After leaving the dungeon, Cerys found that the ride on the horse felt far more tense than anything she had experienced inside that dark place.
The wind brushed past her cheeks as the horse galloped forward, yet instead of feeling free, her chest tightened more and more.
For some unknown reason, young master Clay had grown quiet, far quieter than before, and that silence weighed heavily on her mind like a stone pressing against her ribs.
His back was straight, his grip on the reins steady, but there was something in the way his shoulders held that made her uneasy.
It was not fear, nor exhaustion. It was something she can't describe, something that made her instincts whisper something was really really wrong.
Cerys swallowed and leaned slightly closer, her arms wrapped around his waist as she tried to steady her breathing.
Could it be that he noticed something?
She muttered inwardly, her thoughts racing faster than the horse beneath them. She tried to listen, tried to catch even a fragment of his thoughts, but there was nothing.
It was as if a wall had suddenly formed between them, blocking her from the one advantage she had relied on until now.
Then she forced herself to calm down and retrace everything that had happened in the dungeon.
The inheritance. The skeleton. The Minotaur. The Holy Knights. The way she acted. The way she fought.
Her fingers tightened slightly against his clothes as a cold unknown crept into her heart.
And then she suddenly finally heard some of his thoughts.
This maid, could it be that she is the Final Villainess Cerys herself?
Her eyes widened slightly, though she kept her face pressed behind him so he would not notice. Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she felt as if she had been thrown back into the dungeon, facing that monstrous Minotaur again.
That single thought struck deep into her.
How did he come to that conclusion?
Her breath became shallow when she heard the next thoughts of him.
How could she master that technique so fast? Killing a Holy Knight and the Holy King couldn't revive him. Had she already mastered that stage?
There's only one explanation. If her talent became immense after she received that inheritance, it means she is an aloof villainess… Cerys herself.
That was when her entire body went cold.
He already found out?
Clay continued.
There's no mistaking it. In the story, her talent was too low… but when she met the inheritance, her talent barrier broke, and her talent immediately became immense. It's said in that dream that suggests I'm a minor villain, the others who get the inheritance wouldn't awaken their talent the way villainess does!
The thought echoed again and again inside her mind, each repetition making her chest tighten further. Panic began to rise, threatening to break her calm.
What should I do? What should I do?
Then suddenly, a single word surfaced in her mind.
Aloof.
That was how he described her. Cold. Distant. Untouchable.
If that was the image he had, then she only needed to break it.
Her thoughts raced, then steadied. If he believed the Villainess was distant and emotionless, then she would become the complete opposite. She would be soft. Clingy. Emotional. Someone who could never match that image.
Without hesitation, she moved.
Her arms tightened around his waist, and she leaned closer, pressing herself against his back. Clay stiffened slightly in surprise.
"Young master," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation, "why are you silent? Could it be because I killed a Holy Knight and caused trouble for you?"
She lowered her head slightly, her tone turning more fragile.
"Young master, please punish me."
Clay blinked, completely caught off guard.
Huh?
His mind paused for a moment, and the thoughts that followed were filled with confusion.
No, this cannot be. The Final villainess was not like this. I cannot imagine her acting like this.
He frowned slightly, still holding the reins as the horse continued forward.
Could it be that she is just a normal talented maid?
Then another thought appeared.
Or can she read my mind?
That thought made him tense for a brief moment, but almost immediately, he dismissed it.
No, if that was the case, the system would have detected it already.
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing a little.
Cerys, on the other hand, was still tense. She could not hear anything related to the system, and that made her uncertain whether her act was working or not. Every second felt longer than it should, every movement of the horse echoing in her ears like a drum.
Then finally, after what felt like an eternity, she heard him again.
Why am I suspicious of my maid? The reason I wanted to isolate myself was this cautious nature of mine. Because of this, I overthink too much. And now I am even suspecting my beautiful maid.
Cerys froze for a moment.
Relief began to fill her, followed by a wave of guilt that made her chest ache.
Because he was right.
She was the Villainess.
She was exactly the person he was trying to avoid.
Her lips pressed together slightly, and before she could stop herself, she pouted.
"Young master…" she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.
Then tears began to form in her eyes.
"Do you hate me?"
Her voice broke as she continued, her emotions pouring out more and more, far beyond what she initially planned.
