Reincarnated as the Villainess's Unlucky Bodyguard

Chapter 182: Baptism of Shadows
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Liria stood quietly in the cavernous chamber, the stone walls lit faintly by flickering violet torches, their eerie flames casting dancing shadows. Before her, on a throne carved from solid obsidian, lounged the Dark Sovereign, golden eyes glowing faintly as they studied her carefully.

"You’ve grown stronger, Liria," the Sovereign remarked lazily, her voice smooth like molten silver. "Strong enough to stand at my side. Strong enough to finally make yourself useful."

Liria met her mother’s gaze evenly, expression unreadable. She had grown used to these conversations cold, calculating, never quite maternal but still, some part of her bristled at the suggestion that until now, she had merely been a tool, waiting to be sharpened. Still, she kept her face carefully blank, a mask she’d perfected over three long years.

"I live to serve," she replied dryly.

A chuckle rumbled from the Sovereign’s chest, eyes sparking with amusement. "You certainly do. Now, I have a task suited perfectly for you." The Sovereign gestured vaguely, conjuring a shadowy projection in the air between them. "There’s a quaint little human village, not far from our territory. They’ve grown… troublesome. Defiant. You will deal with them."

Liria lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And by ’deal with,’ you mean…?"

A smile, dark and predatory, stretched slowly across the Sovereign’s face. "Teach them the cost of defiance."

Liria didn’t flinch. She met the eyes of her mother, searching for something anything human beneath the calculating gleam. All she found was cold ambition, the same ruthless gaze she’d grown familiar with. Her chest tightened briefly, but she pushed it aside, burying it beneath layers of indifference.

"Consider it done," she said smoothly, her voice betraying nothing.

Nightfall cloaked the village in deep shadows, the moon hidden behind a thick curtain of clouds as Liria approached, her footsteps silent against the damp earth. The village lay quiet, nestled between hills, completely oblivious to the dark force that stalked its edges.

[Targets identified,] the system informed her calmly. [No significant threats detected.]

"Humans rarely are," Liria replied coldly, fingers flexing as black flames rippled along her sword. She despised how easily the words left her mouth, but she didn’t pull them back. Weakness wasn’t a luxury she could afford, especially now.

She moved forward, slipping past simple wooden fences and through patches of shadow that danced beneath a crescent moon. The air grew thick with tension, each step heavier than the last. Liria knew what she had to do, yet a distant echo of regret whispered through her heart.

The village’s guards, barely awake and visibly bored, leaned against crude spears near the gate, their statistics pitifully weak compared to her own.

[Human Guard]

Level: 8

Health: 800/800

Magic: 200/200

Attributes:

• Strength: 15

• Agility: 13

• Endurance: 15

Pathetic.

She approached silently, appearing from the darkness like a shadow given form. One guard barely had time to yawn before her sword cleaved through his weapon, splintering wood flying everywhere. His companion raised his spear with shaking hands, eyes wide with terror.

"What… What are you?"

"A message," Liria whispered. "Nothing more."

Her black flames engulfed him, silencing the scream that had barely begun.

Liria stepped through the open gates into the village, the night air now thick with smoke and screams. Humans began emerging from their homes, sleep-rumpled and confused. Their eyes went wide with horror, whispers spreading rapidly, voices trembling with panic.

She hated how easy it was. She hated how good it felt to release the fire inside her, hated how the darkness welcomed her as if she belonged to it.

But don’t I? she wondered bitterly.

The villagers formed a scattered, terrified mob, clutching pitchforks, shovels, anything they could find. They looked pathetic lost lambs facing a wolf.

Liria’s heart clenched painfully, but she forced herself forward, projecting icy confidence even as she struggled internally. She had her orders. She would not could not hesitate.

The bravest among them stepped forward, a man barely older than twenty, face pale, but resolve burning in his eyes. His stats flashed briefly before her:

[Human Villager]

Level: 9

Health: 550/550

Magic: 0/0

"Stay away!" he shouted, voice trembling but firm. "You won’t take our village!"

Liria raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. "Brave words," she said quietly, voice devoid of emotion. "But bravery without strength is meaningless."

She lunged forward, swift and precise, knocking the young man unconscious with a well-placed strike to the stomach rather than killing him outright. A brief mercy she couldn’t entirely understand, but felt compelled to grant.

[You’re hesitating,] the system noted cautiously.

"Shut up," Liria snapped silently. "I’m doing my job."

The rest of the villagers scattered, screaming as flames erupted from Liria’s palms, swallowing homes in blazing torrents of black fire. Embers danced around her, casting eerie shadows on her pale skin. Yet, amid the chaos, a sense of emptiness gnawed at her.

