! Please, just stop…!”
The curse on thoughts of Erica was stronger, and his face looked completely pale, as if he were about to die.
Whenever he thought about her even a little, a strong curse would activate, and Vargan’s familiar inside him would suck his mana, crushing his will to resist.
I want to die.
I’d rather die.
Sometimes he had that desire, but it quickly faded like a candle in the wind, leaving no trace. This wasn’t due to Vargan’s curse. It was just Borg’s inherent fear.
Eventually giving up lying on the desk, Borg curled up on the floor, trembling, with a small, mad smile on his lips.
It was hard.
He wanted to die.
But this was the last day.
“Heh, heh, heh… heh.”
He laughed quietly, like a ghost whispering.
Today it ended. He would be free from this hell.
That incredibly arrogant and foolish bastard.
What could a first-year hero-in-training possibly do by going there? It was like he was going to commit suicide.
Borg remembered Vargan nodding after hearing the information he provided. Vargan went to the theater where Bishop Caliculea of the Image Faction of the Goddess Cult was.
He didn’t say why, but he must be thinking of harming Bishop Caliculea. Foolish. So ignorant of the world. He didn’t know how he found out that the bishop was there, but not taking the professors was his downfall.
Die.
Die, Vargan.
Be torn apart and become a sacrificial offering there.
“Heh, heh heh heh heh. Keh heh… keuh??!”
Laughing and then terrified, Borg continued to be consumed by Vargan’s curse in the small room.
***
Her eyelids felt frozen shut.
She wanted to drive away the darkness and see ahead, but a terrible nightmare held young Erica. Sad. Scared. Longing… these feelings pulled her into an endless cycle.
Erica tried to shake off all those hands and resist.
Something was wrong. Clearly, something was wrong.
She tried to move her unresponsive body. Maybe it was just her imagination, but the restraining force seemed weaker than before. Perhaps the caster couldn’t concentrate or had moved away….
?!
Erica, straining her muscles to the breaking point, managed to regain some control over her body. Though still in darkness and with her senses dulled, she could control the flow of mana within her.
Whoosh.
She guided her mana.
Melting the frozen valley, opening a waterway.
Little by little. Little by little. All the ice melted away.
The flowing streams gathered one by one.
As her internal mana moved normally, her physical senses rapidly recovered. Now she could open her eyes.
Erica began to lift her long eyelashes.
A bright light. The stage lights tried to send her barely visible eyes back.
Erica’s delicate brows furrowed, and her moving pupils focused. She saw two human figures. No, one of them had unusually long arms, giving him a grotesque appearance.
Erica focused on them again.
[You wretched creature! It’s because of you that my lover hasn’t awakened from her blessing???!! If not for you, by now her body would be filled with…!]
Erika gasped in surprise.
Seeing him clearly, he looked even more bizarre. Definitely not human. Monster… creature… no, that was… Altife…? But, that human-like form… surely a third-grade danger, bishop level or higher?
“Caliculea. Did I not tell you to be silent?”
A man’s voice pierced the cold air, clear and distinct.
Though not loud, his voice reached Erica’s ears directly in the noisy theater, as if by magic.
A voice tinged with some anger.
The usual contemptuous smile was gone from his face.
“……”
For a very brief moment, Erica met Vargan’s eyes. He glanced at her indifferently, as if checking the condition of an object, and then stared at the monster before him.
Erica tried to call out to him.
She didn’t even know what she was going to say.
She tried to move her creaking body.
Vargan stopped her actions.
“Think about returning to Academia, Erica. If you force yourself now, you won’t be able to take a single step after this battle.”
Despite this, Erica, unable to just sit still, tried to speak, to say she was fine and could fight.
But only her lips moved, and no sound came out.
She wasn’t fully recovered yet.
“What did I tell you?”
He finally smiled.
A faint smile.
“If you don’t want to be carried back by someone you despise, <sit there and rest>.”
“……!”
Erica’s legs gave out under the curse, and her vision blurred. Normally, she could have broken free, but now the situation was different.
Erica was forced to sit back down.
Her furrowed brows were forcibly smoothed, and her eyelids closed.
“Schugen… hartz….”
Just before her head dropped, she managed to say his name. She saw Vargan’s profile. It grew fainter.
With those words, Erica fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, more comfortable than anyone else in the world.
It seemed she wouldn’t have nightmares like before.
***
The reason I wasn’t caught in his power, <Nightmare>, was simple. I cast a curse on myself first.
It was like this.
A parking space that fit one car couldn’t fit two. Even if it was divine power different from magic, it was impossible to have two dreams at once.
So, it was not such an amazing thing.
Shuaaak!!
The severed arms of Caliculea grew back as if nothing had happened, extending like a bow.
The speed was considerable.
To the point where the vibrating sound made you frown.
Indeed, a bishop-level opponent was different.
The tentacles of the priest Alicia fought were much slower. As expected, he was not an easy opponent.
He continued to thrust both arms.
