Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 175

Chapter 175: What’s Mine
Legends spoke of him as a force of nature, an unstoppable calamity that erased entire worlds.

But beneath the crown of jagged obsidian and the skeletal wings that dripped with endless darkness, a part of the boy still lingered, buried beneath hatred, yet never silenced.

For even as the Demon God rose to become the leader of the Void, a being of incomprehensible power, the words from that cursed letter echoed in his mind.

“You are a failure.”

No matter how much destruction he wrought, no matter how many lives he claimed, the void inside him never faded.

The boy’s grief had twisted into an endless hunger, a hunger to prove that he was not weak, that he was not powerless.

And so, the Demon God continued his path of annihilation, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake, a broken soul desperately seeking a vengeance that could never fill the emptiness that consumed him.

–

Though he had ascended as a Demon God, he chose not to rule as a tyrant over the mortals.

Instead, he lived among them, walking their streets, breathing their air, and blending into their world as if he were one of them.

He had long since learned to suppress his overwhelming aura, disguising himself as an ordinary young man, his features unremarkable, his presence forgettable.

The mortals never suspected that beneath his gentle smile and soft-spoken demeanor lurked a power capable of unmaking the stars.

For centuries, he wandered from kingdom to kingdom, from village to village, living countless lives under different names. He dined with kings and drank with beggars.

He was a scholar in one lifetime, a wandering musician in another. But despite all he experienced, his heart remained untouched, unfeeling, unreachable.

No mortal intrigued him. They were fleeting, fragile things, their lives as ephemeral as falling leaves. None had ever left an impression upon him.

Until he met her.

It was an ordinary evening in the city of Khaelan. Lanterns illuminated the streets, their warm glow reflecting off the cobblestone paths.

Laughter echoed in the air, the scent of grilled meat and fragrant wine weaving through the bustling night market. He had been passing through, idly observing, when he saw her.

She was unlike anyone he had ever encountered. There was no otherworldly aura about her, no divine beauty to set her apart from the rest, and yet… his gaze lingered.

She was the beloved daughter of a high-ranking officer, raised with the utmost care and adoration. Her family treasured her, protecting her like a pearl resting in their palms.

Yet, despite being the cherished jewel of her household, she was not delicate.

She moved with confidence, her laughter light yet full of spirit, as though nothing in the world could ever break her.

For the first time in countless years, he felt something unfamiliar stir within him, curiosity.

It was a mere whim that led him to drink that night. Demons did not get drunk, but he allowed himself to play the part.

He let his steps falter, let his body grow heavy as if the wine had truly taken hold of him. He wanted to see what would happen. And she… she had been the one to catch him.

She thought he was just another drunkard, a foolish young man who had consumed too much wine. With a sigh, she had helped him off the street, half-dragging him to an inn.

He watched through lidded eyes as she cared for him, her fingers brushing against his forehead as she muttered complaints about how men always overestimated their tolerance for alcohol.

Then, before dawn could break, she left. She did not stay to hear his thanks, did not linger to see if he would wake.

No words were exchanged. She simply vanished with the morning light, as if the entire encounter had meant nothing to her. But it meant something to him.

Something unexplainable had taken root in his heart that night. He began to notice her everywhere.

Not because he sought her out, but because fate seemed to weave their paths together.

Again and again, they met, not as lovers, not as friends, but as two people caught in a pattern neither of them understood. Each time, it was she who saved him.

A runaway carriage nearly trampled him, she had pulled him back. A foolish street brawl erupted around him, she had shielded him.

Even in the most absurd of situations, she was always the one protecting him. It amused him. It fascinated him. And slowly, his fascination twisted into something else.

It was no longer mere curiosity.

It was attachment.

It was obsession.

He needed to have her.

No mortal had ever captivated him like this. Her laughter, her warmth, her strength, he wanted to possess it all.

He wanted to be the only one in her world, the only one she looked at, the only one she reached for. So, he asked for her hand in marriage.

It was not a grand confession. There was no poetry in his words, no trembling uncertainty. He was the Demon God, after all, he did not ask for what he desired, he simply took.

And yet, for her, he made an exception. He knelt before her, offered her a life beyond imagining, whispered that he would give her the world if she asked for it.

She did not hesitate.

She did not blush or fluster.

She simply smiled, as if she had expected this all along, and said, “I am already engaged.”

The words sliced through him, sharper than any blade.

He did not understand. How could she be engaged? How could she choose someone else? Had she not seen him? Had she not felt what he felt? Something inside him cracked.

He watched as she spoke so casually of another man, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

She did not realize the weight of what she had done. She did not see the darkness coiling behind his gaze, the storm raging within his chest.

He had never experienced rejection before. Not once. Not in all the lifetimes he had lived. The concept was foreign to him, inconceivable.

And yet, here she was, smiling at him with kindness, utterly unaware that she had just shattered something he did not know could be broken.

He should have let go.

He should have walked away.

But obsession was a slow, creeping poison, and it had already seeped into every corner of his soul.

She would not escape him.

Not now.

Not ever.