I'm in Love with the Villainess!

Light exploded from his body.

Not beams or chains or spears—just light. Raw, blinding, absolute. It burned through my dark aura like paper, searing my skin even through my clothes. I screamed without meaning to, the sound torn from my throat as I tried to pull away.

But he wouldn’t let go.

"You’re strong," he said, his voice calm despite the blood dripping down his chin. "But strength without discipline is just chaos. And chaos... chaos burns out."

Chaos? Ridiculous, unlike him, I’ve actually used literal chaos before.

[Light Manipulation]

A blade of light materialised in his free hand, aimed directly at my chest.

FWOOOOSH!

A beam of condensed light struck Valtor from the side, hurling him across the arena. He crashed into a pillar, the stone cracking around him, and slumped to the ground.

Marcellus stood at the edge of the arena, arm extended, golden light still flickering around his fingertips.

"Didn’t expect you’d help."

"I said don’t kill him," he called out. "I didn’t say I wouldn’t help."

"He’s not dead," I coughed, clutching my burned arm. The skin was blackened, blistered, smelling faintly of cooked meat. [Dark Flame Recovery] was already working, but slowly. That divine light had done something to my regeneration.

Suppressed it, maybe.

"Give me a second," I muttered.

"We don’t have a second."

Marcellus pointed.

Valtor was getting up.

Slowly, painfully, using the cracked pillar for support, the High Inquisitor rose to his feet. One arm hung limp at his side, dislocated or broken. His robes were mostly ash now, revealing a lean, muscular body crisscrossed with old scars.

New burns covered his left side, courtesy of Marcellus’s blast.

And still, he smiled.

"Two against one now," he said, his voice ragged. "How... sporting."

"Surrender," Marcellus said, walking toward him slowly. "Tell me what the church is planning in the inner district, and I’ll let you walk out of here. You have my word as a prince."

"Your word?"

Valtor laughed, a wet, rattling sound.

"Your word means nothing to me, boy. I’ve served Elion for forty years. I’ve baptized princes. I’ve buried kings. I’ve seen the church survive inquisitions, rebellions, and civil wars. You think a spoiled royal brat and his pet dark mage scare me?"

His good hand rose again.

More spell circles. Smaller this time, denser.

"I’ve been fighting since before you were born."

[Light Manipulation]

[Barrier of the Faithful]

A dome of golden light snapped into place around him, shimmering with divine inscriptions. Marcellus threw a beam at it—the light splashed off like water against stone.

I tried to send a shadow tendril through the floor to bypass it. The tendril hit the underside of the barrier and dissolved.

"That’s going to be a problem," I said.

"It’s a static defence," Marcellus replied, frowning. "He can’t maintain it forever. We just need to wait him out."

"We don’t have forever."

I pointed at the ceiling.

Cracks were spreading from the pillars, growing wider by the second. The waterfall had slowed to a trickle, choked by fallen debris. And somewhere above us, I could hear shouting. Guards. Reinforcements.

Valtor’s smile widened.

"You hear that?" he said. "My men are securing the exits as we speak. Even if you kill me, you’ll never make it out of this building alive—"

He stopped when he saw my face.

"So... you’re all here?" I said, my smile widening as the presence behind me grew heavier.

So he really brought everyone.

Perfect...

[Command Hydra]

The cavern answered at once.

Darkness surged from every corner, rushing toward me as if yanked by invisible chains. Shadows peeled off the walls, off the floor, off every crack and crevice, then collapsed inward until the whole cavern looked stripped bare—flat, hollow, wrong, like the world itself had been reduced to a crude sketch.

Anything touched by light lost its shine. Anything that should have cast a shadow had none.

Because every last shred of darkness had been dragged into mine.

A spell Corvus had once used against me.

But unlike him, I had more than enough minds to bear the backlash.

[Shadow Domain]

BOOM!

The condensed darkness detonated outward.

A massive dome of black erupted through the cavern just as the reinforcements stormed in.

Too late.

FWISH!

The dome sealed shut.

Light vanished.

Sound died.

Pressure crashed down on everything inside, sudden and brutal, like being dragged to the ocean floor and crushed beneath the weight of a hundred seas.

The reinforcements locked up instantly.

Valtor stopped cold.

Even Marcellus froze where he stood.

Not because time had stopped—

but because the spell’s pressure was tearing through their nervous systems, scrambling the signals between thought and movement, turning their bodies into dead weight.

Even I felt it clawing at me.

But—

The False Hydra absorbed most of the strain for me.

I exhaled slowly and smiled into the dark.

"Checkmate..."

The darkness didn’t just press down. It breathed.

Valtor’s barrier flickered once, twice—then shattered like glass under the weight of my domain. The golden light scattered into dying embers, swallowed by the shadow that now filled every inch of the cavern.

He stared at me, finally, truly.

The smile was gone.

"What... are you?"

"Tired," I said. "Mostly."

I walked toward him. Each step felt like wading through molasses, the domain pressing against me as much as it pressed against them. But I was the source. The anchor. It would never crush me the way it crushed everyone else.

Behind me, the reinforcements lay scattered across the stone floor, twitching, gasping—alive but useless. Their eyes were open, staring at nothing.

Marcellus had managed to stay upright, barely. A faint glow flickered around his body, his light magic fighting to push back the pressure. But even he couldn’t move more than an inch at a time.

"Arden..." he muttered through gritted teeth. "You’ve been hiding this?"

"Hiding?"

I stopped a few feet from Valtor, looking down at the High Inquisitor. He’d collapsed to one knee, his good hand pressed against the floor, trembling. Blood dripped from his nose and ears.

"You could say that..."

I can’t exactly say I was simply too weak in the past to use it until now...

Valtor raised his head.

Behind his mask, his eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, furious.

"You think this changes anything?" he spat. "The church knows about you. About both of you. Even if I die here, others will come. Stronger than me. More faithful than me. And they will—"

"What is the church planning in the inner district?"

My voice came out flat. Hollow. The domain pulsed with it, sending another wave of pressure through the cavern. Valtor’s body seized, a choked gasp escaping his throat.

"I... will never..."

"I wasn’t asking."

I knelt down in front of him, close enough to see my reflection in his bleeding eyes.

"Valtor. You’ve served Elion for forty years. You’ve baptised princes and buried kings. You’ve seen the church survive everything the world threw at it. But now, none of it is going to matter."

"What...?"

I tilted my head.

"Ever heard of a False Hydra?"