Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Dragon’s Heart
Ahcehera sat in her quarters on Planet Talven-9, the flickering glow of the stasis lanterns casting elongated shadows across the cold steel walls.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of her optical brain processing incoming battle reports.

But her eyes were fixed on the small, carefully wrapped package on her desk. The seal had already been broken, whoever sent it had not bothered with secrecy.

With steady fingers, she unwrapped the layers of protective fabric, revealing the necklace within.

The moment she touched it, a wave of heat pulsed through her palm, like the slow breath of a slumbering beast.

The deep crimson gemstone glowed in the dim light, its surface smooth as liquid fire, yet holding an unmistakable sense of restrained power.

It was the heart of a dragon, an artifact of immeasurable force, one that whispered of control and dominion.

Encased in an intricate lattice of black-tinted metal, the gem pulsed like something alive, waiting for its master to call upon its true strength.

A delicate yet distinct scent wafted from the necklace, lotus flower beast, an aroma both alluring and deceptive.

Ahcehera’s lips curled into a cold smile. Of course, she recognized the scent. Lotus flowers in the Andromeda Galaxy were nothing like their fragile Earth counterparts.

Here, they were carnivorous, capable of consuming creatures twice their size, their beauty merely a trap for the unwary.

She tilted her head, letting the necklace dangle between her fingers, the weight of it unnatural for something so small. It was a gift, no, a message.

“Sometimes, it’s so hard to pretend,” she murmured to herself.

Pretend to be what, exactly?

The benevolent princess?

The kingdom’s most trusted senior strategist?

The mate of the Northern Duke’s heir?

The daughter and sister of the Bloodstone royal family?

How amusing.

The truth was, Ahcehera had never truly been any of those things. She played her roles well, her masks so perfectly crafted that even those closest to her failed to see beyond them.

Compassionate, harmless, dutiful, how easily people believed what they wanted to believe.

Her thumb ran over the surface of the dragon’s heart, feeling the thrum of restrained energy beneath her touch.

This was a relic of the ancient world, a power that could shift the tides of war.

In the hands of a righteous ruler, it could summon and command beasts of legend, forming an unbreakable bond between man and creature.

In the hands of one who sought dominance, however, it could be something else entirely. Ahcehera was neither righteous nor wicked. She simply was.

Her eyes flickered toward the reports spread across her desk, data on the latest Zerg incursion, supply shortages, and planetary defenses barely holding together.

This war was not one of noble ideals or blind patriotism. It was survival. And in the end, only the strongest would endure.

She let out a quiet breath, her fingers tightening around the necklace. It was ironic, wasn’t it? That those who feared her villainy had no idea just how much she restrained herself.

If they knew what she was truly capable of, would they still praise her? Would they still whisper about the brilliant, unyielding strategist who always found a way?

Or would they cower, realizing that their beloved princess had never needed their protection?

A sudden chime from her optical brain interrupted her thoughts. A transmission request.

She activated the holographic interface, and a projection flickered to life before her. Joseph, her most trusted lieutenant, appeared, his expression tense.

“Commander, we have another breach in the western perimeter. The Zerg are evolving again. Higher intelligence. We’ve lost contact with Outpost Theta.”

Ahcehera’s expression remained impassive, but inside, calculations were already running at terrifying speed.

She had seen this pattern before, every time they adapted, the battles grew bloodier.

“Deploy the second battalion to contain them. I’ll handle the strategy from here,” she ordered.

“Understood, Commander.” Joseph hesitated. “Also… there’s been another sighting of the new officer. The one you had me keep an eye on.”

Ahcehera raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Joseph shifted uncomfortably. “He fought alone against the Zerg tide. The reports say he took down an entire cluster by himself. Unscathed.”

Silence stretched between them. Ahcehera tapped her fingers against the desk, her mind piecing together possibilities.

The power to single-handedly annihilate a Zerg swarm was not something ordinary soldiers possessed.

“Interesting,” she murmured. “Keep watching him.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The transmission ended, leaving Ahcehera alone once more. Her gaze drifted back to the necklace.

For a moment, she allowed herself to remember, faint memories of childhood, of running through the Bloodstone palace with laughter in her ears, of the warmth of a family she once believed in.

But the memories held no weight anymore.

The moment she had been abandoned on Dexa, the moment she had spent a year clawing her way through despair, something inside her had shattered.

If the dragon’s heart had fallen into someone else’s hands, she might have considered it a dangerous artifact. But in her hands? It was merely a tool. A means to an end.

She placed the necklace around her neck, feeling the pulse of power settle against her skin. She did not need it, not yet, but she would keep it close.

As she stood, the cold smile returned to her lips.

Ahcehera was not a hero. She was not a savior.

She was simply the one who would win.

Ahcehera adjusted the dragon’s heart against her collarbone, the weight settling in as if it had always belonged there.

The warmth of the gem pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, a reminder of what it was capable of, what she was capable of.

The air in her quarters was still, yet the unspoken tension of war loomed beyond these walls.

She moved toward the reinforced window, gazing at the vast, barren lands of Planet Talven-9.

The sky was dark, painted with the distant glow of orbital battles and the faint flicker of mecha units patrolling the perimeter.

Somewhere out there, her soldiers fought, bled, and died.

Ahcehera exhaled slowly. War had no fairness. No mercy. No justice.

Her fingers brushed the cool metal of her optical brain as she summoned a map of the Zerg movements.

She would carve through them, crush every enemy that threatened what was hers. Her golden eyes gleamed under the dim light.

“Sometimes, it’s so hard to pretend.”

But she had been pretending for too long. The benevolent strategist, the devoted mate, the obedient daughter, masks she wore too well.

A small, knowing smirk touched her lips. Perhaps it was time to stop pretending.