Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 223

Chapter 223: See You Again (2)
Richmond’s footsteps echoed through the long corridors of the hidden palace, his breath uneven and his chest tightening with urgency.

He burst through the steel doors of Rohzivaan’s chamber without waiting for permission, startling the man who stood in silence before a large circular window, where a view of a mechanical garden spun slowly in simulated orbit.

Rohzivaan didn’t turn immediately. He didn’t need to. He already knew Richmond wouldn’t have barged in unless something serious had happened.

“It’s the Western Region,” Richmond said, voice low but trembling. “They’ve been breached.”

Rohzivaan slowly turned, his eyes unreadable yet visibly dimmer than they once were. The silence that followed was thick and heavy. Richmond stepped forward, activating the main holotable in the room. Light sparked to life, and a panoramic three-dimensional image of the Western Region unfolded before them.

Planet after planet flickered red. Xefier, one of the frontline defense worlds, blinked with warning signals. Battle reports streamed beside it. Casualties, estimated Zerg counts, missing fleets, fallen outposts. Rohzivaan clenched his fists silently.

The images showed fleets deploying from Sirius Kingdom, mechas launching from hangars, and warships burning in orbit. But what pulled both of their attention was the zoomed-in footage of ground combat, of one woman standing amidst the carnage.

Her white hair shone against the blackened sky, her blade carving through a swarm of Zergs with unparalleled grace. Even under layers of tactical armor, her identity was unmistakable. Princess Ahcehera Bloodstone.

Rohzivaan took a step closer to the projection, eyes locked on her face. She was still alive. Still fighting. Still bearing the burdens that never should have been hers alone.

“She’s stationed in Xefier,” Richmond murmured, his voice no louder than a whisper. “They’re calling it the final bastion of the Western line. If Xefier falls, the entire quadrant collapses.”

Rohzivaan’s jaw tightened. “And the cause?”

“The awakening,” Richmond confirmed grimly. “The fourth demon god. Its presence alone is enough to bend the laws of reality in the region. Zergs are multiplying at a rate faster than our systems can calculate. Even the Sirius weapons can’t hold them back without heavier casualties.”

The holotable shifted again, this time showing the energy surges in the quadrant. Leaks of power glowed deep violet, forming veins across the stars. They weren’t just random anomalies, they were coming from somewhere. Or someone.

“But we don’t know where it is,” Richmond continued. “No one’s seen the fourth demon god yet. But its power is everywhere. It’s altering the terrain, the atmosphere, even the creatures. We’re not just fighting zergs now, we’re fighting something that mutates and adapts.”

Rohzivaan didn’t move. He simply stared at Ahcehera’s image frozen on the screen, her figure mid-swing as she slaughtered a Zerg three times her size. “She’s leading them,” he whispered.

“Of course she is,” Richmond said, looking away. “She wouldn’t sit back and watch this happen. That’s not who she is.”

Silence again.

The kind that scraped at Rohzivaan’s soul like rusted knives. It had been months and days of watching from afar, hiding in the shadows with Fiorensia, keeping his distance not because he wanted to but because he had to.

Because his existence, born of demonic lineage and secrets too dangerous to surface, could destroy everything she had worked to protect. The demon inside him stirred, sensing his unrest, the pain that twisted in his gut every time her name was mentioned, every time he saw her face flicker in the war reports.

Richmond stepped beside him. “You still love her, don’t you?”

Rohzivaan didn’t respond. His silence was answer enough.

“Then why… why do you let her suffer alone?”

The question wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t judgmental. It was a brother asking another brother why he’d chosen the path of isolation when the person he loved stood in the eye of a galactic storm. Rohzivaan turned slowly, finally meeting Richmond’s gaze.

“Because I am not the person she remembers,” he said. “I am not just her mate. I am the son of a demon queen. I was born in blood, darkness, and cursed power. If I step into the battlefield… I might awaken something even worse. And then it won’t be the Zergs we have to fear.”

Richmond looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. “But you’re also the one who understands what we’re truly facing. Your blood connects you to them. If anyone can predict how this demon god thinks, it’s you.”

Rohzivaan shook his head. “I won’t risk it. Not until I have control. Not until I know I won’t lose myself.”

Richmond opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. The flicker of pain in Rohzivaan’s eyes, the depth of guilt and restraint. It said more than any explanation could.

“She’ll die out there,” Richmond said quietly. “Not today. But one day. If she continues facing all of this alone.”

Rohzivaan said nothing. He simply turned back to the projection. The feed had resumed, now showing Ahcehera leading a charge of Sirius mecha warriors, blasting through mutated Zerg lines with impeccable precision.

Her armor was stained, one side torn from a previous fight, but her expression never faltered. She wasn’t just fighting for survival. She was fighting for everyone who couldn’t.

Richmond walked to the table, keyed in a few codes, and pulled up a deeper report on the demon energy spread. “There’s a pattern,” he murmured. “We’ve been so focused on the Zergs that we haven’t realized, these veins of energy, they’re forming a path. Like roots spreading toward something buried.”

Rohzivaan’s eyes narrowed. “A seal,” he said. “Or a prison.” “Or an altar,” Richmond added grimly. “Whatever it is, they’re feeding it. Preparing for something. And the fourth demon god is just the beginning.”

The room grew colder. The idea that something even worse than the current enemy was waiting, preparing was not far-fetched in a galaxy already on the edge of collapse.

Finally, Rohzivaan stepped away from the projection. His breath was shallow. His hands were trembling. He felt like he was breaking inside. “I can’t go to her,” he said again, softer this time. “But I will find a way to help.”

“And what about her?” Richmond asked. “Doesn’t she deserve to know the truth?”

“The truth will only bring her more pain,” Rohzivaan replied. “Let her believe I died a noble death. Let her hate me, mourn me, curse me. Anything is better than seeing me like this, a monster forced to walk the edge of ruin.”

Richmond’s heart twisted at the words. He didn’t agree. But he didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. So, instead, he looked back at the war feed.

Ahcehera stood again, this time atop a damaged cruiser, her voice ringing through the comms as she gave orders, inspiring courage to those still standing. She was radiant. Fearless. The last flame against the dark.

Rohzivaan whispered, almost to himself, “See you again… maybe in another life.” And the chamber went silent again, the storm of war echoing through the stars.