I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead-Chapter 183: The Trial (40)

The moment their feet crossed the threshold into the second trial chamber, the air shifted. It grew heavier, dense with humidity that clung to their skin like sweat-soaked cloth. Mist crawled along the floor, curling around their ankles as faint echoes whispered from unseen corners. The ceiling stretched endlessly above, vanishing into darkness, and towering marble pillars spiraled into the void like the skeletal remains of forgotten giants.

"Trial of Water..." Verena muttered under her breath, recognizing the oppressive weight of it instantly. "Perfect. Emotional breakdowns with extra dampness."

A vast circular arena stretched before them, the ground made of smooth, reflective obsidian tiles that rippled like water under each step. In the center stood a colossal, glass-like orb floating above the floor, pulsing with faint cerulean light. Around its surface, images flickered—memories, moments, faces frozen in time like an endless, spinning reel of regret.

Vivienne clung to Verena’s sleeve, eyes wide. "I... I think it’s showing people’s pasts."

"Wonderful," Verena groaned. "A magical therapy session. Exactly what I needed."

The orb shuddered, and the tiles beneath them parted like petals peeling back from a bud, revealing pools of crystal-clear water. From them emerged translucent figures, watery silhouettes with half-formed faces and drifting, jellyfish-like limbs. They didn’t walk. They glided—silent, eerie, their forms shifting between humanoid and abstract shapes as if they were memories refusing to settle.

A voice, deep and ancient, resonated across the arena. "The Trial of Water confronts the echoes you deny. Only through acceptance may you cross."

Verena scowled. "What is it with this place and existential crises?"

Before she could form a plan, one of the watery figures floated toward her. Its face twisted mid-form—soft features that hardened into something horribly familiar. Her mother. Cold. Disappointed. A phantom scowl that sent ice prickling down Verena’s spine.

"Of course," Verena whispered bitterly. "Let’s drag that out of the grave too."

The figure reached out, not attacking, simply hovering in front of her, forcing her to meet its gaze. Behind it, more figures emerged—half-familiar, half-forgotten faces of the people Verena failed, the mistakes she shoved under her bravado. Her old squad. Friends from another timeline who never made it past their first trial. The silent chorus of her regrets.

Vivienne whimpered beside her, clutching her arms tight. "Verena... they’re all around us..."

"I see that." Verena flexed her fingers, feeling the ghost of Saphira coiled around her wrist like a reassuring weight. She couldn’t attack these things—this wasn’t about brute strength. It was a trial of introspection. Water never fought head-on—it eroded, seeped, drowned you in yourself.

The voice echoed again. "Face them, or drown in denial."

The floor rippled. Water licked up her boots. The orb in the center pulsed faster now, images flashing so quickly they blurred into a storm of memory.

Verena grit her teeth. "Stay behind me," she told Vivienne, stepping forward. "I’ve drowned before. Not happening again."

She exhaled, steadying her breath, and raised her hand. The spectral threads of her Zodiacal Mimicry shimmered to life, swirling faintly with borrowed constellations. "You wanna show me my worst mistakes?" She smiled crookedly. "Good. It means I still remember."

The watery figures circled closer, the arena shifting, illusions melting seamlessly into reality. But this time, Verena wasn’t flinching. She met each phantom gaze head-on, dragging their presence into sharp focus. Her fears weren’t going to control her. Not anymore.

Because beyond this trial... her team was waiting. The real battle was only beginning.

The water rippled beneath Verena’s boots as she pressed forward, the illusions of her past clawing at the edges of her mind, but she held firm. It wasn’t bravery—it was exhaustion. She was simply too tired to keep crumbling over the same ghosts.

The floor shifted again, the water creeping higher, now brushing against her calves. Vivienne squeaked behind her, struggling to keep up, her shoes splashing clumsily as the arena changed once more.

"Ugh, you better not float away," Verena muttered, grabbing the girl’s wrist before the tide could pull her.

They pressed onward. The orb in the center pulsed with brighter light, the flashing images around it speeding up like the ticking of a clock running out of time. The spectral figures stalked them from the edges, shifting between strangers and familiar faces—their forms watery, translucent, but their presence suffocatingly real.

A familiar voice whispered from behind her ear. Cold. Disappointed. Her own. "You’re still faking it, Verena. The confident act. The smirks. You know it’s paper-thin."

Verena bared her teeth in a humorless grin. "Wow, even my inner voice is annoying."

