The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

Chapter 285

The darkness is closing in.

A darkness that could extinguish all the lights in the office was converging on Hanna's sword.

-Gruuu...

The faint trembling and vibrations snuffed out the candles in the office one by one, calling to Rowen's hesitant sword.

"What have you done?"

Rowen asked Hanna.

What on earth had she done?

Because a black aura was a symbol of impurity.

For a swordsman's aura, formed by the wind, to take on such an ominous color, there could only be one explanation.

'Dark Magic.'

Rowen asked Hanna with trembling eyes, but her sword had long since fallen from her hand.

"Histania Hanna!"

"..."

"I'm asking you...!"

-Swick.

Rowen's words, filled with anger, were cut short. Hanna's sword had touched his body.

From a distance, Hanna's sword struck heavily, leaving a small wound before disappearing.

"...This is."

Rowen looked at Hanna with trembling eyes, wondering what she had done.

It wasn't a feint, nor was it a slash imbued with aura. Rowen, who had been cut by a sword swung through mere empty space, couldn't hide his confusion.

-Swick.

"..."

Without a reply, Hanna's sword lashed out again. Rowen gritted his teeth and endured, not wanting to show a disgraceful side to his daughter’s capriciousness.

"You will have to explain in detail."

With a mix of concern and anger, Rowen spoke to Hanna.

Hanna looked down at her sword with trembling eyes, startled by how naturally it moved with 'intent' as if it were second nature.

'Is this... my power?'

Her vision blurred.

With the overwhelming power coursing through her body and the ringing in her ears, she felt as though she might lose consciousness at any moment.

It was as if someone was whispering 'kill' in her ear. Her hand holding the sword trembled, and a rage that felt like it would burst her chest began to rise.

At this rate.

"Histania Hanna."

She felt as though she would be swept away by the sword.

In a trembling voice, Hanna spoke to Rowen.

"The sword."

"..."

"Hold it."

Hanna's sword began to dance.

*

Blood dripped down.

The blood welling up from Rowen, who had steadfastly refused to draw his sword, soaked the documents on the desk as it fell.

"Why..."

In a trembling voice, Hanna asked Rowen. Was it still not enough? With resentment, she shouted, asking how much more effort it would take for him to draw his sword.

"Why... won't you draw your sword...? Why... why!!"

Rowen pressed his lips tightly together and remained silent.

"I cannot wield a sword."

"...Is it still not enough?"

"..."

"Is it because I still don't measure up in your eyes?"

"No."

With a heavy heart, Rowen spoke to Hanna.

"It’s because I am not ready yet."

"Ready. Ready... That damn readiness!!!"

"Histania Hanna."

"I don’t want to hear it!"

-Swick.

Hanna's sword, filled with intense emotions, danced again, but Rowen remained silent as he watched her fragile sword.

Hanna's sword was fragile.

Just one thing.

The pain of feeling like his heart was being torn apart. That was the greatest pain Rowen felt. He believed all of this was happening because of him. He couldn't lift his head under the weight of guilt.

Looking at Hanna's sword, Rowen spoke.

"You are still too fragile."

"...How long are you going to keep saying that?"

"For wielding a sword, for hurting others, you are far too fragile."

"Shut your mouth."

As Hanna swung her sword with her eyes tightly shut, Rowen closed his eyes.

Now, he felt like he finally understood the path.

Why that person had told him to find the way himself. Why the Young Lady had scolded him. Now, he felt like he was finally grasping and moving forward.

Yes. What I must do is...

"I am your..."

Apology...

At the moment Rowen's words fell.

[The fairy tale begins.]

A massive killing intent began to engulf Rowen. The killing intent that made even a Sword Master's shoulders tremble forced Rowen to take a step back to avoid Hanna's sword.

-Swick.

Ignoring the distance, Hanna's sword reached Rowen, leaving a deep wound on his arm.

'What is going on..?'

Rowen, wounded by a sword he thought he had understood, frowned and looked at Hanna. He couldn't figure out what kind of technique she was using.

It couldn’t be called aura.

No, this was like.

It was as if the constraints of space had been defied.

"You’ve learned something strange from that person."

Rowen ground his teeth.

And as Rowen drew his sword, Hanna smirked and murmured softly.

"Ha... It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Father’s office."

Hanna took a deep breath and smiled. Then, looking instinctively at Rowen’s hand gripping the sword, she let out a sharp laugh.

"You’ve drawn your sword?"

"Hanna...?"

"Yes~! Histania Hanna, your daughter."

"..."

At her cold voice, Rowen frowned and doubted her. The woman standing before him didn’t seem like Hanna. She felt like a deeper presence—no, like an Apostle.

Looking at himself, unknowingly gripping his sword, Hanna let out an exclamation.

"Wow..."

Hanna glanced at Rowen and shrugged her shoulders.

"You’re finally sparring with me."

"..."

"I begged you to do it just once on my birthday, and now you’re doing it? What an honor."

"...This kind of exchange isn’t sparring. It’s called a battle."

"I didn’t want to spar with you like this either, but what can I do? My grudge is just too deep for that."

Hanna chuckled bitterly as she spoke to Rowen.

"How is it? My sword?"

"..."

"Wasn’t it strong?"

"...Histania Hanna."

"It has to be at this level to catch Father’s attention, right? You have to do whatever it takes."

Hanna clicked her tongue at Rowen, as if she had become a completely different person.

