The Return Of The Exiled Villain-Chapter 180: A Date With Lyra (V)

"Huh... It’s getting late," Gray muttered as he noticed the beautiful sunset in the distance as they walked away from the large red tent.

"Oh..." Lyra nodded softly, her hands still clasped in front of her.

She truly hadn’t expected the circus to last that long, nor had she expected him to step onto that stage, to shine so effortlessly, to make the entire crowd laugh and cheer as if the world revolved around him.

And yet...

If she could relive this day again, over and over, she knew one thing for certain.

She would always choose to see Gray act as that clown.

It was... an experience she knew she would never forget.

And thinking of this, her eyes shone as she remembered something.

Grip!

Lyra suddenly squeezed his hand tighter.

"Come on! There’s one last place I want to go."

"This late?" Gray raised an eyebrow.

"Yes!" she replied instantly, already pulling him along.

"She’s only in the city today."

Before he could ask anything else, Lyra was already dragging him through the thinning streets, almost excited enough to lift her off the ground.

The sunset faded behind them, replaced by lantern light and murmuring crowds, until the noise slowly thinned out again.

Then Gray saw it.

A small tent stood at the corner of a quiet square.

Purple fabric, slightly worn, embroidered with faint silver patterns that shimmered softly under the lanterns.

Incense burned near the entrance, its scent strange but not exactly unpleasant.

"...A fortune teller?" Gray muttered.

Lyra turned back to him, smiling brightly.

"A future sight user," she corrected.

"Apparently, she’s the real deal."

"Mhm." His lips curved faintly.

"And you believe that?"

Lyra didn’t answer, and instead, just tugged him forward again.

The moment they reached the tent, she didn’t hesitate even a little. She lifted the flap and stepped inside, dragging him along whether he liked it or not.

The interior was dim.

Soft purple light came from small crystals hanging along the poles, casting shifting shadows over the fabric walls.

At the center stood a simple wooden table, old and scarred, and resting atop it, there was a single crystal ball.

Clear and flawless with a faint mist swirling deep inside it as if something alive was breathing within.

Behind the table sat a woman.

Or at least... someone who looked like one.

She wore a dark hood that concealed most of her face, only her pale lips and slender chin were visible.

Her hands rested calmly on either side of the crystal ball, fingers long, unmoving, as if carved from wax.

The moment Lyra stepped in, the woman’s head lifted slightly.

"...Welcome," she said softly.

"Ah, hello!" Lyra straightened, suddenly a little nervous despite her earlier enthusiasm.

Gray, on the other hand, calmly scanned the tent, instinctively measuring the woman in front of him.

No obvious killing intent.

No immediate danger.

The hooded woman’s head turned slightly.

"...You’re not here for yourself," she said, her unseen gaze settling on Lyra. "You’re here because you’re curious."

"...Yes?" Lyra blinked.

"And you," the woman continued, turning her attention to Gray, "...are only here because you followed."

"True," Gray smirked faintly.

The woman’s lips curved lightly.

"Sit."

Lyra hesitated, then nodded quickly and sat down on the small cushion in front of the table, pulling Gray with her.

Their knees nearly touched.

The hooded woman placed both palms on the crystal ball.

The mist inside stirred immediately and thickened a lot.

"...Future sight is not fate," she said calmly.

"It is a possibility. Threads that may intertwine... or snap."

Lyra swallowed hard at her words, not being able to hide the excitement in her eyes.

"...Can you really see it?"

Silence.

"I can see what wishes to be seen," the woman replied.

Her hands lifted, and immediately, the crystal ball glowed faintly.

Lyra leaned forward without realizing it, her breath caught somewhere in her chest. Gray glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

The woman tilted her head toward Lyra.

"...What do you wish to know?"

Lyra hesitated for a moment, fingers tightening together on her lap.

"I... I want to know about my future life," she said softly. "Nothing too complicated. Just... if I’ll be happy."

The hooded woman didn’t answer right away.

Her hands pressed against the crystal ball again, and this time, the mist inside began to swirl more gently, like slow clouds drifting under moonlight.

The purple glow softened, warming the tent.

"...You are surrounded by light," the woman said at last. "Not the kind that blinds... but the kind that stays."

Lyra’s eyes widened slightly.

"You will walk a difficult path," the woman continued calmly. "There will be fear. There will be moments where you doubt yourself. Moments where you feel small."

The mist shimmered, faint images forming and dissolving too quickly to fully grasp.

"But your wish...will come true."

