Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 226

Chapter 226: See You Again (5)
Ahcehera’s body healed faster than anyone had anticipated, thanks to a careful combination of Eros’s relentless care and the unparalleled capabilities of Interstellar medicine, but her soul moved at a pace far slower.

The sterile white of the medical chamber, the soft hums of energy restorers, and the flickering lights from monitoring devices became the rhythm of her days.

She rarely spoke, and when she did, her voice was soft, hollow, carrying the weight of something that had been shattered too deeply to ever return to its original shape.

Her parents, King Dan and Queen Tereza, arrived on the third day after her partial recovery, sweeping into the medical ward like a gust of wind, their presence regal, commanding, worried, and desperate all at once.

Her mother took her hand while her father stood stiffly at the side, but Ahcehera had looked at them not as a daughter reaching out for comfort but as a warrior ready to return to her post.

They wanted her back in Sirius Kingdom, safe within the palace walls, surrounded by guards, healers, and memories of a simpler time. But she declined without hesitation, her refusal sharp and cold. She told them she did not want to be disturbed.

Her voice had carried such finality that even her father, King Dan, had hesitated before pushing further. But there was no room left in Ahcehera’s heart for royal comfort or familial pleading. She was not that girl anymore.

War had sculpted her anew, and loss had carved deeper into her bones than any enemy blade. And so, they left. Not without reluctance, not without the broken-hearted gaze of a mother seeing her daughter fade into a stranger. But they understood enough to know they could not stop her.

She remained stationed on Xefier, though now her days were less filled with combat and more with strategic planning. Reports streamed into her chamber with regular updates on Zerg movements, planetary defenses, alliance shifts, and most importantly, the vague and ominous signs of the fourth demon god’s awakening.

Despite every sensor scan, every psychic probe, and every divination ritual performed by the Empire’s most gifted Seers, the exact location of the demon god’s rise remained shrouded in shadow. That uncertainty was what gnawed at Ahcehera more than her recovery.

Her body could heal. Her heart, she had accepted, may never. But to leave the galaxy vulnerable? That was a failure she would never allow. Even as she lay in bed, crystalline monitors displayed holographic images of galaxy-wide war zones.

She studied them with eyes that refused to blink, marking coordinates, issuing silent commands through neural links, and overseeing troop repositioning with the same composure that had earned her the title of the galaxy’s youngest senior strategist.

She spoke little to the officers who came in and out, but they all understood that silence did not mean absence. Ahcehera was very much present, just quieter now, colder, like a blade submerged in ice. Eros stayed, always at a respectful distance, but never far.

He no longer attempted to flood her with warmth or encouragement. Instead, he existed by her side, an anchor that didn’t need to be seen to be felt. Sometimes, in the quiet hours of dawn, she would look at him from across the chamber, his face lit by the soft blue glow of healing wards, and she would feel a flicker of gratitude she never voiced.

She knew what he had given to keep her alive. She also knew he had done it knowing she might never be the same again. And still, he stayed. One evening, a storm raged outside the reinforced walls of the base, winds thick with plasma, skies flashing with the electric fury of an unstable atmosphere.

Inside, Ahcehera sat in her chair, her hair cascading down her back like shadows spilled from the night sky. She listened to another war report, her fingers tapping against the armrest in an almost rhythmic pattern. The Zergs had attacked Station Helios again, and while casualties were lower this time, their growing numbers could no longer be ignored.

The thought that this rise was due to the energy leaking from the yet-unknown awakening site of the fourth demon god made her blood run colder than the frost that had settled in her veins after the severed bond.

She leaned forward, issuing a few commands, her voice clipped and firm. Once the officers left, she closed her eyes, letting the silence fill her again. A gentle knock echoed, and Eros stepped in, carrying a data crystal.

“New transmission from the Western Edge,” he said.

She held out her hand, and he placed it in her palm, his fingers brushing against hers for a moment too long. She didn’t pull away. That was new. The transmission revealed a strange spike in spiritual energy, unlike Zergs, unlike any known demonic creature, but also not entirely divine.

It was subtle but persistent, located near the red nebulae of the Ashian Belt. Her eyes narrowed. Could it be? Could that finally be the thread that would unravel the mystery behind the demon god’s location?

She tapped a command, sending the coordinates to the intelligence bureau. She would need confirmation, but her instincts were sharp. Too sharp to ignore. She looked up and met Eros’s gaze for the first time that day.

“Prepare a scouting team,” she said quietly. “I want eyes on the Ashian Belt.”

He nodded but lingered. “You should rest,” he said gently. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Her lips twitched, not quite a smile. “We don’t get to rest when the galaxy is cracking at the seams.”

“Even the stars need time to cool,” he replied, and for a heartbeat, something softened in her eyes. But it faded just as quickly.

She turned back to her monitors, eyes scanning the new readings. That night, she dreamed not of Rohzivaan, not of the life she lost, but of darkness swallowing light, of stars winking out one by one. And standing in the midst of it was a figure cloaked in black flame, its eyes like burning voids.

She awoke with a start, sweat trickling down her spine, her breath shallow. Was it just a dream, or was the demon god calling to her already? The ache in her chest had dulled, but it never disappeared.

Some days, she almost forgot the pain. Other days, it returned with a vengeance. But she no longer allowed herself to be ruled by it. She had purpose. She had war. She had a galaxy to protect.

And as long as the demon god remained free, as long as the Zergs kept breeding and devouring planets like fire consumes forests, she would not fall again. She would not shatter. Not until the job was done. Not until she made sure that what remained of the world she loved did not burn.