Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 471

Chapter 471: [Dystopian Elven War] [47] [Hate]

[Unknown Place]

The world seems different since I saw my childhood memories.

…It feels colourful like there is light everywhere.

But as time passed, those lights were slowly dimming down.

The world was turning bleak like it was before.

‘…’

I have always wondered….Why?

Why has it always been me?

Why would I have to face things so difficult that would break a normal person?

Time and time again, I have thought it might be because of my legacy, bloodline…family.

But is it really true?

Is it really the real reason why I have to face so much hardship?

….Why does it feel like the world hates me for reasons I don’t understand.

Like a parasite is trying to find way to take away what’s mine.

“Is there nothing you want to say?”

A grumpy cold voice made me glance up at Nerissa.

She was walking in front of me with her hands clasped behind her back.

Her long blonde-green hair flowing like waves as her almond eyes peeked through her shoulder.

“…I don’t know what I should say.” I replied, rubbing the back of my neck.

She didn’t reply as she looked forward, walking in the narrow path carved between the golden grain field.

We are far away from the main civilization, hundreds of kilometres away from the capital city.

It was Nerissa’s choice of place that she brought me to.

“…I have never been in this part of the kingdom.” I said, trying to keep the conversation. “It feels safe.”

“…My father used to bring me here when I was a child.” She replied after a while. “It used to be his favourite spot.”

“I can see why.” I replied, glancing around once again.

Was it nostalgia that made her calm down and suppress her hatred?

She isn’t giving me the aggressive look like before.

“…My father was an enthusiastic person.” She said as if talking to herself. “He especially had an obsessive belief in goddess Hathor.”

I tilted my head slightly. “…Why her?”

“I don’t know.” She replied, detouring from the path. “He never told me why.”

She kept on walking as I followed behind her.

Nerissa continued after a while. “….He even used to claim she showed up in his dream.” She paused for a second.

“….To tell him about the saviour of elves.”

“…”

I kept on following her without saying anything.

“For a long time, my father thought it was Ragnar.” She said, not hiding her fury. “That’s why he trained him like his own son.”

She let out a bitter chuckle as she kept on walking. “…When Liam was born, he thought it was him.”

I shifted my gaze away from her back. “It wasn’t him.”

“…No.” She replied bitterly.

“My father’s only basis to believe that was what Hathor told him.” She remained quiet. “…That the saviour will be close to his daughter.”

“…”

I don’t understand.

Why would Hathor do such a thing anyways?

The path that was uncleared for a long while began to appear once again.

“When Liam died…I knew who the saviour he always talked about.” She glanced back at me. “…It was you.”

I looked back into her eyes. “….Then why did you look at me with nothing but hatred all these years?”

“I never wanted the elves to have a savior, Himmel.” She scoffed, her hatred clear in her voice.

“…Why?” I questioned again. “Because your son died and they still got to live?”

She didn’t reply but I got my answer without her saying.

It also cleared my doubt about why she killed the elves when she lost Nymeria in the game.

She is mentally ill and I am not going to deny it.

The path finally came to an end away from everything.

At the end of it was a small grave with an old sign close to it.

“…”

I slowly looked at Nerissa who quietly sat close to the grave.

I stood beside her. “…Is it—?”

“Liam’s grave.” She replied, her voice mournful.

“It was supposed to be close to World Tree—.”

“I didn’t bury him there.” She cut me off once again. “….I feared Ragnar would come for his corpse some day and I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“…”

So, you placed a fake one close to World Tree and buried the real body here?

I didn’t speak out loud as I kept on staring at the grave.

“….He liked you a lot.” Nerissa said quietly. “Always smiling whenever you were close to him.”

I drew in a deep breath as I spoke what has been weighing on me for a while.

“….His death wasn’t my fault.” I said, looking at her. “I never wanted to be—.”

“I know.” She cut me off. “….I raised you and I always knew it wasn’t your fault that Liam died.”

Her words struck me like thunder in a rainy day.

I took a long while to speak once again. “…What?”

She finally looked away from the grave to meet my eyes.

There were many complex emotions in them but I didn’t want to focus on that.

My gaze was solely on that forced smile on her face.

“…I hate you for who you are Himmel.” She said slowly. “I hate that I raised you like my own child.”

For a moment, I could only stare at her, unsure if I had even heard correctly.

“You… hate me because you raised me?” My voice was low as I asked.

Nerissa’s lips trembled, but she held that bitter smile as if it were armor.

