Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 45

Chapter 45: The Wild (4)

Ahcehera’s mind raced. Those moves… They’re from the Imperial Combat Manual! But how? That technique is restricted to members of the royal family and their elite guards.

Her grip tightened on her weapon, but she didn’t interfere. She needed to see more, to confirm her suspicions.

Richard’s next strike was even more telling. He leaped into the air, his body spinning as he delivered a shot directly to the creature’s head.

The precision, the power, it wasn’t just skill. It was mastery.

The beast let out a final, guttural cry before collapsing to the ground. Richard landed lightly on his feet, barely breaking a sweat.

Ahcehera stepped out of the shadows, her eyes narrowing as she approached him. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

Richard turned to her, his mismatched eyes unreadable. “I don’t know. It just… felt natural.”

Her gaze hardened. “Those moves aren’t ‘natural.’ They’re exclusive to the royal family. Care to explain?”

Richard’s expression flickered for a moment, confusion, perhaps even fear, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“I told you, I don’t know. Maybe it’s something I picked up unconsciously.”

Ahcehera crossed her arms, her mind working through the implications. There was no way he could “unconsciously” replicate techniques that took years of training to master.

“We’ll talk about this later,” she said, her voice firm. “For now, let’s move. This place isn’t safe.”

Richard nodded, but the tension between them was palpable as they gathered their belongings and prepared to leave.

Ahcehera couldn’t shake the feeling that Richard was hiding something, or that something far more complicated was hidden within him.

–

Richard’s mind was a chaotic mess, his thoughts drifting aimlessly like leaves caught in a storm.

Am I the real Richard?

He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. The night they arrived in the wilderness, everything had seemed normal, well, as normal as their situation could be.

But as soon as he closed his eyes, he was plunged into something far from ordinary.

A dream.

No, not a dream. It was more like an endless labyrinth of fragmented memories.

In this strange realm, he found himself running, always running. His feet carried him through a hazy timeline of events that didn’t belong to him.

He was a child, then an adolescent, then an adult, his form shifting fluidly with each passing moment.

Doors.

Countless doors appeared in his path, each one distinct yet ominous. He pushed through them one by one, unable to stop, unable to turn back.

Behind each door lay scenes that blurred the lines between reality and illusion, glimpses of lives he had never lived.

Until he reached the final door.

This one was different.

It loomed tall and foreboding, its surface as black as the abyss. Tendrils of shadow seemed to writhe and twist around it, and an inexplicable chill crept down his spine.

It was terrifying, but something compelled him forward.

He reached out, his hand trembling as it met the cold, unyielding surface. The door creaked open, revealing an overwhelming flood of memories.

Not his memories.

They poured into him, an unrelenting torrent of someone else’s life. He saw the world through the eyes of another, a perspective both intimate and alien.

And at the heart of it all was her, the princess.

Why will I have these memories of her?

The memories painted her in vivid detail. He saw her laugh, cry, fight, and lead with a strength he hadn’t yet witnessed in the person he knew now.

But this princess was different.

She was younger.

She was radiant, commanding, and entirely unfamiliar. Her presence filled each memory, a magnetic force that drew him in.

Like someone as old as I am now.

Yet, as much as he wanted to reach out, to speak, he found himself an observer trapped in someone else’s body.

I can’t influence what has already happened.

The dream spiraled into darkness, culminating in a harrowing scene.

The princess was screaming.

I need to save her!

Her voice was raw, filled with agony that clawed at his very soul.

No!

Princess!

She stood bathed in blood, her radiant form drenched in crimson, her hands trembling as she clutched at her chest as though trying to hold her heart together.

Why can’t I move…

Richard’s instinct was to run to her, to shield her from whatever had caused such pain.

But his body refused to move. He was paralyzed, forced to witness the horrifying tableau unfold before him.

Her screams echoed endlessly in his mind.

Why does it look like she was trying to save me instead?

And then, it happened.

A searing pain erupted from his back, sharp and unrelenting. He gasped, his breath stolen as he felt something pierce him, driving through his flesh and soul alike.

What was that?

It wasn’t just physical, it was as if the very essence of the person he had become in the dream was being torn apart.

So painful…

Through the haze of agony, he heard her voice again.

But it wasn’t a scream this time.

It was soft, trembling, and filled with sorrow so profound it felt like the earth itself might shatter.

“I swear… I will love you in every lifetime. Even if I must lose myself to find you, I will love you until the stars fade from the heavens.”

Her words were an oath, a vow that reverberated through the void, each syllable heavy with meaning.

And then, silence.

The memories shattered like fragile glass, the pieces cutting deep into his consciousness before vanishing into nothingness.

Richard gasped for air, his hands clutching his chest as if trying to still the ache left behind. The pain was too real, too raw.

His heart pounded as if it might burst, and yet, he wasn’t sure if it was his heart or the remnants of the one he had worn in the dream.

One thing was certain, the person whose memories he had relived had died.

And they had died for her.

The connection between this person and the Ahcehera he knew now gnawed at him.

Her heart belonged to someone else…