The Villain Bought the Heroine chapter 51

Chapter 51

“I specialize in spirit magic. How about having two elite spirits?”

Next.

“Oh, hello! I, I, I, I am.”

Next.

“hahahahaha! Long time no see, Alicia. You let your guard down in the class competition, but next time, through a fair fight?”

Next.

Wait a moment.

I really don’t understand what Leon was thinking when he applied. He jokingly passed the documents, but he’s a member of the student council in the first place. If he doesn’t leave the council, he can’t join the research club, so did he apply with the intention of leaving?

Anyway, despite being excellent in combat, lack of control leads to disqualification.

“Milord… Wouldn’t it be better to have a little more conversation?”

“Attitude and magical aura, a simple greeting is enough to know. There’s no need for a long conversation.”

“But aren’t you sorry for the people who supported you? I feel really sorry for chasing them away so ruthlessly.”

“Isn’t it better that the interviews proceed quickly? Knowing one thing and not knowing the other hinders progress, Emily.”

“…It’s strange. His tone of ignoring people is clearly irritating, but I can’t find the words to say. Is it because I’m getting used to it? …Serena, what do you think? Doesn’t it seem like things are progressing too quickly right now?”

“…It’s appropriate.”

“I think Bargan made the right choice.”

“Frida… How much did Bargan pay you?”

As the excitement of the interviews gradually waned, I was able to regain my fading focus as I looked into the next applicant’s profile.

It was the turn of one of the four individuals I was keeping an eye on among this round of applicants.

“My name is Beliar Troa Bantlor. I hold the position of an archer.”

Ranked 7th in admissions, the current strongest archer in the first year, Bantlor.

He, who is also one of Erica’s few close friends, has come to join Arbol Prutal.

“…”

Rarely, Serena showed signs of discomfort, seeming alert. It seemed like memories of her struggles against Bantlor in the class competition resurfaced.

Bantlor, on the other hand, showed a friendly smile. He didn’t seem fazed by her caution.

I know his general personality.

“You wrote that you want to receive teachings from me as your reason for applying. Do you expect me to give you bonus points?”

“No. I sincerely want to learn from Bargan, who has been famous for his genius since childhood. If there are any other intentions, it is simply a desire to build a friendship with Bargan during the teaching process, not any other impure thoughts.”

“Indeed, your flattery is of Alicia’s caliber.”

“…Milord?”

Beside me, Alicia blinked her large eyes in confusion. She genuinely seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. That aspect. The natural way she innocently pretends not to know is quite similar.

Bantlor smiles with his eyes, trying to move past the situation.

Well, up to this point, it was just a pastime, and now it’s time for the real questions.

“Erika might not be willing, but you seem ready to support her. I know you have a good relationship with my fiancée.”

“While she may influence my decision, I can’t choose. And to avoid misunderstandings, let me clarify in advance that I don’t harbor romantic feelings for Erika.”

“Did I come across as a petty person to you?”

“If anyone sees a lovely fiancée with someone of the opposite s*x, it would naturally raise concerns.”

“A lovely fiancée…”

“Not so?”

“Hmm…”

As I pretended to be lost in thought, I could feel the gazes of those around me focusing on me.

Alicia, trying not to look, subtly glanced as if unintentionally.

“I guess I can’t match up to the butler.”

“Butler…?”

“Yes, there’s nothing more lovely than a butler.”

“….”

Alright then.

Let’s leave it at that about Erika.

There are certain things that must be clarified to the noble ones with prominent noses.

“Arvol Frutal is all about meritocracy. I don’t know what favors you’ve enjoyed within the territory so far, but it doesn’t apply here.”

“I appreciate the recruitment guidelines you kindly provided. You mean that the group one belongs to will vary based on skill level, right?”

“Yes.”

Arvol Frutal is a research society existing for the boundless development of its members. Ultimately, it’s for my benefit, but regardless.

Four groups.

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Root, Trunk, Stem, Branch.

They are divided by importance and combat power in that order.

Root is the elite of Arvol Frutal.

Trunk is the advanced group.

Stem is the basic group.

Branch is the elementary group.

Since individual abilities vary significantly, there is a need to assign them to different groups accordingly. The content taught and tasks performed should also differ.

Isn’t it similar to how, in reality, students are placed in classes according to their abilities when they enter an academy and study together?

“I think it’s a good idea that aligns with the ideals of Academia. If tied to social status, we wouldn’t be able to nurture great heroes.”

“Even if one ends up in the basic group ‘Branch’ and becomes the target of others’ ridicule, do you have no complaints?”

“If my skills lag behind other applicants, I believe it’s fair.”

Perhaps it’s due to my peculiar nature. I like how smoothly everything is said with a gentle smile.

While it may seem like sugarcoating, ultimately, if I’m not deemed suitable compared to other applicants, then I won’t consider myself suitable.

Confidence in one’s abilities leads to a graceful response.

