Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 66: A Parasite [3]

Julies Evans’ POV

Looks like I managed to fool her... for now.

The artifact, [Vile Mask], worked like a charm. Its perception-inhibiting ability paired with my knowledge of the original story were the only reasons I was still breathing.

If I hadn’t known about the Vampire King title, Nolkk, or the existence of that rare race—the Parasites—my head would’ve been decorating the forest floor by now.

But that attack earlier...

I shuddered just thinking about it.

My back was drenched in cold sweat. The sheer pressure from her strike... it wasn’t something I could describe as merely overwhelming. If I hadn’t activated the S-rank skill [Ghoststeps] at the last second, I’d be dead.

Even so, the cost had been brutal.

The instant I dodged, it felt like my mind had brushed against something alien, something... wrong. A headache exploded behind my eyes, so intense I thought I’d lose consciousness right there.

It was like my body had crossed a boundary it wasn’t meant to cross—and it was making me pay for it.

And that wasn’t the worst of it.

Let’s not even start with my ribcage.

I was pretty sure it was cracked in at least two places, maybe more. Breathing was a chore. My mana reserve was nearly drained, barely flickering at the bottom of the barrel.

And yet, somehow, I was standing. Talking. Smirking behind this mask.

All thanks to [Vile Mask].

That cursed relic was holding everything together—projecting an illusion of strength, feeding her false cues. It covered up the tremble in my limbs, the shortness of breath, even the damage to my mana flow. Without it, she would’ve seen right through me.

And if she’d known the truth?

I’d be dead. Plain and simple.

That’s why I put the damn mask on the moment I sensed her presence. Not for flair. Not to look mysterious.

To survive.

Because bluffing a former demon lord with a fractured chest and a nearly empty mana pool?

That’s not confidence. That’s desperation dressed in fancy words and illusion magic.

And yet, somehow... it worked.

For now.

"...Right. That arrogant person said he would become the king leading all demons."

I never expected to get information about one of the final bosses before even reaching the Drazroth Empire.

"I still can’t forget... the day that brute, under the pretext of unifying the demon clans, turned my entire territory—"

She stopped.

Velra’s voice cracked, just for a moment.

Not from weakness—but from rage so old and deep it had fossilized into something sharp.

"My generals," she said, quieter now. "My people. My name. All gone in a single night."

She looked off into the darkness, the glow of her eyes faint beneath the weight of memory.

"He didn’t just conquer me. He erased me. Took my title and fed it to the world like it was always his. And they believed him."

A thin, jagged smile formed on her lips.

"That’s why I’m going to kill him. No theatrics. No speeches. Just me, standing over his broken body when it’s done."

I didn’t respond right away.

Not because I had nothing to say, but because I knew better.

This wasn’t the time to push. Her aura was flaring again, hot enough to sting even through [Vile Mask]’s defenses.

If I so much as blinked wrong, she’d turn that seething vengeance toward me.

I had to keep playing the role.

So I chuckled softly—just enough.

"You’ll get your chance," I said. "And when that time comes, I’ll happily stand aside and watch."

She gave me a sidelong glance, not buying a word of it.

But that was fine. Suspicion was better than certainty.

I just needed her uncertain enough to hesitate when the time came.

"Good," she said after a moment. "Because if I even sense you siding with him—"

"You won’t," I cut in smoothly. "Dreck and I don’t see eye to eye. He represents the worst of our kind. Arrogance without substance. Power without restraint."

Her gaze lingered a second longer before she finally turned away, muttering something under her breath.

That was close.

Too close.

I nearly collapsed right there. My legs were shaking under the illusion, my breath ragged behind the mask.

But I couldn’t stop now.

My original plan was to kill her when the time was right.

Clean. Efficient. Just another step toward the ending I wanted.

But plans change.

And this time, the change had fangs.

Velra wasn’t just another obstacle to clear. She was living proof that the world’s power balance wasn’t as rigid as the game made it seem. A former demon lord cast down, erased by the very man who would one day stand as the final boss.

And she hated him.

Genuinely. Viscally. The kind of hate you couldn’t fake if you tried.

That made her valuable.

I wasn’t naive enough to trust her. No, she’d skewer me the moment she sensed weakness. But if I played this right—if I dangled just enough bait, spoke just enough truth to stay beneath her suspicion—then maybe...

Just maybe...

I could turn her into a weapon.

A weapon aimed straight at Dreck’s throat.

Someone hostile toward the final boss was more than an asset. She was leverage. A sword I could direct, even if I couldn’t fully control it.

It wouldn’t be bad to invest for the future.

’Let’s pause the questions for a moment.’

I didn’t say it out loud at first. Not right away.

I watched Velra—her eyes like frozen glass, waiting for an excuse to snap. She was enjoying this little interrogation game far too much.

"I’d like to continue, really," I said finally, adjusting the weight on my legs as subtly as possible. "But we’re short on time."

Her gaze sharpened.

"Have you forgotten our agreement?" she asked coolly. "It’s my turn to ask questions."

Of course it was.

But this wasn’t about turns anymore.

"A noble’s daughter almost died today," I reminded her, voice even. "And not just any noble. A duke’s daughter. Attacked by a demon in her own territory. That’s not going to slide under the radar."

She frowned slightly, but didn’t speak. That alone told me she was listening.

"Humans don’t wait," I continued. "They retaliate. A force is probably on the move already—maybe even split into search parties by now. If we’re lucky, we’ve got an hour before they reach this forest."

She turned away from me then, cloak swishing as she took a few short steps, hands curled at her sides.

"You’re saying they’ll come here?"

"They’ll follow the mana traces. The clash left too many footprints. Burn marks. Displaced aura. That kind of thing might be invisible to regular people, but not to trained knights or field inquisitors."

Velra’s lips pulled into a faint scowl. "Then we kill them first."

Gods.

She said that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I took a slow breath.

"That would be an incredibly stupid idea," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "You’re still recovering. And I—well, I don’t want to die today."

She turned back to face me. Her expression didn’t change, but I could feel the temperature dip. The pressure she gave off wasn’t something a sane man could stand comfortably under. Good thing I wasn’t sane.

"Look," I said, "If you fight them now you will die. You don’t even stand a chance against

them. Maybe you will kill few of them but I know for sure Duke himself will be here and against him, you don’t stand a chance. If you really want to survive—if you actually want to take Dreck’s head—then we have to move. Now."

Her eyes narrowed. There was no trust there. Just a flicker of calculation.

"You’re awfully prepared for a parasite in hiding."

That hit closer than she knew.

I shrugged.

"Caution’s how I’m still breathing."

And bluffing. Lots of bluffing. But I didn’t say that.

For a second, she just stared at me, lips pressed into a thin line.

Then she exhaled and nodded—barely.

Progress.

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