His body, repeatedly stretching and contracting at high speed, was as elastic and quick as a giant rubber band.
[You haven’t cast a proper spell since earlier! For all your blabbering, all you can do is dodge! It’s laughable! So laughable!]
Thinking that the current situation was in his favor, Caliculea excitedly increased his speed.
Though he didn’t wrap himself in aura like a hero, his pure physical strength alone was formidable enough.
I dodged his fierce attacks like swimming, continuing my analysis.
“I can see that your body is harder than steel. You would have been better off in a mine than in a play.”
Caliculea’s eyes grew intense.
It seemed that making remarks about acting was more effective against this guy than any other insult.
At that moment.
Caliculea’s pupils spread like paint.
He used his power again.
The trick of placing a curse in advance wouldn’t work this time. While I wouldn’t fall for his curse, falling asleep would still leave me defenseless.
Shh.
He grinned.
Even his smile became blurry.
My eyes gradually closed.
I felt my body slowing down.
His steel-like fist coming straight at me.
Oh, I can’t dodge this one.
Crunch?!
The fist hit my face directly.
It shattered the bones of my nose and my facial structure.
I flew away like a cannonball from the impact.
Caliculea grinned hideously, his lips stretching to his ears. The area behind him, where props were piled up, was now filled with dust.
Caliculea watched the fine particles, then struck a strong blow toward the black shadow wriggling within them.
A huge impact that I couldn’t counter.
His attack was dreadful enough to pierce my abdomen?
… or so it should be written if this were the script you wanted.
Life didn’t always go as planned.
Wasn’t that right, Caliculea?
[……!!]
Caliculea, snapping out of the illusion, widened his eyes like a fish. Despite not being human, his dumbfounded expression was no different from a person’s.
Tap, tap.
I lightly tapped the shoulder of the petrified Caliculea. Not the remnants of the props, but a signal to look at me.
“Your fighting style is not beautiful. You may call yourself a playwright, but your nature is far from it. Your true self is violent and destructive.”
Crack, crack.
The pathetic bishop, unable to move due to the layered curses.
Caliculea’s muscles twitched as he turned his face, filled with intense anger.
Creaking, his head turned.
He seemed unaffected by the pain of tearing muscles and breaking bones, denying the reality with furious eyes.
[It’s strange… it’s strange… you… you’re inferior to me. Definitely… you should be my prey… this situation makes no sense…!!]
Hmm.
I couldn’t quantify combat power like Liam, but he was not wrong.
Caliculea. This guy surpassed me in pure combat power.
With his strong body, high magic resistance, and troublesome curses, if I were the old Vargan, my abdomen would indeed have been pierced.
[Sight… hearing… touch, smell, mana… there’s more.]
Caliculea listed the names of the curses I placed on him. Despite his shabby appearance, being bishop-level, he seemed to have figured out the curses.
He was right.
One curse alone wasn’t enough to deceive him. Tying a man with a thin thread wouldn’t stop him from moving.
So, I layered the threads.
One to cover his eyes. One to cover his ears… layer by layer, even a grown man couldn’t escape.
Well, if the difference was too great, it would be useless, but it worked in our case.
Crunch.
His teeth shattered. A pitiable byproduct of his inability to withstand the intense anger.
He couldn’t believe the current reality.
[There can’t be <two> humans in this world with such an amount of mana… what are you, what are you exactly?!]
He must be referring to the headmaster of the Academia.
Well, to him, that person was a transcendent being at the pinnacle of magic.
Sorry to say, I was not quite at that level yet. It was an excessive evaluation for a monster.
“I understand your curiosity. It must seem strange. Far beyond what is comprehensible.”
I took out the hammer I had kept in my pocket.
Whack, whack.
Lightly hitting his hand, I continued speaking.
“… I told you. I never gave you permission to question me.”
[Do you think I’ll open my mouth to such torture?! To a mere human?!]
“Well… I can’t guarantee it, but wouldn’t you open it if the pain is unbearably great?”
Raising the hammer in my hand, I continued.
Hmm? Showing a somewhat hesitant expression was my performance for this self-proclaimed playwright.
“Where does touch come from, do you think?”
He didn’t answer my question. He still struggled, trying to forcibly break free from my curse.
I gently placed my hand on his struggling body.
Like a saint embracing a child, cautiously.
Caliculea noticed the change.
“The answer is nerves.”
I swung the hammer, embedding a usual aura.
He screamed.
I didn’t add any special power.
The difference was in his body.
Whack?! Whack?!
Ah, yes, that sounded good.
Let’s make a bet.
Whack?! Whack?!
If you scream less than half the time I swing the hammer, you win. If more, I win. The winner gets the right to ask and be answered.
Oh, what a true display of humanity.
Offering even such a lowly creature a chance.
Pursuing humanity and cherishing even the lowest beings, such a kind heart would bring tears of repentance from even a devil.
Screeeeeam!!
How about it, Caliculea? I wanted to hear your opinion.
Don’t just cry, answer me.