Living As the Villainess Queen

Chapter 386.2



As Riner’s murmurs persisted, Kasser’s patience wore thin. “Fire King, spare us the editorials. Or shall I take over?” he asserted firmly.

Riner stifled his irritation and resumed reading from the next sentence.

“There is a crisis looming over the world at this very moment. God purportedly stated that if we unite, we can overcome this crisis with ease.”

Cynicism painted the expressions of not only Riner, but also the other kings who listened intently. Each harbored the same skeptical thought: ‘Let’s see how far this charade goes.’

Talk of a world crisis, an impending war, and an ambiguous evil to combat only served to exacerbate Riner’s annoyance as he recited the flowery phrases littered with grandiose descriptors. Pausing momentarily, Riner met Kasser’s gaze before continuing.

“…To lead this war to victory, God purportedly bestowed two priests upon the earth. Supposedly, when these two priests enter the sacred fortress and receive the oracle, the path to restoring peace will reveal itself. Warriors of God, you are deemed worthy of a sacred mission by the divine. Anika Jin and Anika Flora, you are tasked with opening the way for the two priests to safely reach the fortress.”

A hush fell over the surroundings.

“Hah…” Kasser burst into laughter, though there was no mirth in his tone. The audacity of the monster, seizing hold of the Holy City and issuing its demands, particularly the mention of the two Anikas, filled him with a fiery rage.

His blood boiled with fury at the thought of some monstrous entity daring to covet Eugene, his wife. The anger within him burned so fiercely that he felt it would not dissipate even if he were to tear the creature apart, piece by piece.

Through clenched teeth, Kasser addressed Riner in a low, ominous tone. “Is that all?”

Riner shook his head briefly before continuing to read the remainder of the sentence.

“Until the priests arrive at the fortress, the sacred shield surrounding the fortress will endure indefinitely.”

***

Rahan, the leader of Muen, cleared his throat dryly and slowly opened his eyes. Glancing towards the window, he realized that his brief nap hadn’t stretched into evening yet; it was still midday. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Every time he drifted into slumber, there lingered a fear that he might not awaken again.

Sensing the fragility of his own existence, Rahan felt as if his life hung by a thread, swaying in the wind like a flickering candle.

Only a thin layer of skin remained stretched over his emaciated frame. His cheeks were hollowed, and his prominent cheekbones lent his visage an almost skeletal appearance. Yet, his eyes held an enigmatic gleam.

Oh God, grant me a little more time, he silently pleaded. Allow me to fulfill my final duty in peace.

Despite receiving a terminal diagnosis in the past, Rahan had persevered far beyond expectations, baffling even the most seasoned physicians. He couldn’t quite comprehend why he clung so desperately to life.

With few regrets to weigh on his conscience and having imparted all he could to his grown son, Rahan longed for respite from the ceaseless pain. Yet, the solace of eternal rest eluded him.

Recently, Rahan had encountered Alber in a dream. As he stirred from his slumber that morning, a premonition stirred within him. It was as though he had endured all the hardships thus far in anticipation of this pivotal moment.

The memory of the grey-haired old woman, whom he had encountered just once in his childhood, lingered stubbornly in Rahan’s mind. Despite numerous inquiries directed at his father regarding her identity and whereabouts, each query was met with stoic silence. It wasn’t until his sister departed the family and Rahan assumed the mantle of household leadership that he finally unraveled the mystery surrounding the old woman’s identity.

From that point onward, Rahan dedicated himself to finding a way to aid Alber. However, as he confronted the harsh realities of their predicament, his resolve wavered. Yet, when the King’s warriors sought him out, he imparted to them a method to briefly deceive the monster’s vigilant gaze—a small victory amidst daunting odds.

Alber’s tearful farewell to Anika Jean left him deeply concerned, yet Rahan found solace in the knowledge that he had done all he could, despite being unable to save her.

“This aging body still has its duties,” he resolved, spurred on by his encounter with Alber in a dream, where they engaged in a profound conversation. The following day, Rahan felt a renewed sense of purpose, buoyed by the weightless anticipation of fulfilling Alber’s request.

As the door creaked open, Thas entered quietly, prompting Rahan’s immediate attention.

“What’s the matter?” Rahan inquired, noting the urgency in his son’s demeanor.

“I’ve received crucial information through the Ars family. It’s an eyewitness account from a knight who personally witnessed the spell being cast,” Thas exclaimed, his youthful face alight with anticipation, seeking his father’s approval.

Rahan’s grin widened, etching lines of joy on his weathered face.

“Excellent,” he declared.

Alber’s task lingered in Rahan’s mind—to uncover the nature of the spell cast within the Holy City and discern Sang-je’s intentions. Despite his confidence in his family’s intellect, Rahan found himself entangled in a web of complexity as he delved into his investigation.

Sang-je’s iron grip extended beyond merely declaring the Holy War and sealing the city gates; he had seized control of the Holy City itself. The residents found themselves confined within their homes, permitted only minimal excursions for essential tasks like procuring groceries or seeking medical care, and even these outings required explicit permission. Those fervent volunteers who had enlisted in the crusade were christened the “Justice Army” and tasked with monitoring the populace.

Amidst this turmoil, deciphering the intricacies of Sang-je’s machinations, particularly regarding the spellcasting, proved to be a daunting challenge. Surveillance on the Muen family had intensified, leaving them ensnared in a web of restrictions.

Time dwindled, pushing Rahan to desperate measures. Despite his solemn vow never to acknowledge his sister’s kin, he reluctantly reached out to the Ars family in a bid for assistance. Rationalizing his actions with the notion of necessity, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his bloodline urged him on.

Ultimately, his decision bore fruit. Through tenacious efforts, he established a clandestine line of communication with the Ars family, gradually gaining insight into the inner workings of the Saint Palace. And on this pivotal day, the crucial information he had long sought finally reached him.

That night, as sleep enveloped him in contentment, Rahan found himself once more visited by Alber in his dreams.

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