“You’re accepted.”

Bentlow seemed somewhat surprised by the sudden acceptance statement.

He may understand what I said, but he’s concerned about whether it’s appropriate to say it here and now.

“Is it alright?”

There is no hobby that lasts long. The clear outcome will be revealed immediately. You will belong to the “Neck Class.” You might have wanted to be part of the roots, but the newcomers to be selected this time cannot enter. After that, if the conditions are met, you will be promoted, so keep that in mind.

“You seem certain.”

“If you understand, then step back now. There are others waiting behind you.”

With that, Ventlo lightly paid his respects and stepped back. He showed a pleasant smile until right before leaving.

*Pat.*

He checks the next applicant’s profile.

Compared to Ventlo, they are far from sufficient, but there are decent talents waiting.

“Um… Are you really going to accept Ventlo?”

“Ventlo is an excellent sprout. What is there to be dissatisfied with, Emily?”

“Well… I’m not dissatisfied but…”

Emily glanced at Alicia and Serena. Then she awkwardly laughed, shaking her head as if nothing was wrong.

“I understand being cautious because of Erica, but there’s no need to worry.”

“That’s true… it is true but… um. No. Let’s call the next person.”

*Tock.*

The next applicant enters.

Many more applicants came and went thereafter.

The long and arduous interviews finally concluded over two hours later.

***

“33 in total. Suddenly, the members have increased significantly.”

“That’s right. The lord seemed quite pleased.”

“Did he…? I wasn’t sure.”

“The right corner of his mouth went up by 1mm diagonally. It seemed like a clear expression of satisfaction, didn’t it…?”

“No, no. I absolutely didn’t know that. How on earth do you know?”

After the interviews, Alicia and Emily walked down the corridor.

Alicia seemed to be questioning Emily with eyes that said, “Why don’t you know that?”

Emily was speechless in the face of such innocence.

“Is it because of your keen observation skills… or maybe because we’ve spent so much time together? Alicia seems to know everything about Bargan.”

“I still have a long way to go before becoming a useful informant.”

“….”

Alicia clenched her fists tightly.

Emily recalled the situation from the interview a while ago when she saw Alicia like that. She had been aware of Alicia’s keen observation skills for a long time, but she had never directly heard confirmation, so she wanted to hear it now.

“Alicia… you know.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Emily looked around. The long corridor was dim, with no one else around besides the two of them. This was the perfect opportunity to ask. Normally, she was always with Bargan.

Trying to maintain a nonchalant expression, Emily casually brought up the topic. She hoped Alicia wouldn’t hide her true feelings.

“Would it be okay for Ventlo to come in? That… relationship between Ventlo, Erica, and Bargan. It’s not a clear-cut situation, is it?”

“Is that so?”

In response to her innocent question, Emily hesitated before speaking.

“Erica and Bargan are engaged, right? Ventlo would fit in between them, creating a sort of triangle.”

“Yes….”

Gradually, Alicia’s voice softened.

Emily, thinking she hadn’t understood properly, went straight to the point.

“Hmm, was my expression too vague? So, Alicia likes Vargan?”

“No.”

She replied bluntly, cutting off Emily’s question.

“Uh…?”

Emily froze.

Alicia’s voice, unheard until now, was different from the lively one shown when facing Liam and Vargan.

Contrary to a firm tone.

Alicia still had a subtle smile.

Her moonlit smile, as always, made the viewer’s heart flutter and feel at ease.

However, Emily felt that her smile at this moment was somewhat artificially crafted. Also, desperate.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. But, I had to make it clear.”

Alicia said.

With great certainty.

“The emotions I should rightfully have towards the young master do not include ‘that.’ So, it’s not right.”

“But….”

Alicia keenly noticed Vargan’s minor actions or subtle changes. Her face blushed at his small kindness and compliments. No matter what she did, she spent her days thinking of Vargan and doing things for him.

It was excessive to say she had the qualifications for love.

If this wasn’t affection, then what was it?

Emily had a lot to say. She wanted to refute her statement.

But in the end, she swallowed her words.

“Is that so….”

“Yes, Emily.”

Alicia’s laughter.

That blue light illuminating the darkness.

“That’s how it is.”

Seemed somewhat melancholic.

***

The bedroom in complete darkness.

The shadowy figure surrounding something trembled softly. The sound of labored breathing seemed to resemble that of a suffering person.

“Cough… Ah….”

The lump of a shadowy figure.

The saint, Diphyelia, feared.

Wrapped tightly in her blanket out of fear, she stayed up through the night. Even a slight fever rose in her body. When she closed her eyes, it kept replaying. The memory that had flashed before Diphyelia not long ago.

As usual, an unexpected revelation.

However, the scene was significantly different from previous precedents.

A space engulfed in flames.

Altif, pouring in like a flood, slaughtered people, while warriors formed a defense, desperately trying to hold them back. Some of the Academy’s classmates were also visible. Though the atmosphere and appearance were slightly different from now, they were clearly them.

