Ascension Of The Villain

Vyan strode down the grand corridors of the Diamond Palace with a casual pace, two guards flanking his side. He had to leave Clyde waiting outside, thanks to the recent life-threatening incident at the palace. The explosion had sent ripples of panic through the imperial grounds, and as of then, only trustworthy authorized personnel of the emperor were allowed within the palace.

It was kind of ironic. Given how Vyan was the one to set off the explosion and he, of all people, was being allowed to stroll into the palace hallways like a regular Monday.

As Vyan approached the heavy oak doors of Edgar's chamber, the door guards straightened up. They gave Vyan a courteous nod and exchanged a glance with the guards on Vyan's side, as if to confirm whether they had done a full-body check of him or not.

Once they gave the confirmation through a curt nod, the guards stepped aside to let Vyan through.

Vyan allowed himself a small, fleeting smirk as they pushed the doors open for him and he entered the huge, dimly lit room.

The emperor's private chamber was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs and incense—the kind of incense that irritated Vyan's lungs. It was a good thing that he had already mastered covering up his irritations and dislikes in front of the targeted audience.

Instead of the emperor, Vyan's gaze first met Wyatt's. As usual, Vyan gave a nod of acknowledgement, and Wyatt responded back in the same way, so did Storm. The former was standing near the window, while the latter behind the doors.

Vyan suppressed a smile of amusement. But it wasn't their positions that amused him; it was their presence. How much paranoia did Edgar have to be struck with to have both of his Aura knights guarding him inside the room? One usually has their knights guard only outside the door in order to allow oneself privacy, and well, to avoid feeling the need to be stared at all times.

Their presence was a living proof of how much Edgar was being devoured by his own paranoia and anxiety.

Anyway, forget the paranoia. Nothing comes close to the amusement that Vyan felt when he finally saw Edgar. The once-might emperor lay in his massive bed, propped up by a pile of pillows, his skin pallid and his hair disheveled. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his once-sharp eyes were now clouded with exhaustion and hopelessness.

Without Aster's mana, Edgar was nothing but a cornered animal, gasping for breath.

Vyan took a moment to relish the sight. It was almost poetic. For someone who had thrived on control and manipulation, to be stripped of the source of his strength like this was nothing short of karma.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan began, his tone rich with feigned concern, "I came as soon as the palace gates were opened. I… cannot express how deeply upset I was when I found out what happened."

Edgar's eyes cracked open, dull and bloodshot. He managed a weak, bitter smile. "Ah, Grand Duke," he rasped, his voice scratchy. "What a pleasure... to have you visit me in my... dire state."

"Your suffering is our suffering," Vyan replied smoothly, bowing his head. "It is a tragedy to see you in such distress, Your Imperial Majesty."

The loss of the unrivaled, borrowed mana coursing through his veins… Oh, the tragedy! Vyan would have broken into laughter if he could afford to.

"I cannot even begin to imagine who would dare to do such a thing," Vyan let out, his tone full of pretense anger.

Edgar's expression twisted into one of melancholy. "Yes…. Who would dare such an atrocity?" he muttered weakly. "To try to assassinate me... in my own palace… Such a treacherous villain must be at large."

"Indeed, Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "But rest assured, the imperial officers are on high alert. They will surely catch the culprit responsible for this heinous act," he said while inside his head, he thought, the imperial officers can search all they want. They will never find a thing. Not when their vice-commander is on my side.

Edgar sighed heavily. "I hope you are right... I cannot have this shadow hanging over the empire."

"Fear not, Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan replied. "Such audacity cannot go unpunished in the imperial palace." He made sure his tone was appropriately grave. He couldn't let his joy slip out, after all.

Edgar's eyelids fluttered closed, anger rising on his face. "Yes... yes, that bastard must be punished—the one who took everything away from me," he muttered, almost to himself. If… and only if he knew 'that bastard' was standing right before him, playing his role to perfection.

"Don't you worry, that bastard will definitely not escape the clutches of the law."

"He must be caught…" He gritted his teeth. "I will kill him with my bare hands."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty, you will be able to do that." Or not, haha. "Until then, you should get all the rest you can. Princess Althea is doing her best to hold down the fort in your absence," Vyan added with a reassuring smile. "She will surely make a great empress one day, you know? So, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Please rest."

"I hope so…"

Vyan watched as Edgar slumped deeper into his pillows, his breath ragged and uneven. He straightened up, looking down at the emperor—so pitiful, far from the ferocious, hot-blooded man who brought ruins to Vyan's family.

Vyan offered a polite bow before turning to leave. He adjusted his collar and got out of the chamber, smoothing out the fabric with a flick of his wrist.

As he began to make his way down the hallway, he was not flanked by the guards this time. He finally allowed himself a genuine smile, his steps starting to become a little bouncy.

