Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 178

Chapter 178: [Brightest Star] [8]
[…Are you sure about this?]

El’s solemn voice echoed in my head as I propelled myself toward the amber-haired man.

‘This is the only way.’

I thought, looking at the kneeling Ashlyn from the corner of my eye.

Her awakening had already been delayed for a long time.

She needed a push—a heartbreaking, remorseful experience to awaken.

And Tiffany’s death was just what she needed.

[….You shouldn’t have done that.]

‘…As long as Tiffany is alive, everything will be fine.’

I thought, eyes on the man staring at Ashlyn.

“Where is she?” I asked calmly, blocking his view.

His amber eyes turned towards me as he tilted his head, asking, “Who?”

“Tiffany,” I replied, gripping my katana.

“She is dea—.”

“That was fake,” I interjected, glaring at him. “Stop lying.”

He raised his brow in surprise, folding his arms and looking at me. “Yet you didn’t tell her, I wonder why?”

“…..”

[….Azariah, get out of here; you’re in a trap.]

‘Just one minute.’

I replied, glancing back at Ashlyn, whose body started to ooze out white mist slowly covering her body.

Immediately retracting my gaze, I looked back at him.

He seemed lost in thought, eyes squinting at me.

“It seems Bradyn was right about you,” he commented cryptically, looking at me.

“…Where is Tiffany?” I asked again, glaring at him.

…Even though I knew he wouldn’t tell me, I still asked because right now, all I needed was time.

…Just a little bit of time.

His face twisted into a smile as he asked mockingly, “…You want to see her?”

[….Az.]

Without replying, I glanced back; the white mist around her started to slowly enter her body.

That is the most important time for her.

…Just a bit more, and she will awaken.

[…Get out of here, Az!]

‘Just a bit more.’

I flinched slightly as the man raised his hand, waving toward me, “Bye, boy.”

“Huh?”

I let out a confused voice, staring at him.

An uncomfortable feeling started creeping from my head to toe.

And it didn’t take long for it to turn into dread.

[Az—.]

El’s voice abruptly halted, overwhelmed by the sound of something breaking.

I looked around anxiously for the source of the sound, but I quickly noticed it was the world around me cracking.

The man, tree, ground, benches—everything started cracking down, scattering like glass, slowly replaced by a layer of fog.

The thin fog gradually filled the air, and the surroundings turned eerily silent.

The fog was pitch black and devoid of any light—something that shouldn’t belong in this place.

“El—!”

I tried to shout, but the moment I opened my mouth, strong gales of fog gushed in, and my voice was miserably stuffed back into my mouth.

‘What is happening!?’

I yelled in my mind, the world around me turning pitch black.

A cold and damp feeling chilled my heart, and slowly my eyes were blinded with crimson liquid.

All that was left in my sight was a world of blood, my eyes gazing up at the darkness swallowing me.

…..

…..

…..

“You are finally here.”

A voice echoed within a throne room, a tall figure with pitch-black hair sat on it.

The center of the room twisted, a boy emerging out of thin air.

His purple hair damp with blood, his blurry gaze blankly looked at the lady.

His knees wobbled as he fell down, his body trembling.

Valcina smiled, gazing down at him, her interest piqued as she commented, “It looks like you can see her.”

…He could see.

The aura surrounding her.

An aura taking the shape of a woman.

A silhouetted figure stood against the bright red light behind, giving off a mysterious and almost demonic presence, with sharp and angular tendrils of energy radiating around.

…Run!

I need to run!

Azariah’s instincts kicked in, his legs turning around, a burst of energy encapsulated them as he tried to run away.

A strong gale blew out of Valcina’s body, lifting her gown slightly.

Azariah’s body involuntarily rose a few meters into the air before being thrown several meters away.

His body ached in pain, rolling on the hard floor.

Blood seeped from his head as he tried to stand up.

“Don’t bother, boy,” she whispered, her elbow resting on the armrest.

“This is my world; you can’t get out of here without my permission.”

“…Huff… Huff…”

Azariah gasped for breath, trying his best not to look at her.

Every time his gaze landed on her, he felt a pain akin to needles pricking his eyes.

A gust of black wind rushed toward Azariah, the fog covering him.

As soon as the wind stopped, six figures emerged from the dispersing fog.

They were all wearing black cloaks and were female.