She had expected to feel satisfaction, perhaps triumph, in wielding such power. But now, all she felt was hollow.

Another human fell before her, weeping openly as her flames brushed dangerously close, yet never quite touched. Liria glared down at the terrified woman, eyes cold, lips pressed tight.

"Please," the woman sobbed, hands clasped together in desperation. "Mercy…"

[Finish it,] the system urged gently. [It’s what she expects.]

Liria froze, heart thundering painfully in her chest. The words were a stark reminder of whose commands she followed, whose expectations she now lived by.

She should finish it. She knew it. She was meant to leave no survivors. To burn the memory of this village from existence.

But even as she raised her hand, black flames coiling around her fingers, she hesitated.

What was she doing?

Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the screams, the roaring flames, the whispers of the system. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, cold and indifferent. A Queen. A weapon. A monster.

A single choice lay before her.

And in that moment, Liria realized something crucial:

She didn’t want to be like her mother.

She dropped her hand, extinguishing the flames abruptly. The woman stared up at her, eyes wide with confusion and relief.

"Go," Liria said, voice strained. "Get out of here. Now."

The villager scrambled away, vanishing into the smoky haze. Liria stared at her retreating figure, chest tight, confusion clawing at her throat.

[You just disobeyed a direct order.] The system sounded almost stunned.

"I know," Liria whispered.

[She won’t forgive this easily.]

"Let her rage," Liria replied quietly. "I’m not her puppet."

Yet her gaze drifted to the burning village around her, destruction left by her own hand.

And she wondered, bitterly, if it was already too late to stop herself from becoming exactly what her mother wanted.

Liria stared at her trembling hands, the fading embers of her black flames flickering uncertainly, mirroring the turmoil within her chest. The heat around her was oppressive, smoke coiling lazily into the midnight sky, and she stood rooted amidst the chaos she’d wrought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the destruction around her.

[Liria,] the system spoke softly, its tone cautious, almost gentle. [You need to move. If anyone sees—]

"I know," she snapped silently, the sharpness in her tone betraying her rising panic. "Just—just give me a minute."

But the truth was, she didn’t need a minute. She needed eternity to unravel the tangled knot that was her conscience, the snarled threads of guilt, defiance, and something else she couldn’t name. It was as if she had been climbing toward the precipice for so long that she’d forgotten how far she’d risen, and now the dizzying fall loomed before her.

"Great job, Liria," she muttered aloud, bitterness seeping into her voice. "You’ve officially reached peak villainy burning villages and traumatizing peasants. Your mother must be so proud."

[Technically,] the system offered hesitantly, sensing the dangerous edge to her mood, [You didn’t finish the job.]

"Oh, fantastic," she scoffed. "Not only am I a ruthless destroyer, I’m also bad at it. Truly the worst of both worlds."

The system wisely kept quiet after that.

She turned back toward the smoldering village, the dark smoke and ash now thick enough to obscure even the stars above. Every building was a silhouette in the darkness, half-consumed by flames that crackled and hissed, echoing like mocking laughter in her ears. She forced herself to move forward, stepping over charred debris and the remnants of the lives she’d shattered. It was strange how empty victory felt, how hollow and bitter it tasted now.

Had her mother felt this emptiness, too? Or was this exactly what she craved destruction for the sake of power, oblivious to the devastation it left behind?

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The thought sent a chill through Liria, unsettling her more deeply than she cared to admit.

[You’re stronger than she thinks,] the system said softly, almost gently. [You’re different from her.]

Liria paused, her breath catching painfully. "Am I, though?" she whispered, voicing the question that haunted her. "I didn’t hesitate until the very end. What if next time… I don’t stop at all?"

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The silence stretched painfully, broken only by the faint whispers of wind through the ashes.

[Then I’ll remind you,] the system replied firmly, breaking the quiet at last. [I’ll remind you exactly who you are who you’ve always been. Because you’re more than the weapon she sees.]

She closed her eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. She wanted desperately to believe the words, to cling to the fragile hope they offered. But doubt was a poison that seeped deep into her bones, tainting every thought.

When she opened her eyes again, the smoke had cleared slightly, revealing the starry night above a stark contrast to the destruction around her. Yet it offered no comfort, no answers. Only silent judgment, distant and cold.

"Let’s get out of here," she murmured, turning away from the ruined village.

[Where are you going?] the system asked softly.

She paused, uncertainty gripping her tightly. "Anywhere but here."

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