"Say something, Father. Don’t just mumble like a mute with honey in your mouth."

Rowen swallowed hard at the sight of Hanna’s sword, burning black as coal.

"The sword."

-Srrng.

"Draw it."

-Rumble...!

As Hanna’s sword lunged forward, Rowen unsheathed his sword.

The sword bestowed upon him by the Emperor.

It wasn’t because of his daughter’s request that he drew his sword. It was because he felt that if he didn’t, he would suffer a grave injury. The sword, imbued with killing intent and slowly extending toward him, felt different from any Hanna had wielded before.

-Clench.

Yes, as if mocking the Sword of the Empire itself.

The blue blade revealed from the sword sheath struck Hanna’s sword heavily. Rowen shut his eyes tightly at the jarring vibration and looked at Hanna.

"Get a hold of yourself, Histania Hanna."

Hanna shrugged lightly and slowly traced a horizontal arc with her sword.

"One."

"...!"

Rowen’s defense faltered, leaving bloodstains on his body. Hanna asked, looking at Rowen, whose eyes were trembling.

"Does it hurt?"

"..."

"You shouldn’t say it hurts with just this much."

"..."

"That person..."

"..."

"They hurt more than you."

"..."

At Hanna’s hollow words, Rowen gripped his sword again. And Hanna swung her sword once more.

"Two."

-Slash.

"Three."

-Grit...!

Seeing Rowen groan faintly, Hanna raised the corners of her lips in a bitter smile. After all, she was likely the first person to push the Sword of the Empire to this extent.

"Even now, do you still find me unreliable, Father?"

"..."

"I trained desperately with the sword. Just to earn your recognition."

"Focus on the sword."

"Yes, I should. I really should…"

-Slash.

"But this, as you said, can’t really be called sparring, can it? Don’t you agree?"

Hanna asked, looking at Rowen, who was bleeding.

"Why aren’t you using your aura?"

"..."

"If it’s you, you could easily defeat me. You could take my head without even having to parry my sword. So why..."

"Because you’re not a criminal."

Hanna awkwardly laughed and nodded.

"Ah... That’s right. I’m not a criminal right now."

Hanna let out a hollow laugh as she slowly gathered her aura, as if signaling the true beginning.

"Come on, raise your sword."

"..."

"Just like when you came to kill me, Father."

"What did you just say...?"

"Why?"

-Bang...!

"Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?"

As Hanna’s sword charged forward, Rowen exhaled deeply and raised his sword.

And then.

-Clang.

For the first time, Hanna’s sword clashed with his, shaking the ground beneath them.

The reverberating cry of the swords made the curtains in the estate dance. Papers in the office scattered everywhere. Rowen’s liquor glass shattered. In the chaos of the wrecked office, only Hanna’s hollow laughter echoed.

"I struggled so much."

"..."

"Do you know how much I cried because of you?"

"Grrr...!"

"I... I cursed that person because of you... So why don’t you sacrifice anything at all?"

Hanna’s sword carved a horizontal slash, leaving a deeper darkness in the shadows.

Rowen raised his sword in response, and as golden aura began to bloom at the tip of his blade, Hanna smirked bitterly and stepped on the tip of his sword.

"You’re too slow."

Light and darkness.

Knight and criminal.

At the moment the two opposites collided, the resonant sound of clashing blades shattered the office’s glass window, scattering shards across the floor.

With a crunching sound, Hanna stepped on the glass fragments and pointed the tip of her sword at Rowen.

And she murmured softly.

"Histania First Style."

At the sight of the sword form that only the head of the family could learn, Rowen’s pupils trembled violently.

"That sword..."

"Yes, Father’s sword."

A small gust began to gather around Hanna’s sword. The Sword of Histania, preserved and refined from past generations to the present, was unleashed without giving Rowen even a moment’s reprieve.

"Invisible."

Rowen quickly twisted his body, attempting to counter with his sword again.

"Second Style. Nameless."

Overwhelmed by the relentless torrent of Hanna’s sword strikes, Rowen had no choice but to be swept away. Amid the storm of swordplay, Hanna’s voice rang in his ears.

"Why... didn’t you come to save me?"

"What...?"

"Why... did you leave me to die in that cold cave?"

As Hanna’s trembling voice echoed, Rowen’s pupils shook violently, his mind racing with questions about how she knew that story.

But Hanna.

"Pfft... Hahaha!! Ah... What’s with that expression?"

She burst into laughter, like someone intoxicated with pleasure.

"Ah... This is driving me crazy."

"..."

"Why are you so scared? What have I even done?"

Rowen, his voice trembling, asked Hanna.

"Who are you?"

Hanna tilted her head and asked Rowen.

"Why?"

"..."

"Or are you planning to kill me?"

"Hanna!"

"Pfft... I am Father's daughter..."

Hanna shook her head as if disappointed, gazing into the empty space.

"Ah, I shouldn't say any more. Honestly, I'm already walking a fine line here. Anyway."

Hanna picked up her sword and spoke to Rowen.

"Please, don't hate him too much."

Hanna handed the sword, filled with deep darkness, to Rowen.

And then.

At the moment Hanna's sword touched Rowen's neck.

Between Rowen's trembling eyes, the sound of a "clang" echoed.

Hanna, tears streaming down her face, let go of the sword.

"Why... did you do it?"

[Withstand Histania Rowen's First Strike. (1/1)]

The sword that had always seemed so distant finally reached Rowen.