Blood trickled down their bleeding necks, faces pale with no speck of color, their ghostly figures moving toward Azariah, laughing creepily.

A hook emerged from their extended hand, which they implanted into his wrist.

Azariah pressed his lips tighter to stop himself from screaming as they dragged him close to Valcina.

“We brought him for you, Mother,” one of them croaked, making Azariah stand in front of her.

They pulled the hook, making him stumble forward.

“You are so kind to me, daughters,” Valcina smiled softly, gazing at them before her eyes landed on Azariah.

But her gaze quickly shifted back toward the glowing orb showing Ashlyn.

Her body had already absorbed the white mist, forming a cocoon around her.

“Gabriel’s incarnation,” she whispered, her yellowish eyes staring at her. “How amusing, finding you close to someone revered as the [Exiled Prince].”

“…Huff… Huff…”

Azariah’s ragged breath echoed in the room, making her glance at him.

She smiled softly, whispering, “Do you know Gabriel was the first archangel to die at the hands of a mortal?”

Azariah didn’t reply, his gaze downward, not even glancing at her, trying to avoid the terrible pain rushing to his head.

“Now, let’s take a look at you,” she mumbled, standing up from her throne and walking closer.

“Should we hang him up?” one of the ghostly figures asked.

“No, my daughter, let him be,” Valcina replied, observing Azariah.

Her hand flicked, and the upper clothes he was wearing shattered into nothingness, leaving his bare body exposed for her to see.

Valcina’s gaze shifted to his unfolding wings, a look of interest on her face.

“Well, well. Azariah Noah Aljanah,” she whispered, towering over his body. “You sure are unique.”

Her fingers trailed delicately on his skin before moving toward his side, touching the tattoo embedded on it.

“Let’s see how special you are,” she whispered softly, digging her fingers into his side.

She slowly retrieved her hand, and with it, a cluster of white started to emerge from his tattoo.

“Huh?” Azariah let out a startled voice, his gaze moving upward. “Willis?” he mumbled.

The cluster of white slowly formed into a young child, his lavender eyes darting around anxiously.

“…Dada.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at the tall lady gazing at him with a twisted smile.

“…Hey.” Azariah groaned weakly as she walked back toward her throne, carrying Willis.

“Hey! Leave him!” he yelled, glaring at her, even though his mind screamed in pain.

“Leave him!”

“Silence!” one of the ghostly figures pulled the hook tighter, making him groan.

“Hmm, a spirit with the ability for body manipulation,” Valcina whispered softly, looking at the terrified Willis. “He’s weak… is his power sealed?” she wondered aloud.

“Leave him alone!”

Azariah yelled, tearing the hook from his wrists.

…But he could only take a step forward before his knees buckled.

His shoulders slumped as if a heavy weight was placed on them.

“Know your place,” Valcina coldly whispered, looking down at him. “Don’t shout in front of a goddess.”

Gritting his teeth, Azariah looked up, glaring at her, ignoring the pain in his eyes.

The ghostly figures grabbed both his arms, pulling them back.

“I pity you,” she whispered, observing Willis, “…Those little arms and legs.”

“Can we eat him, Mother?” one of the figures asked, touching Azariah’s face. “His flesh feels delicious.”

“Not now.” Valcina denied, gazing at him from her throne. “…We still need him.”

They laughed. “As you say, Mother.”

“Now, Azariah,” she whispered, flicking her hand. Willis hovered high in the air. “Would you like to play a game?”

Azariah remained silent before he asked harshly, “…What game?”

“…A battle of concepts,” she replied, her smile widening.

“You know every god has their own world where they rule everything, even the concept of life and death.”

“…No.”

A weak protest escaped his mouth, his eyes trembling.

“Are you sure?” she asked, pointing up. “If you win, I’ll release both of them and Gabriel’s incarnation.”

He gazed upward—Willis and Tiffany were suspended in the air.

Noticing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued, “…Think it through. This is the only way you can walk out of here alive.”

Azariah bit his lips, looking down.

“The game is simple,” Valcina smiled softly.

“…One of us will live as prey and the other as predator. We fight with our lives, and the one who dies will be reborn as the predator of the previous one.”

“And how do we win this game?”

Valcina grinned. “By not losing our mind in the endless cycle of rebirth.”

“…..”

Azariah looked at her blankly.

…The game was completely against him.

“I’ll let you choose first,” Valcina whispered. “Will you be the prey or the predator?”