Who said revenge wasn't sweet? Vyan sure felt happy. Just witnessing the start of the downfall of the man who was responsible for the destruction of his happy family was making Vyan want to burst out into happy songs. And he didn't even sing!

Nothing could possibly bring down his mood today—

Oops, too soon… He jinxed himself.

His mood soured faster than Iyana was capable of swinging her sword.

That was because he came face to face with his dear beloved Tia.

His bouncing steps faltered as Celeste stood in the middle of the hallway, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked much the same as always—sickly but elegant. Her long red hair, so much like his mother and brother's, cascaded over her shoulders in a simple braid, the vibrant color igniting the bitter feelings in his chest like a storm.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Vyan hadn't expected to see her here, not now on her way to visit her husband. Especially not when he was riding the high of his small triumph. He didn't know what to say, what to feel.

There had been a time when he would have run to her, all giddy and stupidly happy, to let her in on his happiness. But not anymore.

He couldn't trust her anymore, not even with the smallest things.

She might have genuinely felt happy for him in all those times. Or perhaps, she didn't. Who could tell, really?

However, those fleeting moments of unguaranteed kindness did nothing to erase her betrayal—the one thing he could never forgive her for.

Celeste's lips parted, her eyes softening as she took a hesitant step toward him. "Vee—" she began, using the nickname only his family did.

But Vyan didn't stop. He turned his head away. His expression hardened as he continued down the hallway, his pace quickening. He didn't have the patience for her. Not today.

"Vee!" Celeste called after him.

He could feel the profound desperation and regret in her voice. The sound of it clawed at something deep within him, a buried emotion he refused to acknowledge.

Nevertheless, he didn't break stride, didn't look back.

He could sense her gaze burning into his back, could almost hear the unspoken words she wanted to say, the repeated explanations, the apologies she probably didn't mean. But what good were they? What good was any of it after everything that had happened? After everything she had allowed to happen?

His footsteps echoed in the empty hall as he put more distance between them. Each step was like a deliberate severing of whatever thin thread still connected them. He wanted to let her know, loud and clear, that she had made her choices, and so had he.

As he turned the corner, a gust of cold air blew in from the window. Vyan welcomed the cool breeze, hoping it would cool the heat in his veins.

Unfortunately, before it could work, he heard her voice again, softer, almost like a phantom voice, "Vee…" It tickled his heart, evoking some sweet childhood memories with her—she would often ride the floral swing with him on the lap while Aster pushed it from behind. How simpler were those times. Filled with nothing but unadulterated laughter and happiness.

Seriously, how the heck did Vyan go so fast from finding joy in the palace's melancholy to the palace walls suffocating him with memories he would rather forget?

Gosh, he needed to get away from all of it—from Celeste, from the ghosts of the past, and from this cursed palace.

As he was about to round another corner, a hand yanked his wrist from behind.

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"Please let me go—" He was going to pull his hand back harshly when he looked over his shoulder and noticed the silver locks. "Thea?"

Althea stood behind him, her brows furrowed. "Where are you rushing off to in that direction? The staircase is over there," she pointed out, letting go of his hand and putting it on her hip. "What's wrong with you?" She tilted her head slightly, a curious gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, uh, nothing." Vyan tried to compose himself, relieved to have Althea as a distraction. "I was just in a hurry."

Although the relief was very short-lived as she asked,  "What was that? You ignored your aunt like she was air."

Vyan's expression tightened, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. "I don't want to talk about it," he snapped lowly, his voice carrying a sharper edge than he intended. "It's a family issue."

Althea blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. "Okay, okay, calm down," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "There is no need to bite my head off."

Vyan closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose as he tried to reign in the irritation that had seeped into his words. He shook his head slightly. "No, sorry, my bad," he muttered, his tone softening. "My mood just got soured by seeing Tia— Eh, you know what? She is not even my Tia anymore. I don't care about her.

So, it's nothing actually. Sorry for reacting that way."

Althea patted his upper arm gently. "I get it. You don't have to explain."

"Thanks for understanding," he said, his shoulders slumping.

She opened her mouth to ask if he was physically feeling okay since he seemed exhausted, but Vyan was already moving past her.

"I will see you around," he murmured, his eyes not quite meeting hers as he headed for the staircase he had missed seeing earlier.

As she watched him descend down the stairs, Althea couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "He claims he does not consider her Tia anymore and yet he said it was a family issue." She let out a sigh. "I swear he can be such an idiot sometimes."

A voice crept up from behind her, smooth and cold as ice. "At least your beloved business partner understands what family is. But it seems like you don't, Crown Princess."

Althea stiffened, her spine going rigid at the familiar voice. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as they met her brother's.

Easton stood with his arms crossed, his expression one of arrogant disdain, his gaze boring into her like a knife. His words stung, and he knew it.

"And what do you know about family, Easton?" she spat out.

He arched an eyebrow, questioning, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

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