“You being alive makes me feel like I betrayed my own son. Like I gave my love to the wrong child.”

She brushed her hand over the grave’s marker with care.

“…You’re the child who survived, the one who should never have had to bear this curse….and you’re the shadow that makes me remember what I lost.”

I looked at her for a long time as she kept on staring at the grave.

Slowly, I stepped back away from her.

‘…What a foolish being, I am.’

I thought I could mend the broken relationship between us.

But it was never meant to be fixed in the first place.

I drew in a deep breath to get a hold of myself as I turned back and walked away.

“I could either hate you or Nymeria for what she did.”

As I walked away, I heard her voice one last time.

“I chose to hate the one whom I was never supposed to see again.”

I didn’t reply.

There was nothing for me to say.

—

“I know.” Pasithea mumbled. “We are surrounded.”

Zenith took her staff as the world around them blurred.

Soon a group dressed in pure black appeared all around them.

A man who stood in the forefront pointed at them.

“Capture the target.” He spoke coldly. “Kill the other two.”

Zenith lightly tapped on the ground forming a ‘barrier’ that enclosed them.

Pasithea stared at them as she quickly recognized the condition.

“They are all Overlords.” She spoke to them. “I don’t sense any Eternal and we are trapped in an illusion type skill.”

Siersha looked as the blade of the assailant grazed over the barrier cracking it a little.

Zenith gritted her teeth as the barrier shuddered under the repeated strikes. “I can’t hold this for long.”

Siersha stepped forward, her crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim illusion.

She flexed her fingers, summoning a ripple of blood-red aura that curled like smoke around her arms.

“Then we won’t wait for them to break it.”

Zenith drew in a deep breath as she created a small barrier under her sole. “Get ready!”

As soon as she spoke, the barrier broke and Zenith hurtled herself upwards.

The noise of the explosion echoed as she formed the runes of fire and air.

An assassin took a single step, and the ground seemed to pull Siersha towards him.

She dodged sideways to avoid his scything hand aimed at her eyes.

Getting a hold of her balance she yelled. “I found the one making the illusions!”

Zenith, still suspended in mid-air by her rune platform, twisted her staff and unleashed a spiral of flame.

The fire cut through the dark haze, lighting up the battlefield for the briefest moment.

Pasithea’s eyes narrowed.

Her hand brushed across the ground, and thick roots of mana burst upward, ensnaring two assassins before they could react.

Their bones cracked under the pressure, their screams muffled.

“There—!” Siersha lunged, crimson aura flaring around her.

She moved like lightning, straight toward the cloaked figure at the far edge of the circle.

Every assassin shifted to protect him, their movements synchronized, almost mechanical.

The leader’s calm voice echoed through the illusion. “So you noticed… too late.”

The ground beneath Siersha warped, turning into quicksand-like darkness.

It clawed at her legs, pulling her down.

“Not happening!” Zenith shouted, forming a chain of glowing platforms in the air.

She stomped down, and each platform detonated like an explosion, sending shockwaves through the illusion.

The grip on Siersha loosened, just enough for her to rip free.

“Go!” Zenith yelled, sweat dripping down her cheek.

Siersha didn’t hesitate. She shot forward, carving through two assassins in her way with claws laced in blood energy.

She reached the cloaked figure and slashed at his chest—only for her strike to pass through smoke.

An afterimage.

The real caster stood behind Pasithea.

His dagger gleamed as it thrust for her throat.

Pasithea didn’t even flinch.

A shimmering veil of mana hardened around her neck, catching the blade.

She turned her head slightly, her calm eyes locking onto him. “Found you.”

Her free hand clamped down on his wrist like iron.

In the same motion, roots burst from the earth, impaling his legs and dragging him down.

The illusion around them flickered violently, cracks of light tearing through the false world.

The other assassins faltered for the first time.

Zenith slammed her staff against the ground. “Siersha, now—!”

But her words were cut short when an assassin threw her blade at her.

“Urgh.”

Zenith groaned as the blade grazed past her neck leaving a mark, blood trailing down from it.

Another assassin rushed towards her before she could recover.

But—.

Before he could touch her the illusion shattered completely.

A golden light loomed over them as a pair of golden eyes looked at them.

Nymeria’s lips twisted in a savage smile. “…Ah, finally some poor souls to kill.”

The golden marks on her skin flared as she blurred and appeared in front of an assassin.

In one swift motion she cut off his hand while laughing. “…Finally!”

Zenith trembled as she looked at the brutality that was happening in front of her.