Transmigrated as a Fat villain: All heroines are after me

Chapter 62 - 62 - A Glimpse in the Future.

Chapter 62: Chapter 62 - A Glimpse in the Future.

<Dragon POV>

The boy took me to his home, and there, I noticed a ring similar to the one Adriannel wore. Arriving at his place, I contemplated that before regaining my full power, I should engage in some human interaction. The humans began injecting mana into an eggshell, piquing my appetite once more.

'Did this puny human think I will treat him as my guardian or something? How dare he,' I thought with a hint of annoyance as the mana began to reach my body. It tasted different, almost otherworldly, akin to sweet honey.

I couldn't resist indulging myself, losing track of time and falling asleep. But before drifting off, I contemplated the idea of having him as my guardian. 'Wouldn't be that bad,' I conceded.

During the night, I woke up, sensing the peaceful surroundings and realizing it was time to leave this space. Breaking free from the eggshell, I noticed the boy sleeping peacefully.

'Be glad, human, I choose you as my new master,' I intended to say but couldn't help recalling a dreadful memory of a woman who had treated me as a slave. Shivers ran down my spine just thinking about her. To avoid invoking that memory, I decided to not use Master word and act cute instead and let out a playful "Kyu~."

Morning came, and the boy and I bickered. Thanks to my impeccable acting, he didn't seem to doubt me. His mana was something to behold – enormous like Adriannel's and dense like that woman's.

In my whole life, I had been humiliated by two women. However, it was fine now. I had no connection to Adriannel in this life, so I'd never meet that woman again. As for the other one, she should be in her estate.

Then the boy spoke about giving me lots of mana. It felt cringe-worthy to act like that, but whatever. After all, I was now "Little Pumpkin." I happily accepted him as my new "Mas...Guardian." The word 'master' brought back dreadful memories of that woman treating me like a slave. Whenever I heard that word, it filled me with discomfort.

We made our way to the classroom, and I spotted that Hedrian Queen again. I was content with the human, as if she became my new mama, that would be good, given her kind-hearted nature.

However, the human rejected the notion, but added 'yet.' This meant that she would eventually become my mama. I had made up my mind to help this human win her heart.

As he took his seat, I noticed a woman beside him. I inquired as a formality, not paying much attention, my gaze fixated on the Hedrian woman once more. But then I heard him say, "She is your mama, isn't she cute?"

Those words reached my ears, and I gazed at the girl who resembled that same woman – the same light caramel hair and slightly green eyes. I trembled and felt a cold sweat forming. What was she doing here?

<Future Glimpse>.....

In the sprawling kingdom of Vendal, dominated by the grandeur of the imperial palace, Queen Alora vi Vendal reigned supreme, her ascent to power marked by the ruthless subjugation of her own brothers. The palace itself was a monumental structure that mirrored the queen's unyielding will.

Within the palace, in an opulent office adorned with intricate tapestries and gilded furnishings, Queen Alora was engrossed in her work.

Her regal presence was accentuated by her flowing blonde hair and an air of undeniable authority. It was a rare moment of reprieve, disrupted only by the entrance of her loyal butler.

"Forgive me, your majesty," he began, his voice a deferential murmur, "but Count is refusing to accept our titillage."

The queen paused for a moment, her piercing blue eyes fixed on a document before her. "Where is he?" Her voice, elegant and smooth, held a note of intrigue.

"He is waiting in the guest room, your majesty."

"Very well," she replied, her tone masking any emotion. "Call him to my presence, and please, prepare a pot of our finest green tea."

As the butler hastened to carry out her orders, an air of trepidation lingered in his wake. He knew all too well the fate that awaited Count – a fate he himself had experienced.

The queen's methods of control were both subtle and cruel, leaving those who defied her with no escape.

As the butler departed, Queen Alora allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Her thoughts drifted to a particular individual who had eluded her grasp thus far – Marchioness Thalia Crimwell.

Thalia's simultaneous rise to power had made her an elusive target, a thorn in the side of Queen Alora's ambition. For now, the queen was focused on one thing – bringing her under her control, just as she had done with so many others.

"Greetings, your majesty," Count Roderick hesitantly entered the room, his noble posture a stark contrast to the unease etched on his face.

"Come in, Count," Queen Alora replied, her gaze fixed on a scroll as if the impending conversation was of little consequence. "I heard you are against accepting my sovereignty."

The queen's voice held a chilling composure, making it clear that defiance would not be tolerated.

"It's not possible, your majesty," Count Roderick stammered, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "You are the only one to whom I am devoted."

A knowing smirk played on Queen Alora's lips. "Oh, is that so? But I've heard rumors that you've been showing favor to the Marchioness, Count."

The count squirmed in his seat, growing increasingly uncomfortable under the queen's piercing gaze.

"Whatever, sit, Count," the queen said nonchalantly, her attention now focused on her tea. She took a delicate sip, gesturing for him to do the same. Count Roderick, confident that his position protected him from poison, complied.

"Now, Count," Queen Alora spoke abruptly, her voice as cold as ice, "I will be straightforward with you. Become my slave."

The count was taken aback, his face a mask of disbelief and anger. He began to protest, "Your majesty, how da—"

Before he could finish his sentence, excruciating pain surged through his chest, and he let out a guttural scream.

"Aaarghhh!!"

He clutched his chest, struggling to endure the agony that felt like his very heart was being torn apart.

"I am waiting," the queen declared, her tone unwavering, as she calmly resumed reading her documents.

"AaaaAAagggGGGhhHhhHHh!!!"

The room was filled with Count Roderick's agonized screams, echoing off the opulent walls.

"You can take your time," she added, her indifference palpable.

Outside the room, the palace servants who overheard the tormented cries felt a mix of pity and relief. They knew all too well that to prove one's loyalty to the queen, they, too, had endured a similar excruciating ordeal.