Lyra leaned forward, breath caught.

"R-really?"

"Indeed," she replied. "You will protect what you cherish. You will be protected in return. Love will not leave you... even when the world tries to pull it away."

Lyra’s chest tightened.

"...You will be happy," the woman concluded simply.

For a second, Lyra just stared at the crystal ball.

Then her eyes shimmered slightly, and she let out a small, relieved laugh.

"...That’s enough."

She turned instinctively toward Gray, her smile bright, almost glowing.

"See? No cursed future. You’re safe." Gray met her gaze and smirked lightly.

"Mhm!" Lyra nodded.

The hooded woman then turned to Gray.

"...Now," she muttered, turning her attention toward Gray, "it is your turn."

"Sure." Gray raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly.

’Jasmine tells me if there’s some kind of energy entering my body...’

[Okay.]

The woman placed her hands on the crystal ball again.

At first, nothing happened... but just then...

Fwoop!

The mist inside the crystal ball stilled.

Completely.

And in the next instant, it collapsed inward.

The soft glow vanished, replaced by something thick, heavy, and unnaturally dark. The mist turned pitch-black, swallowing all light inside the sphere.

The temperature in the tent dropped.

Lyra felt it immediately.

"...Gray?" she whispered.

The hooded woman froze.

Her hands trembled.

For the first time since they entered, her breathing grew uneven.

"...Your future..." she began slowly.

The black mist churned violently now, pressing against the glass as if trying to escape.

"...is betrayal."

[I don’t feel anything...]

Jasmine’s words came just right after that sentence.

Gray’s expression didn’t change.

The woman swallowed.

"Everything will be thrown at you," she continued, voice low and strained. "From all directions. Strikes you cannot predict. Blades you cannot dodge."

The black mist surged.

"You will lose... Not once. Not twice. Again and again."

"Stop!!!" Lyra’s heart started pounding.

"Even when hope appears," the woman added, her voice growing darker, "...it will be no more than a sliver. Something fragile. Something barely alive."

The woman’s hood lifted slightly.

And Lyra saw it.

Her eyes... turned completely black.

"You will cling to whatever remains of yourself," she stated coldly. "Even when there is almost nothing left."

The tent felt suffocating.

Crack...!

The crystal ball cracked slightly, thin fractures spreading across its surface.

"And in the end..." the woman whispered.

"...In the end?" Gray finally spoke.

The woman looked directly at him.

"You will return."

The black mist suddenly imploded, collapsing inward with a sharp sound.

"...Stronger than ever."

Fwoop...

The glow vanished.

The crystal ball went completely clear, as if nothing had ever been inside it.

The woman jerked back sharply, breathing hard, sweat dripping down her chin.

"...That is all," she said hoarsely.

"Leave."

"Let’s go." Lyra grabbed Gray’s arm instantly.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air rushed over them, the lanterns flickering softly around the quiet square.

Lyra looked up at him with worry written all over her face.

"...Are you okay?"

Gray exhaled slowly before smiling softly.

"A fortune teller’s words," he chuckled lightly.

"That’s all."

Lyra didn’t say anything for a few steps.

Her fingers were still laced with his, but her grip was tighter now, as if she was afraid he might slip away if she loosened it even a little.

She kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye, her brows faintly knit together.

"...That woman didn’t sound like she was lying," Lyra finally muttered.

"Future readers never do. Makes them bad liars and great performers."

"Gray..." She frowned.

He turned his head slightly and smiled at her, light and easy, the same smile he always wore.

"Come on," he laughed it off.

"If betrayal was enough to scare me, I would’ve died years ago."

"That’s not reassuring at all," Lyra replied, puffing her cheeks a little.

"Don’t worry about it, I won’t die anytime soon," Gray chuckled and squeezed her hand.

She stopped walking for half a step and looked at him properly.

"I’m serious."

"I know," he nodded, then leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough. "That’s why I’m joking. Someone has to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest."

Lyra froze, then turned her head away with a soft hmph.

"...You’re awful."

But she didn’t pull her hand away.

They continued walking, the sounds of the city growing quieter as lantern light stretched long shadows across the stone road.

Gray kept smiling, kept talking lightly about the circus, about the cake, about how she almost fainted when the crowd started chanting.

Lyra listened to his words and slowly relaxed again.

However, she didn’t notice when his steps grew a little slower... or when his gaze stopped wandering.

"...."

He stared straight ahead.

The smile on his lips remained, but his eyes had turned much colder than before.

’...Betrayal, huh?’