Ascension Of The Villain

While everyone held their breaths in the audience, on the battleground, Pembrooke roared at his cornered prey who appeared to be at his mercy and was awaiting the one final slash from his sword.

However, Vyan was right on the money when he said Iyana would find a way. She always did.

With a deep breath, Iyana planted her feet firmly into the ground, her aura flaring to life with renewed strength. Instead of trying to find a way to escape this situation, she decided to face him head-on. The silver light that surrounded her blazed even brighter, swirling around her like a protective shield.

As Pembrooke's sword finally came crashing down, Iyana's own blade met his with a deafening clang, sparks flying from the impact.

And then, she saw her opening.

With a swift movement, she went under his arm and flipped their position. Before Pembrooke could react, Iyana delivered a deep slash to his side.

He staggered against the wall, the force of her attack momentarily disrupting his wild power.

But it wasn't enough to stop him—a man who could no longer feel any pain. Pembrooke screamed in fury, swinging blindly in a desperate attempt to regain control.

Iyana, however, had no intention to let him gain the momentum again. So, she activated her Aura in full blow, each and every one of her slashes pushing back Pembrooke into the now hole for a wall.

And then, in one final, decisive move, she spun on her heel, her blade cutting through with a blinding flash.

Pembrooke's sword flew from his hand, clattering to the ground. He quickly made a move to grab it back, but Iyana didn't waste a second to hold her sword at his neck.

"It's over, Sir Pembrooke," Iyana uttered, staring into his eyes with the sort of finality that made his legs give out beneath him and collapse to the ground. Discover more stories at m,v l'e|m-p| y r

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the crowd erupted in bone-chilling cheers, the sound so powerful it seemed to shake the very foundations of the arena.

Iyana stood above her fallen opponent, her chest heaving, the silver glow of her aura slowly fading. She smiled to herself with a short-lasting sense of victory and pride.

The arbiter's voice boomed across the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, the duel has finally reached its conclusion, and the person who has emerged as the winner of this duel and the new commander of the imperial military is none other than Dame Iyana Pearl Estelle!"

She turned, raising her sword to the sky in acknowledgment of her title.

The cheers intensified, a roar of approval that seemed to sweep through the arena like wildfire. But Iyana barely heard it as her eyes locked on Pembrooke's fallen form.

This wasn't the victory she had expected when she woke up this morning. But it was hers all the same.

Sheathing her sword, Iyana gazed down at Pembrooke, she only managed to ask the one question that kept bugging her, "Why… why did you do that?"

"What do you mean?" Pembrooke responded, his voice sounding defeated and hopeless. The effect of his pills must have completely worn off.

"I mean, why would you stoop to the level of taking strength-amplification drugs? It was pretty obvious to anybody watching. Don't you know how shameless it is as a knight such as us?"

Pembrooke's eyes flickered, a brief flash of bitterness crossing his face. "Isn't it obvious too why I did it? I was obviously willing to cast away my sense of shame if it meant defeating you. And that guy… he assured me that nobody would be able to guess it."

Iyana's brow furrowed at the venom in his tone, but her mind immediately locked onto the word that mattered most. That guy. "Who is 'that guy'?" she asked, a sharp edge of suspicion lacing her words.

Pembrooke rolled his eyes, grumbling, "It was an unknown man."

"And what did he look like?"

"I don't remember. He looked ordinary. Dark brown hair, light brown eyes."

Where… where have I seen someone like— wait, no. Please tell me no. Not him. Shit.

Iyana's heart twisted painfully, recalling the appearance Vyan had taken as he left the military quarters yesterday morning. He had taken on the disguise of a very ordinary-looking man with that exact description.

But why… Why would Vyan want me to be defeated?

———

Iyana headed towards her waiting room to get ready into her formal uniform to receive her title on the stage from the empress (since the emperor was sick).

In the meantime, her mind had gone to places it probably shouldn't have. Why did she feel the need to ask Pembrooke about who gave him the drugs? And why did it have to be Vyan? Not to mention, why would he do something like this?

Had his love finally crossed into the obsessive boundaries, like Leila had told her? Did he now feel the need for her to cut off her wings so that it was easier for her to, what, manage his household in the future?

She wouldn't be surprised by such a mentality from other men, because that was what the norm was. But she never expected such a thing from Vyan.

He had always encouraged her to achieve her dreams, never once demotivating her. So, why?