"I know I was reckless… I know I caused trouble… I killed a Holy Knight and made things worse for you… I did not think… I only wanted to protect you… but now everything is a mess…"
Her words came out in a rush, her voice shaking as tears slid down her cheeks.
"I have always been like this… I always make things worse… even when I try to do something right, it ends up causing more problems… I am useless… I am a burden…"
Her fingers clenched against his clothes as she cried.
"No one has ever relied on me… no one has ever trusted me… and now that I finally found someone… I messed it up too…"
Her shoulders trembled as her voice softened into a fragile whisper.
"If young master wants to abandon me… I will understand…"
The horse suddenly came to a stop.
Clay pulled the reins, his expression complicated as he turned slightly.
Without saying a word, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.
Before she could react, he lifted her and placed her in front of him.
Cerys's eyes widened in surprise.
Then suddenly, she felt something warm press against her lips.
Her mind went blank.
Clay leaned forward slightly, his lips covering hers in a quick, firm motion.
For a moment, everything went silent.
The wind, the road, the world around them all faded into nothing.
Then he pulled back, his expression calm, almost arrogant.
"Now you can shut your mouth," he said casually.
Cerys's face turned completely red.
Her entire body froze for a second before she snapped out of it, her fists lightly hitting his chest as she turned her face away.
"Young master!" she cried, her voice flustered. "You are teasing me! You are a bully! A bully!"
Yet despite her words, there was no anger in her tone.
Only embarrassment.
Inside, her heart was beating wildly.
She did not expect things to turn out like this.
But she had no choice.
If she acted like her true self, he would suspect her again.
Even if it was the truth, she had to hide it. Because the secrets he told earlier, although not proven yet, she was feeling like it could be true. The people around her would make her someone like the very same villainess he calls in his head.
Yes- yes…
The young master was wary of the villainess.
On the other hand, Clay smirked slightly and urged the horse forward again, making it run faster as the wind rushed past them once more.
…
Not far away, another scene unfolded on the open road.
A young man with short black hair stood beside a white horse, his posture relaxed as if he had no worries in the world. In front of him was a woman riding that horse, her figure straight, her expression cold, her eyes looking forward as if nothing around her mattered.
"Come on now," the young man said with a grin, walking alongside her. "Why are you ignoring me? I am just trying to help."
The woman said nothing.
Her silence did not deter him.
"In fact, you should be happy," he continued, his tone playful. "I heard your fiancé ran away. That is good news, right? Now you are free. No more chains. No more expectations."
Still, no response.
The young man placed a hand on his chest dramatically.
"If you ask me nicely, I might even help you," he added, lowering his voice slightly. "All I ask is a small reward. Maybe a kiss on the cheek?"
The woman's expression remained unchanged, as if his words had no effect on her at all.
The young man sighed exaggeratedly, shaking his head.
"You are really cold, you know that?" he muttered.
Then suddenly, the ground trembled.
A loud snort echoed through the air.
From the trees nearby, a massive wild boar burst out, its eyes red, its tusks sharp as it charged straight toward the woman.
The air grew tense in an instant.
The woman's gaze sharpened.
Without hesitation, she raised her hand.
A cold mist spread from her body, the temperature around them dropping rapidly.
Frost formed in the air, gathering and condensing as she pointed forward.
In the next moment, ice surged outward, freezing the ground beneath the boar and locking its legs in place.
The beast roared, struggling against the ice that held it down.
The young man did not move.
He simply watched, his expression calm, as if he already knew what would happen.
Inside his mind, an old voice of an old man echoed.
"Are you not going to help her?"
The young man sighed inwardly.
"Do not rush," he replied calmly.
"This is your chance," the voice continued. "If you save her, you might gain her favor. She has an Absolute Ice Body. She would be a perfect partner for your cultivation."
The young man smiled faintly.
"I know."
The ice around the boar began to crack.
With a loud roar, the beast broke free, its strength overwhelming the frozen restraints.
The woman's expression changed slightly.
She bit her lip, preparing for the incoming attack.
The boar charged again, faster than before.
The distance closed in an instant.
And just as it was about to reach her…
A shadow flashed past.
There was no sound of impact.
No roar.
No struggle.
The boar froze mid-step.
Then slowly, its body tilted.
And with a heavy thud, it collapsed to the ground, lifeless.