CHAPTER 275: SECOND VILLAIN ACT [7]

Alice Draken... for the first time in a long while, she felt fear.

As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t deny it.

Ever since losing her original body and being forced to live as a human, she had crossed blades and clashed with countless so-called strong ones in this short span of time. Heroes, villains, magicians, monsters—none of them had made her heart waver.

...But what she felt just moments ago was different.

It was a long-forgotten sensation, buried deep beneath arrogance and habit.

Her instincts screamed at her to run.

The ethical choice—the one demanded of her as both a hero and an educator—was to report this immediately, to call a higher-ranked hero and wash her hands of the matter. That would’ve been the right decision.

But she couldn’t do it.

Because of the Everdusk Stone.

The man in the demon mask had spoken of it as though it was nothing, as though it could simply be handed over. The very thing she had searched for relentlessly, something she could never grasp despite all her power, despite all her sacrifices.

And more than that—because the one who had made her feel fear just now... was also the only one she believed could truly grant her wish.

She couldn’t bring herself to walk away.

"...I’ll ask one last thing," she said, her voice quieter than she intended. "What exactly is your goal? Are you planning to conquer the world or something?"

The man tilted his head, silent for a moment, as if weighing the truth against her worthiness to hear it. Then, finally, his voice came low, steady, and terrifyingly certain.

—Not entirely wrong. He will become the sole order. The standard by which all things are measured. Whether you choose to stand beside Him, who reigns as a symbol... or bow your head before Him, the choice is yours.

His words settled into her like iron.

Alice stood there in silence, heart pounding, knowing full well she had just stepped into something she couldn’t turn away from.

Alice clenched her fists at her sides.

The certainty in his tone—it wasn’t arrogance. It was conviction. Unshakable. Unyielding. The kind of belief only someone who had already glimpsed the end of the road could speak with.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She wanted to argue, to scoff, to laugh at the sheer madness of his declaration. But nothing left her throat.

Because deep down... she knew.

He wasn’t bluffing.

A shiver ran down her spine as she met that abyssal presence head-on. His masked gaze didn’t waver, didn’t bend, didn’t acknowledge her strength or her fear—it only measured her.

And then—

He was gone.

No sound, no trace. One blink and the figure in the demon mask had simply melted into the shadows, leaving behind only the oppressive weight of his words.

The training hall, once suffocating with his presence, felt too empty now. The silence rang louder than any explosion.

"...Haha." Her laugh cracked as it left her lips, dry and humorless. She raised a trembling hand, running it through her hair. "Shit."

Her knees felt weak, but she forced herself to stand tall.

"I messed with the wrong person, didn’t I?" she whispered to herself, the smile that formed on her lips bitter and cold.

Even as she said it, she knew it was true.

"...A choice, huh. Sounds nice."

Her voice trailed off into the empty night air. For the first time in a long while, she realized she didn’t quite know how to feel.

It was too late to be wandering outside any longer. The academy grounds were quiet, shadows stretching long under the moonlight.

"I should go back," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Whatever decision she had to make, she could think about it tomorrow. Right now, she needed to return—back to her room, back to something familiar, something safe.

But as she turned on her heel, a stray thought slipped into her mind.

’...Why did he call me out like that in the first place?’

It wasn’t as if she’d been the only one he could have spoken to. He’d chosen her—singled her out. That fact alone unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

She exhaled, shaking her head.

It wasn’t important. She could just ask him next time.

...If there even was a next time.

And whether he would answer her at all was another question entirely.

The walk back to her quarters felt longer than usual. Every step echoed faintly against the stone path, too loud for her liking.

Normally, she would’ve been humming or checking her communicator, maybe even rehearsing tomorrow’s lecture in her head. But now... her thoughts wouldn’t settle.

Her fingers brushed absently against her side, as if expecting to find a wound that wasn’t there. It wasn’t pain that lingered—it was weight.

Pressure. That presence still clung to her skin like smoke, even though he was gone.

She clicked her tongue and quickened her pace.

It wasn’t fear of being attacked—she was confident enough in her own strength to deal with anything the academy grounds could throw at her. No, what gnawed at her wasn’t fear of him hurting her.

It was the fear of not knowing what he would do.

Alice hated uncertainty.

That was the cruelest part about tonight.

For years, she had built herself into someone untouchable, someone who could look anyone in the eye and laugh, no matter who or what they were.

Losing her body hadn’t broken her. Living among humans hadn’t broken her. Being forced to wear the mask of an "educator" hadn’t broken her.

But this man—this masked figure—he hadn’t even lifted a finger against her. And yet... he had managed to shake her.

Alice stopped walking. Her reflection wavered faintly in the glass of a nearby window. Her face looked the same as always—confident, sharp, dangerous.

But her eyes...

She narrowed them, leaning closer to her own reflection.

"...Pathetic," she muttered under her breath. "One conversation, and you’re rattled like a rookie."