Ascension Of The Villain

Chapter 121: Beautiful Illusion



Chapter 121: Beautiful Illusion

The forest hummed with whispers, anticipating the spectacle about to unfold. A group of imperial knights sat astride their horses, poised for the hunt. At the forefront, the three princes of their empire readied themselves.

If only Izac had a shred of leadership skills and Ronan was a little older, we could have formed three factions and earned the most kills with ease, Easton calculated. But in this situation, leaving those two unsupervised would be a disaster waiting to happen.

"Izac, Ronan, you will follow my lead and stay with the knights," Easton commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ronan nodded curtly, while Izac shrugged with an air of indifference.

"What does it matter if we stick together or not? You will just hog all the glory as usual. Ronan and I might as well be invisible," Izac retorted, his words sharp.

"What I am saying is for your own betterment." Easton shot a glance at the surrounding knights before steering his horse closer to Izac. "If you have got a problem with me, save it for home. Don't embarrass our family here."

"Oh, you think I am embarrassing the family?" Izac scoffed. "You know what? I don't have to stand here and listen to your barking orders. I don't need this humiliation."

"When have I humiliated you? Izac, stop—" Easton began, but Izac was already spurring his horse away. Frustrated, he muttered, "What is his problem today?" Izac acted however he wished all the time, but he had never acted like this before.

"I don't know. He has been in a foul mood since this morning," Ronan said, his expression impassive.

Mhmm, Izac should be fine, right? Surely, he is not stupid enough to roam the forest all alone on this day, Easton thought to himself as the monsters today would be far more dangerous than yesterday.

Then, Easton's eyes narrowed on Ronan. "What about you? Weren't you supposed to participate with House Preaton as their heir?"

"I don't feel like it anymore," Ronan replied, his face a blank mask.

Did something go wrong with yesterday's duel? Easton's curiosity about the duel between Vyan and Duke Preaton flickered, but he knew better than to ask any of Vyan's close associates. They were as tight-lipped as a sealed tomb.

"Very well then. Even if Izac is not joining us, we will still claim victory," Easton declared to the knights, his voice brimming with resolve. "As the Imperial Family of Haynes, we cannot afford to lose. At any cost!"

As the imperial knights roared in response, the second prince found himself alone. Sticking around to watch Easton flaunt his superiority held no appeal for him.

Besides, his mood was already soured, courtesy of a certain elusive little bird slipping through his fingers.

Last night, after catching a fleeting glimpse of Freya, he had scoured the grounds with the fervor of a madman but came up empty-handed. It made him question if she had been nothing more than his imagination.

If she weren't an illusion, what could she possibly be doing here? There was no way any noble house would hire her; he had ensured that personally. Maybe she had picked up work with the catering service?

He was certain that once every door was slammed in her face, she would have no choice but to come crawling back to him.

He had almost forgotten about her in the year since she got exiled from the palace, but now, his mind was once again plagued by thoughts of her. She was the first person to ever turn him down, and the sting of that rejection was as fresh as ever. How could he forget that?

"Oh, well, I should go back and relax. I have no business roaming around here all alone. Mother would be furious if I ended up getting hurt," Izac concluded.

Just as he was about to turn back, thinking it was all in vain, a figure caught his eye.

Standing near a big rock, bathed in the soft morning light, was Freya. Her brown hair cascaded over her white cloak, and her warm brown eyes sparkled with an almost otherworldly allure.

"Little bird?" Izac's voice was full of disbelief, echoing through the tranquil forest. "What are you doing here?"

Freya didn't respond but simply smiled, a tantalizing curve of her lips that promised solace and secrets. With a graceful motion, she beckoned him closer, her movements fluid and mesmerizing.

Mesmerized, Izac dismounted his horse. He felt drawn to her, as if by an invisible force, his earlier frustrations dissolving in her presence.

"Are you an illusion?" he murmured, stepping closer. "Because it feels like it."

Freya's smile widened, her eyes glinting with a strange light. "Yes," she whispered, her silky voice brushing against his ears.

"You are such a beautiful illusion then." Izac reached out, his fingers almost touching her skin. That was when, with a surprising burst of energy, she pushed him.

"Ahh!" Before he knew it, he was tumbling down a small cliff of about fifteen feet.

He landed hard, the breath knocked out of him, and before he could comprehend what had happened, he found himself surrounded by shadows.

The howling began, low and menacing, and Izac panicked, his heart racing with fear. Shadows moved around him, closing in with a feral hunger in their glowing eyes.

"Help… Help!" Desperation surged through him as he struggled to rise, but pain shot through his leg as one of the beasts lunged, its teeth sinking into his flesh.

"Ahhh!" He cried out, trying to fend off the creature, but they were relentless.

Desperately, he reached for his sword, only to find his scabbard empty. His sword was gone. He frantically looked around, realizing too late that it had been sneakily taken away during the brief encounter with Freya.

The realization dawned on him—this was no dream. It was a meticulously crafted nightmare.

And Freya had led him straight into it.

"Why?" he gasped. "Why are you doing this to me, little bird?"

The figure above looked down with a cold smile. "Because you deserve it," she said, her voice now tinged with a mocking tone.

It was then that Izac realized—this wasn't Freya. It was someone else, using Freya's visage to exact a cruel punishment.

"You..." Izac's voice faltered as the pain intensified, the creatures closing in on him. "You won't get away with this."

The imposter's laughter echoed eerily. "Oh, but I already have," he replied. "Now, why don't you get a taste of your own medicine, you fucking degenerate? Because you are no different than a hungry monster to a helpless woman."

"Who are you— argh! Ahh!"

Ignoring his desperate cries, the imposter turned and disappeared into thin air, leaving Izac to face the monstrous fate that awaited him.

The imposter teleported and reappeared in front of Clyde, who was lounging against a tree with two horses tied nearby. "Well, look at you, actually getting your hands dirty for once. I was convinced you would delegate this to me, like always."

With a flick of his wrist, Freya's appearance dissolved into Vyan's, the simple white cloak transforming into the majestic ensemble of a Grand Duke. Vyan chuckled and said, "I would have, but I had a personal vendetta against Izac."

Clyde's face darkened, his usual brightness placed by a rare burst of fury. "Oh, right. That bastard was the one to give you a death sentence."

Vyan gave him a comforting pat on the back, which did little to soften Clyde's scowl. "Come on, let's catch up with our knights soon, or else, Sir Jacques will have us running laps when we get home until we forget what a horse looks like."

Clyde shivered visibly at the thought and scrambled onto his horse, with Vyan swiftly following suit.

Just as they were about to set off, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

"Help!! Someone save us—"

The scream was quickly followed by a monstrous growl. Once they reached the location, Clyde was the first to gasp.

"Vyan… it's a bloody massacre."


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