I couldn’t confirm everything, but the most striking figure remains in my memory. A woman with strikingly white hair stood out on the battlefield where blood was splattered, hunting down Altif.

Alicia.

Without a doubt, it was her. She was more mature than now, but her beautiful appearance remained the same. However, her aura and the weapon she held were different; devoid of emotion, she continued to pour magic onto her enemies with an impassive expression.

She was incredibly strong. Terrifyingly so.

“……”

Diphyelia tightened her grip on the blanket even more. As the events unfolded in her mind, she found herself tensing up involuntarily.

The leader of Altif’s army revealed himself, drawing all attention on the battlefield towards him. He was smiling. As if enjoying mocking everyone on the battlefield with his arrogant grin.

His appearance filled the world with darkness, and the heroes despaired. It was not just a simple metaphor or description; it was pure ‘despair’ itself.

Those holding swords dropped them and fell to the ground. Screaming and shedding blood was common, and there were those attempting suicide.

Those with bows and accessories aimed at their comrades, shooting arrows and magic. They shed tears of blood, screaming in protest. Like puppets being controlled.

In the midst of that terrible hell, Alicia emerged like a ray of light.

She wielded her staff towards the mastermind behind all this chaos. Clouds parted, and the earth trembled with her magic. Alicia was emotionless. She cast her magic coldly, as if looking at a living machine.

As Alicia confronted the man, the instigator of all this, his expression contorted. He seemed to be muttering curses. The sinister smile that had been on his lips just a while ago twisted grotesquely.

It was resentment, anger, lament…

And beyond that, it was hatred.

“Vargan….”

Looking at him, her future self, Diphyelia, whispered softly. She didn’t shed tears, but the waves of emotions within her were undeniable, like witnessing a tragedy.

“……”

The battlefield continued in a state that was hard to watch even in sanity.

Amidst a large-scale magical ritual like none seen before, people were engulfed in madness, while those who survived rushed to face Vargan.

Yet, to Diphyelia, the most insane figure was not those struggling in Vargan’s magic.

Vargan.

Facing numerous heroes and colleagues from the Academia alone, he emitted immense power, seeming to be consumed by uncontrollable emotions.

Ironically, the one manipulating the magical ritual at will was now being consumed by it.

Even Vargan, with all his might, couldn’t withstand the combined forces of resilient heroes. A massive sword made of magic pierced his heart. It was Alicia’s magic.

Vargan fell to his knees on the blood-stained ground. His once elegant suit was now drenched in a deep crimson, mixed with the blood of others.

As Alicia’s magic faded, his chest was pierced in the shape of the sword. Blood overflowed from his mouth like a waterfall. And his crimson lips moved.

The golden knight, Artellion, sensing something, furrowed his brows and swiftly raised his sword, intending to slit his throat. In that brief moment, Vargan raised his head and smiled. With eyes full of venom, cursing those who survived.

Though distant, the saintly Diphyelia understood the words that escaped his lips.

His final words.

Kugugugug?!

Everyone sensed a change.

Artellion trampled over Vargan’s lifeless body. It was an act of rage. The golden knight had made a mistake. Vargan shouldn’t have been killed like this. His death was essential for the completion of the prayer.

As if turning a page in a book.

As if two worlds met.

A massive distortion occurred in space.

The exhausted heroes watched the supernatural phenomenon in awe. The most prevalent emotion in their eyes was ‘fear’ alone.

Diphyelia trembled so violently for a reason; it was due to the emergence of the dark army after Vargan’s death. Among them, a ‘dominant presence.’ A being so complete that all creatures in the world seemed insignificant.

The gap is different.

It’s a death from a different dimension.

The moment the intellect’s body steps onto the wretched land like that.

The trust comes to an end.

“Cough, cough… gasp…!”

As if submerged in water. It was difficult for Dipiellia to breathe. She forced herself to expand her prayers, inhaling and exhaling. Still, it wasn’t easy.

Terrifying.

Scary.

So very terrifying.

Is this the future waiting for us?

Is this the enemy we must face ahead?

Dipiellia’s insides shook to the core. It was unclear how to proceed.

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It’s not because her eyes are blinded.

The path of darkness etched in her eyes right now was a definite tragedy.

Despite the unfolding of events deviating from the tragedy that seemed to be the endpoint by Vargan, Dipiellia had no idea how to proceed. The saint entrusted was lost.

“Vargan… Vargan….”

She murmured Vargan’s name.

Then perhaps she had some clues. Perhaps she knew something. …But, is it okay to bring up this story? In the trust, he was clearly hostile to the heroes and devoted to the goddess….

A deep night swallowed by darkness.

A night where fear devoured dreams.

Saint Dipiellia, unable to sleep, sets out to find her right choice.

“Vargan… Vargan….”

Continuing to murmur the same words.