Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 177

Chapter 177: Sleep
The demon god wandered the world for centuries, blending in with mortals once more.

He took on the appearance of a quiet, ordinary young man, his dark eyes heavy with grief, his once vibrant heart dulled by loss.

He kept his power suppressed, never drawing attention to himself. Decades turned to centuries, yet nothing seemed to change.

The world moved on, kingdoms rose and fell, but the demon god felt like a shadow, forgotten, drifting aimlessly.

One day, while resting in a quiet village nestled in the hills, he found himself sitting beneath an old maple tree.

The wind rustled its leaves, and the laughter of children echoed in the distance. He watched them chase each other, their smiles bright and their voices carefree.

For a fleeting moment, he felt warmth, not from the sun, but from a memory. The memory of her.

He closed his eyes and let himself forget everything, the pain, the loneliness, the power that had once consumed him. He just wanted to sleep. And so he did.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into years, and the world forgot him.

Grass grew over his resting place, and vines wrapped around his still form like nature itself was trying to bury him.

Seasons passed, and the village became a town, then a city. People walked by without noticing the forgotten figure beneath the tree, just another statue to them, worn and faded by time.

But his slumber was not peaceful. In his dreams, he was haunted by visions, a whispering voice that coiled around his mind like a snake.

It spoke of vengeance, of blood, of kingdoms falling beneath his feet. It told him that the world had betrayed him, that mortals had forgotten what they owed him.

The voice promised power, the power to reshape the world, to take what had been denied from him.

It whispered that she, his beloved, could return if only he claimed what was rightfully his. For years, he resisted. But the whispers never stopped. And then, one day, the earth trembled.

Deep beneath the surface, in the forgotten roots of the world, something ancient stirred.

The demon god’s eyes shot open, and for the first time in centuries, his breath left him in a cold, jagged gasp.

He stood, brushing away the tangled vines that clung to him. His once youthful face was now sharp and gaunt, his skin pale as frost.

The air seemed colder around him, and shadows stretched unnaturally in his presence. The voice inside his mind chuckled darkly. “You’ve finally woken up,” it sneered.

The demon god’s gaze swept across the land, but this was no longer the world he remembered.

Towering spires loomed where forests once stood, and the distant hum of strange machines filled the air.

Mortals had grown arrogant in his absence, building cities that dared to pierce the sky.

He clenched his fist, and the air around him twisted, dark tendrils curling from his fingertips. He could feel his power pulsing beneath his skin, stronger than before, darker than ever.

But before he could take another step, a flicker of warmth brushed against his mind, a memory not from the voice of vengeance, but from her.

He remembered her laughter, her smile, the way she had cared for him even when she believed he was nothing more than a lost soul.

The rage inside him wavered, but the voice in his mind growled louder.

“Why hesitate?” it taunted. “They destroyed your peace. They forgot you. They deserve to burn.”

His fingers twitched, and the air around him darkened once more. The voice was right, the world had moved on, forgetting the pain he endured, the love he lost.

Why should he show mercy? Yet her face lingered in his mind, her voice, soft and gentle, whispering “You’re better than this.”

He staggered back, pressing a trembling hand to his chest. Memories swirled, her kindness, her rejection, her death.

“I couldn’t save you,” he whispered.

His voice cracked, and for a moment, the demon god, the being who once wielded the power to destroy worlds, felt powerless.

But before he could collect himself, a presence stirred nearby. A group of hooded figures stood at the edge of the clearing.

Their eyes glowed faintly with crimson light, and symbols of twisted runes marked their robes. The air vibrated with corrupted energy, dark magic twisted and unstable.

One of them stepped forward, kneeling before the demon god.

“Lord of the Void,” the figure rasped, “We have awaited your return.”

The demon god’s gaze turned cold. “Who are you?”

“We are your devotees,” the figure replied. “For centuries, we have kept your name alive. We sacrificed blood, bodies, and souls to ensure your awakening.”

The demon god’s expression remained unreadable. “And what do you expect in return?”

The figure grinned wickedly. “We only wish for you to lead us, to bring ruin upon those who have forgotten their place.”

“Mortals grow bold, their kingdoms prosper while you were buried beneath the earth. They think they are safe.”

The voice in his mind hissed approvingly.

“Take their offer,” it urged. “They can help you find what you’ve lost.”

But the demon god’s gaze lingered on the ground where he had slept, where memories of her still clung to the earth.

“I need no followers,” he said coldly. “And I need no vengeance.”

The figure’s face twisted with disbelief. “But my lord…”

A flick of the demon god’s hand sent the man flying into a nearby tree. The others scrambled back in fear as he advanced, his shadow stretching out like a living beast.

“I am no one’s lord,” the demon god said, his voice like a winter storm. “Go back to your caves. If I find you worshipping me again…”

His fingers twitched, and the air crackled with dark energy. “I will destroy you myself.”

The figures fled, leaving the demon god alone once more. He turned back to the maple tree, to the place where her memory still lingered.

“I’m tired,” he whispered to the wind. “But if there’s a reason I woke up…”

His gaze hardened.

“…then I’ll find it.”

And with that, the demon god vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faint whisper of his presence behind.