She squeezed Vivienne’s hand tighter, steadying herself as the final platform appeared ahead—a staircase of glass steps spiraling upward toward the floating orb. The water surged beneath them now, rising with each moment of hesitation.

"Stay close," Verena ordered, practically dragging Vivienne forward.

As they climbed, the orb’s glow intensified, and so did the illusions. Figures materialized on each step—former teammates from her past life, their faces twisted in disappointment. Friends who never made it. Lovers who never stayed. A parade of regrets designed to make her crumble.

Vivienne whimpered beside her. "I... I can’t do this..."

"Yes, you can." Verena’s tone was sharp, slicing through the doubt. "This isn’t just your trial, sunshine. It’s mine too."

They reached the final step. The orb loomed before them, pulsing like a heartbeat. The arena fell silent except for the quiet lapping of water below.

A new figure emerged, stepping out of the orb itself—a perfect replica of Verena. But this version radiated polished arrogance, her eyes glinting with venomous pride.

The doppelgänger smirked. "Look at you. Dragging around broken toys, pretending you’ve got it together."

Verena rolled her eyes. "Great. A trial and a therapy session. Couldn’t just be normal monsters, could it?"

The replica raised a hand, water coalescing into sharp blades, spinning lazily in the air like mocking fangs.

Vivienne tugged at Verena’s arm. "I... I can help... my magic..."

Verena glanced at her, then back at the grinning clone. A part of her wanted to shove Vivienne behind her, protect her from what was coming—but another part remembered: this wasn’t just about surviving. It was about facing the reality that sometimes, you needed help.

"Fine," Verena sighed. "Dreamtide it up, sunshine."

Vivienne closed her eyes, her Natal Affinity flaring softly. The air shimmered as delicate, almost invisible threads of illusion wove around them, dulling the replica’s edges, making her falter slightly, her smirk flickering.

Verena lunged.

The battle wasn’t a clash of brute strength—it was one of mental endurance. Every strike the replica made whispered with doubts and fears, but Verena batted them aside, her mimicry sparking with stolen constellations, reinforcing her strikes.

The orb pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, the illusions fraying, the water receding.

With a final strike, the replica shattered into mist, her expression frozen in irritation.

The arena stilled. The orb dimmed.

A faint chime echoed—system notification.

[Trial Two Completed.]

[Emotional Alignment: Satisfactory.]

[Party Progression: Authorized.]

Vivienne slumped against Verena, exhausted but beaming. "We... did it..."

Verena exhaled, drenched, frustrated, but undeniably relieved. "Yeah... Two down... who knows how many more to go..."

But for the first time, she wasn’t entirely dreading what came next.

The walls of the labyrinth rippled, the watery illusions fading into cool mist as a new path unveiled itself ahead—a narrow, stone corridor etched with faint, glowing zodiac patterns. The atmosphere shifted. The oppressive weight of the second trial lifted, replaced by an eerie calm.

Vivienne clung to Verena’s sleeve, eyes wide but sparkling with relief. "S-See? I told you I could help..."

Verena snorted, brushing damp hair off her forehead. "Barely. But fine... You were marginally useful." Her lips curled into a teasing grin despite herself.

They walked forward, their boots clicking softly on the polished floor. The labyrinth’s shifting walls whispered faintly, like the maze itself was watching, listening.

"Where’s Isolde...?" Vivienne asked, glancing around nervously.

"Up ahead. Probably decimating everything in her path like an elegant war goddess." Verena’s voice was dry, but fond.

True enough, as they rounded the corner, familiar threads of Bind Magic clung to the air like spider silk. Sleek, silver strands looped around fallen obstacles and disarmed traps with brutal precision.

A faint silhouette appeared—Isolde, effortlessly elegant, adjusting her gloves as though the labyrinth was merely an afternoon inconvenience.

She turned, arching an eyebrow. "Took you long enough."

Vivienne immediately ducked behind Verena, flustered.

Verena sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Trial Three’s next. Let’s get it over with before this place throws another emotional breakdown at me."

And with that, they advanced, three mismatched souls pressing on—because if there was one thing this cursed academy taught her, it was that surviving wasn’t always about strength.

Sometimes, it was about stubbornly dragging your disasters with you.

The corridor narrowed as they walked, faint constellations pulsing under their feet. Isolde led with practiced grace, while Vivienne clung to Verena’s arm like an anxious kitten. Ahead, the faint roar of shifting stone echoed—a warning that Trial Three wasn’t going to wait. Verena exhaled. "Here we go again."

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l