Ascension Of The Villain

Vyan's mind swam in and out of focus. The edges of his vision were blurry as darkness seeped in like a slow, encroaching tide. He could barely feel the rough ground beneath him, the coolness of the earth doing little to soothe the fiery pain throbbing through his skull.

His hands were bound behind his back, the metallic bite of handcuffs digging into his wrists with every sluggish attempt to move.

"Where… am I?" The world around him was an indistinct blur of darkness and muffled sounds. He couldn't tell where he was or how he had ended up here.

He tried to summon his magic, to ignite even the faintest spark of mana, but his efforts were in vain. The energy was unreachable as if being restricted by whatever tied his wrists.

Magic… I can't use magic.

Panic flickered at the edge of his consciousness, but he was too disoriented to grasp it fully.

A sharp, cold voice knife sliced through the haze and whispered in his ear, "Stop looking for what you are looking for, if you know what's good for you. Next time, I won't be so forgiving and let you live."

"Wha—" The words barely registered before a heavy blow struck the side of his head.

Pain exploded in his skull, and the fragile grip he had on his consciousness shattered. The darkness that had been creeping in finally engulfed him completely, dragging him down into oblivion.

When he finally opened his eyes again, the world around him was an assault of colors and sounds.

He was lying on a hard surface, the coarse texture of cobblestones pressing against his cheek. The noise of bustling voices, clattering carts, and the general hum of a busy marketplace filled his ears.

Confused and disoriented, Vyan blinked up at the night sky, the stars above seeming to spin in dizzying patterns.

A crowd had gathered around him, their faces blurred and indistinct as they loomed over him like specters. He could hear them speaking, their voices a disjointed jumble.

"Lad, are you okay?" a voice called out, gruff and tinged with concern.

"Clearly he is not!" another voice snapped, sharp and panicked. "There is blood pooling behind his head!"

"Do you think he is going to die?" someone whispered, their tone hushed with morbid curiosity.

"The injury to the head might be dangerous," another chimed in, this voice calmer, more clinical.

"His clothes look fancy, don't they?" a different voice remarked, sounding almost impressed.

"A noble, perhaps?" came another speculative voice, the words tinged with curiosity and greed.

"Do you think I might find some cold coins in his pocket? Or, at least sell his clothes on the market if he dies?" a man mused aloud.

"Oh, come on, Tim! How can you be so selfish?" a woman scolded, her voice rising above the others. "The boy must have a family to get back to. Let's try and save him."

Vyan could barely make sense of their words as his vision swam in and out. Their voices overlapped and blended into a confusing cacophony. The world tilted precariously as he struggled to gather his thoughts, to make them understand.

Yet, he tried to push himself up and talk, "Ashstone… call… them—" But his body betrayed him as he slumped back down onto the ground.

The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him once more was the blur of people moving. Their voices faded into the background, his consciousness slipped away again.

———

"Another day with no results," Easton sighed, his voice heavy with disappointment. The weariness in his tone mirrored the frustration etched into his features. "I am sorry to keep you so late, Iyana. It's just that the deadline is looming, and we are running out of time."

Easton's team had just returned to the capital after a long, fruitless day of searching. The weariness from riding through the vast, sprawling lands of Ashstone was evident in the droop of their shoulders and the sluggishness in their movements.

Iyana offered him a warm, reassuring smile, trying to lift his spirits. "Hey, it's alright," she said, her voice gentle but firm. She felt comforting around Easton now that they weren't tied in a marriage alliance. "Ashstone is enormous. It's only natural we needed more time to comb through it all. And we still have two days left.

We just need to sweep through Kresus, Natrin, and Ryen. I am sure we will find Princess Maria in one of those places."

Easton returned her smile, though it was tinged with uncertainty. "I wish I shared your optimism. I can't shake this feeling that we are going to return only to find out Althea has already found her."

"We will just have to hope for the best."

Easton nodded, the situation still pressing down on him.

Iyana glanced up at the night sky, her mind drifting. The stars twinkled, and she recalled how terrible Vyan looked this morning. Something inside in him had broken, and she had no idea what. But she wanted to be there for him.

It's so late now, she thought. Would it be too inappropriate to visit Vyan at this hour? Oh, well, who cares? I can't wait till the first break of dawn like yesterday. It's a torture.

"The night market looks as lively as ever, huh, Vice-Commander," Terrence commented, riding beside her.

Iyana looked around at the bustling market, the vibrant colors and chatter creating a stark contrast to the heaviness in her heart. She smiled faintly. "It does."

Ahead of them, Elijah squinted at a crowd gathering in the distance. "Why is there a crowd up ahead?" he wondered aloud. "Oh, it's starting to disperse."

As they drew closer, some of the townspeople waved them down, calling out for help. They were imperial knights, after all, and their presence was both respected and relied upon. "Terrence, can you check what's going on?" Iyana asked, keeping her voice calm and composed. "There might be a problem."

Terrence nodded, quickly dismounting his horse and heading toward the group.

Meanwhile, Iyana and the others continued forward. As they passed, Iyana's gaze caught on a small pool of blood glistening on the cobblestones. An accident? she wondered briefly, but dismissed it as something the knights could handle.

But then, Terrence suddenly rushed back to her, his face pale and his breathing labored. "Vice-Commander, stop!" he called out urgently, his voice breaking with alarm. "You need to hear this!"

"What is it?" Iyana asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

Terrence swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. "A little while ago, a bullock cart dropped someone in the middle of the market. His head was badly injured, and he was unconscious—"

"Okay, and who is this someone?" Iyana pressed, a sense of dread creeping into her chest.

"It's His Grace, Vice-Commander! The Grand Duke Ashstone," Terrence revealed, the words hitting her like a physical blow.

Iyana's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat as the world seemed to tilt beneath her. Vyan… her mind raced, struggling to process the information. How could this have happened? The blood she had seen flashed in her mind, and suddenly, it all became painfully real. Oh, Goddess, I shouldn't have stayed back with him this morning.

Iyana wasted no time, her heart pounding in her chest as she quickly followed Terrence to where Vyan had been taken.

Easton, who had overheard Terrence's urgent words, sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Seriously, how many enemies does one person need to have to get abducted twice in the same week?" Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but trail after them, though not without first ordering the other knights to move on and get some rest.

Two fishermen led them through the winding streets to a modest house tucked away behind the bustling market. The scent of saltwater and freshly caught fish clung to the air, but all Iyana could focus on was the growing dread in her chest.

As they entered the small, dimly lit room, Iyana's eyes immediately found Vyan. He lay on a simple cot, his face pale, his head bandaged, and his usually sharp features slack with unconsciousness. Relief mixed with anxiety washed over her as she rushed to his side.

However, Easton's gaze was fixated on something that didn't sit right—something completely out of place. "Why…" he started, his voice trailing off in confusion and disbelief.

His eyes narrowed on the heavy, metal cuffs clasped around Vyan's wrists. Why would anyone use mana-restraining handcuffs on His Grace—someone who is already certified to possess no mana?

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