She couldn't find any legitimate explanation to that question. It made no sense. Her mind was so boggled that she couldn't think straight anymore. She had too much going on in her head.

She burst into the waiting room. All the pent-up frustration was bubbling dangerously close to the surface as she roughly began pulling off her battle gear. Her breaths were sharp and her fists clenched.

She was ready to change back into her regular uniform when she froze seeing the figure leaning casually against the wall.

Vyan tilted his head, smiling. "So, like I was promised," he began, "a victory kiss?"

For a moment, she stared at him. Awestruck. No, not that. Baffled was more accurate.

How could he stand there looking all normal, so proud and nonchalant, after the stunt he had pulled?

"You…" Her anger flared, and like any person with the desire to live, Vyan spotted the immediate danger for him.

"What?" he asked, his voice a tinge of nervousness.

Without a word, she marched toward him like a soldier ready to crush her enemy. Vyan instantly pushed himself off the wall and stepped to the side.

"Um, Iyana... why does it look like you are about to beat me up?" His voice wavered with cautious humor.

"Because that's exactly what you deserve," she growled.

Seeing her face twisted in rage, Vyan instinctively closed his eyes—even though he had no idea why—and braced himself as she swung her fist. He winced, fully expecting impact.

But nothing came.

Opening one eye reluctantly, he saw her fist hanging in the air, her face contorted with restrained frustration. With a furious groan, she punched the empty space beside him.

"I swear to God, if I didn't lo—" She stopped herself with a strangled noise of frustration. "I would have killed you right now."

Vyan nervously tried to intervene, "Um—"

But she shot him a death glare and shoved his shoulder hard. "What in the world is wrong with you?!"

He blinked, utterly bewildered. "What? I don't understand."

"Why don't you trace back on your memories of the last couple days and think hard about what it is that you did wrong."

For a moment, Vyan really did take a trip down the memory lane, while she paced the room back and forth like a caged bird. "Oh... you must have figured it out then."

"FIGURED IT OUT?" she yelled. "I would have been dead out because of you!"

"You weren't, though," Vyan interjected with a reluctant voice, trying to deflect the tension,  slightly unsure as to why any of this was an issue. "And I was confident you wouldn't be. So, I thought having you fight a worthy opponent might help things out for you."

Her glare intensified. "Why did you even need to think that?!"

"I just... thought you were sad—sad because you found the duel demeaning and humiliating. So, I thought it would make you happy?" he offered, voice going small.

Iyana stopped, spinning to face him. "Happy?! Yes, Vyan, it did make me happy. Or more like, it would have if I didn't know you ruined my opponent's life with your desire to make me happy!"

"How is it my fault that he accepted those pills at my first insistence?" Vyan protested. "I mean, I didn't have to ask him twice. He was ready to put everything on the line for that one chance at victory. Besides, I didn't think you would mind it. You have always talked about wanting a deadly duel, you know? The thrill of not knowing the outcome, the rush of—"

"Drugging my opponent was your idea?!"

"Um... yes," he admitted sheepishly.

She threw her hands in the air, her patience unraveling. "Vyan, you are impossible to deal with, I swear. You are just too much."

"I, uh, don't think I am too much. I mean, isn't it normal?

I just wanted you to have a good fight," he approached her carefully, "because I know that a good sword fight makes you happy, regardless of what is at stake, and trust me, I didn't doubt for a second that Pembrooke could do anything to you, even if he gained beast-like strength." He placed his hands on her shoulder, his eyes sincere and begging for her to meet his.

"Come on, you took down a literal demon. Pembrooke was nothing compared to that. I just wanted you to have an exciting duel, that's it. I had no bad intentions."

Iyana took a few calming breaths, trying her best to understand. And she did understand that earlier thoughts weren't on the right track—with him wanting to cut off her wings and all that crap. However, this confession didn't make her feel better, either.

It just made Leila's words ring out louder—doubts she had already vanquished a few days, now they were resurfacing.

"No, Vyan, you don't understand." Iyana looked up and finally met his gaze, sadness lingering in her violet eyes. "You aren't seeing the issue here. I am not upset about your intentions." Although she might have gotten a little carried away on her way here. "Ir your confidence in me. What I am upset about is, the fact you go too far for me. You do things for me that I don't need."

"Yes, of course. I know that. But I just like doing them for you—"

"Vyan," she gently placed a hand on his forearm and said, "you need to control yourself." Before your love for me turns into obsession, and we are both left paying the price for it with your life.