Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 163

Chapter 163: Nights of Hardship (Special Chapter)
The dense, twilight-hued trees of Bianzion loomed over Alexander and his company like silent sentinels, their ancient trunks twisting toward the sky in grotesque formations.

The air was thick with the scent of damp moss, faintly laced with something acrid, something unnatural.

At first, the expedition had been filled with a sense of excitement and purpose, to capture a mighty beast worthy of a prince.

A war pet, one that could serve as a symbol of strength for the Vancial bloodline. But as they ventured deeper into the forest, reality twisted.

Time became an illusion, the days melting into nights without transition. The sun never fully rose nor fully set, leaving the forest bathed in an eerie half-light.

Shadows moved where they shouldn’t have, creeping along the undergrowth like living creatures. A terrible hunger gnawed at their stomachs.

Water from their canteens did nothing to quench their thirst, and even when they hunted small animals, the meat dissolved into dust upon touching their tongues.

Alexander pressed on, his grip tightening around the hilt of his enchanted blade. His body felt heavy, exhaustion creeping into his bones like venom.

The soldiers around him began faltering.

One man fell. He gasped, his breath ragged, clawing at his own throat as though something unseen strangled him. Then another collapsed, trembling, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

They tried to press forward, dragging the fallen along, but the deeper they went, the more accidents occurred.

A soldier tripped over an unseen root, and before he could rise, a black vine shot out of the earth and wrapped around his ankle, yanking him into the darkness.

His screams faded quickly, as though the forest swallowed him whole.

Another soldier walked into a dense fog and never returned. The mist devoured him, his last words a strangled, confused whisper: “Your Highness… help…”

Alexander gritted his teeth, ignoring the despair creeping into his men’s expressions. “Keep moving,” he ordered, his voice hoarse from dehydration.

But his men no longer responded with the same loyalty and strength as before. Their gazes turned hollow, their bodies weakened by the cursed hunger.

Then, on the fifth day, the hallucinations began. Alexander first saw them in the trees, figures with glowing, star-like eyes, watching him from between the gnarled branches.

They whispered his name, their voices laced with both familiarity and menace. His soldiers saw worse things.

One man dropped his sword and began sobbing, claiming to see his dead mother. Another ran screaming into the thicket, convinced that the trees were closing in on them.

The forest had a will of its own. It fed off their exhaustion, their despair, their dwindling sanity. But Alexander refused to kneel.

He tore a strip from his sleeve and tied it around his eyes, shutting out the illusions. He forced himself to remember who he was, his lineage, his duty.

If he let himself fall into weakness, he would never leave this place alive.

When he removed the blindfold hours later, only seven soldiers remained. The rest had vanished or succumbed to the forest’s torment.

His heart clenched, but he did not stop. And then, on the seventh day, he heard it.

A deep, resonant growl, vibrating through the very air itself. The sound of something ancient, something that had lived within Bianzion since the dawn of time.

The beast he had come to find.

It stood at the clearing ahead, massive and regal, its fur black as the abyss, streaked with silver veins that pulsed like flowing rivers of starlight.

Its eyes glowed like molten gold, filled with intelligence far beyond any mere creature.

A Celestial Dreadbeast.

Alexander took a slow breath, his trembling fingers gripping his sword. He had endured starvation, illusions, and death itself for this moment. And the battle was just beginning.

The Celestial Dreadbeast stood motionless, its golden eyes fixed upon Alexander with an eerie, knowing stare. It did not attack, nor did it flee.

It simply watched, as if weighing his worth, as if deciding whether he was worthy to stand before it.

The remaining soldiers trembled behind him, barely able to hold their weapons. Their bodies were thin, their eyes sunken from hunger and exhaustion.

One of them whispered, “Your Highness… this is suicide.”

But Alexander knew better. This was no ordinary beast. This was a creature of ancient power, one that had seen generations come and go.

It would not be defeated by mere steel or brute strength. It had to be tamed.

Summoning what strength remained in his weary body, Alexander stepped forward. His breath was shallow, his limbs weak, but his voice was unwavering as he spoke.

“I have come for you.”

The Dreadbeast exhaled, the sheer force of its breath causing the trees around them to sway.

A wave of unseen energy rippled through the clearing. The sky darkened. The shadows stretched unnaturally long.

Then… it moved.

The beast lunged with terrifying speed, its massive claws swiping toward Alexander like streaks of black lightning.

He barely managed to roll aside, feeling the wind of its attack graze his cheek. He did not hesitate.

With a sharp twist of his wrist, he slashed upward with his sword, the enchanted blade glowing with the remnants of his fading magic. The blade connected, but only barely.

The Dreadbeast twisted in midair, its body vanishing into a blur of darkness, reforming behind him in a heartbeat. It was toying with him.

Alexander gritted his teeth, forcing his weary body to move. He had not endured seven days of torment to die here. If he fell, if he failed, his people would never escape this forest.

He had to win.

He tightened his grip on his sword and let go of hesitation. No more second-guessing. No more thinking about the men he had lost. Right now, there was only him and the beast.

The Dreadbeast lunged again, and this time, Alexander met it head-on.

He leaped, twisting his body midair, slashing toward its exposed flank. But the beast was fast, too fast.

It dodged, countering with a sweep of its massive tail, sending him flying backward into the trees.

Pain exploded through his ribs. He coughed, tasting blood. The Dreadbeast stalked forward, its golden eyes glowing brighter. A silent challenge.

Alexander wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled.

“If you want my life,” he muttered under his breath, planting his sword into the ground to steady himself. “You’ll have to fight harder than that.”

The beast growled, its entire body tensing. And the real battle began.