Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 241

Chapter 241: [Festival Of Love] [9] [Truth]
A bizarre feeling rose within Azariah’s mind as he looked at the woman wearing a maid’s dress.

She had an ordinary face which wasn’t anything special along with plain black hair and eyes that stared down at his child self with warmth.

“…Sypha,” Azariah whispered quietly as anger flared deep within him.

His mind reminding him, how she crushed his entire childhood.

His chest felt heavy and his breathing uneven as he glared at the woman who quietly walked towards his child self with a smile.

“You did a great job saving them, young master,” Sypha whispered softly as she helped ‘his’ pale body.

The child Azariah calmed at her words, ‘his’ expression melting as relief washed over his body, relaxing him.

But as he registered her words, his childlike expression broke, and he turned, “S-Shane?”

His childlike body crawled toward Shane’s body, which had turned incredibly cold.

The one single strike from Taishareth was enough to snatch enough of his life to leave him paralyzed.

“S-Shane?” Azariah whispered, shaking his body, small droplets of tears trickling down his face.

He raised his hands to use his life source again, but he couldn’t.

…His body wasn’t capable enough to do so.

“…Az?” Shane whispered, his breath uneven and his voice filled with pain.

“S-Shane.” Azariah whispered, shakily walking closer to him.

“Don’t you think you should save the rest first, young master?” Sypha’s voice echoed from behind. “There are people who are coming after them.”

And like a mindless being, Azariah followed her words as he stood up.

Shane could do nothing but just watch.

Walking closer, Azariah slowly dragged Shyamal close to Arianell and Ashlyn.

Taking out an orb-like thing from his pocket, he placed it between them.

A semi-circle translucent barrier formed around them, protecting them from anyone below Overlord rank.

But, much to his dismay, it only covered Shyamal and Arianell.

“…Ashlyn?” Azariah crawled towards her, shaking her weakly.

“…You need to save her, young master,” Sypha’s voice echoed once again as she stood behind him. “…You need to save everyone.”

The child Azariah blankly nodded as he picked Ashlyn up and ran out of the building.

…Sypha slowly walked behind him with a warm smile.

“…..”

And Azariah, who was watching the scene unfolding in front of him, felt his reality breaking once again.

He wasn’t sad or angry but disappointed.

…Disappointed in himself for not realizing it sooner.

‘So it wasn’t an illusion.’

He thought to himself, rubbing his temples in frustration.

He always thought when he saved Ashlyn and the others, it was his own choice.

And even though he remembered hearing Sypha or Aunt Belly’s voice at that time…

…He always thought it was nothing but an illusion.

For him, Aunt Belly was like a mother…

…And what kind of mother would send her child into months of torture?

“A-Azariah?” He turned to look at Shyamal, whose tears kept streaming down, “W-Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

…He sighed, shaking his head in response.

A few minutes of silence passed as Shane was now just at the brink of death.

The door swung open again as Azariah walked inside.

His breathing was ragged, a deep horizontal cut running down his back.

“….”

Azariah remembered how he got that.

When he tried to bring Ashlyn to safety, some assailants attempted to attack him.

One of them managed to cut his back, but they couldn’t catch him.

And when he returned after entrusting Ashlyn to Oliver so he could bring her to a safe place…

…He found their dead bodies.

‘It all makes sense now,’ he thought as he looked at Sypha walking behind him.

Azariah, who was close to dying, crawled toward Shane.

“Why didn’t you save him, young master?” Sypha asked, her voice whispering in his ears. “…You could have saved him, yet you didn’t.”

“W-what h-have I-I d-done?” The trembling voice of the boy echoed within the room.

Azariah’s memories reminded him of when Inder first arrived in this world.

He saw the same thing happening again.

“Come out.” Having had enough of this, Azariah whispered coldly, “…Naraka.”

His right hand glowed in a specific crimson pattern, which turned into a viscous liquid.

The liquid shifted, turning into a large, one-handed axe with two sharp, spear-like points emerging from the base of the crescent blade.

Azariah raised his hand along with the weapon.

In the real world, he couldn’t fathom lifting it because of its weight, but here, he could fully control it.

His hand moved.

Naraka sliced through the illusion, dispersing everything into wavy black threads.

“Stay close to me.”

Azariah whispered as he grabbed onto Shyamal, and the world around them twisted.

In the next instant, they found themselves in an open field, surrounded by emptiness.

But a blink later, everything turned crimson.

The cries of young girls filled the space, and plants resembling sunflowers emerged from the ground, each with a twisted, human-like face.

Azariah looked up at the sky—a single crimson moon hung in it, letting its eerie light flood the area.

“…Where are we?” Shyamal asked as she got a hold of herself.

“…In your mind.” Azariah replied, and the Andarnaur’s ring within him resonated with something high above.

Azariah’s gaze remained fixed on the moon, and sensing the same presence, Shyamal looked up too.

The moonlight collapsed and converged, changing form.

Its twisting light seemed to create a body embodying eternal corruption.

A pair of eyes were the first to emerge, coldly focused on Azariah.

The moonlight stretched, forming limbs and a head, shaping itself into a shadowy female.

Azariah’s scalp tingled, and a tear of blood trickled down his eye.

But unlike him, Shyamal remained unchanged, looking up at ‘her.’

A being so massive, she dwarfed everything, making them look like ants.

But Azariah, with his experience of her divinity, knew she wasn’t real, merely a projection of her true self.

…Taishareth.

“…Az.” Shyamal whispered, making him turn to look at her.

Her body was slowly turning into particles as they began vanishing from the place.

“You’ll be fine,” Azariah replied with a light smile. “Don’t worry.”

Her body vanished as soon as his words ended.

“…Why?” An eternal voice echoed throughout, threatening to break Azariah’s mind.

Everything around them turned silent at Taishareth’s cold yet curious tone.

“Why deny her destiny?” She asked again, her gemstone-like green eyes boring into Azariah.

Suppressing his fear, Azariah replied, masking a facade of calmness, “…Her destiny isn’t death.”

“We both know it is.” She replied, gazing at his hand holding Sabaoth’s weapon. “…Interfering with one’s destiny will only bring more misery.”

“I don’t care.” Azariah growled, gripping the crimson axe tightly. “I won’t let her die—”

“How long are you going to protect her?” Taishareth’s cold voice cut in, “…How long can she hide?”

“…”

Azariah bit his lip, unable to rebuke her words.

Even though he wanted to deny it, he knew she spoke the truth.

“You saved her this time.” Her voice continued, a clear mockery in her tone.

“…But what about the next awakening? You don’t think I would make the same mistake again, do you?”

“…”

Azariah quietly looked at her without a word.

Blood now dripped from his nose.

“Even if by some miracle she survived her every awakening…” Her voice continued, dripping with mockery. “That weak-minded girl could never win against me.”

“…You can’t kill her—”

“…Her death is inevitable.” Her voice echoed again as the world began to shatter. “…All you’re doing is delaying it—”

“She is mine.” Azariah firmly cut her off, glaring at her. “…And I won’t let you kill her.”

Taishareth turned silent, the world around them continuing to fracture into countless smaller pieces.

“We’ll see how you will achieve that.” She finally whispered after a long pause. “…Anastasia’s last hope.”

The world around them broke apart, turning into countless particles.

Azariah’s mind went blank once again.

…

…

…

“Haah!”

Azariah took a deep breath as he found himself back in reality.

His headache made him frown as he massaged his temples to ease the pain.

“Shyamal.”

He whispered softly as he shifted his torso to sit up.

Everything looked the same as it did before he blanked out, except the black, sinister threads were nowhere to be found.

He turned to his side, where Shyamal was—encased in a transparent cocoon.

Getting back on his feet, he quickly approached her.

Using his hands, he tore up the cocoon until he could reach her.

“Shyamal.”

Azariah whispered as he pulled her out.

“Argh.”

He groaned as he stumbled back, her unconscious body falling over him.

Placing his head on her chest, Azariah checked her heartbeat.

“…Sigh.”

A sigh escaped his mouth as he felt her slow yet steady heartbeat.

He lay on the ground, holding her as he looked up at the clear sky.

But his expression hardened as he raised his head a bit.

“…What are you doing?” Christina’s cold voice echoed as she looked down at him.

Azariah sighed once again and mumbled tiredly, “…I need some rest.”