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[Villain] Chapter 19: It’s All About Perspective
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 03:03:55 +0000 UTCImryll awoke to the steady thumping of rain against the window. The room was dimly lit, but she appeared to be inside the comfiest bed of all time. She looked around the room with curiosity, but her migraine was stopping her from focusing on any one thing for too long.
“Ugh, I need some water…” Imryll muttered under her breath and then winced at a wave of pain from trying to move. She resigned to her fate and lay back down, trying to get a grasp of her situation.
The door to her room abruptly opened, and a naked man walked in. He seemed confused for a second while appraising her. Seeing this man, some memories of the previous night flooded back into Imryll’s mind.
“Sir Damien, what happened to me? Where am I?” Imryll said with deep confusion in her voice, trying to ignore the man’s lack of clothes.
“Oh Miss Imryll, my apologies. I didn’t know my servant put you here in my study. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you remember from last night’s events?”
Imryll dug deep into her memories and tried to piece them together.
“I received orders to investigate you from the princess, then I entered your house and due to a misunderstanding tried to kill you…” Imryll’s face went pale. “I’m really sorry for that, Sir Damien.”
Damien just put on a kind smile and waved it off. “It’s fine, Miss Imryll. I am a very reasonable man and don’t hold grudges over such a small thing.” While listening to her, he seemed to be investigating the room, trying to find something.
“Are you looking for something?” Imryll had to ask. Her curiosity as a spy was deeply rooted in her personality.
“Yes, my clothes. Ignore me, continue.”
“Ah, yes. After that misunderstanding, I saw that Sir Damien was reading a book about Spatial magic, and I have been stuck at C-grade for years, so I asked about teaching me.
“OH! I remember you handed me some Luna Runes for the princess and then taught me a new way to envision Spatial magic, erm… You can also read runes?”
“Yes, yes, I can, but do you remember anything else?”
Imryll tried to remember, but it all seemed hazy as if it was all a dream, which she had now forgotten the details of. “It’s all rather hazy. I remember taking a bath and talking about some kind of payment for the Spatial magic lesson, but from then on it’s all too hazy,” she said with frustration while shaking her head.
Damien’s mood seemed to brighten. “You really can’t remember anything after the bath?”
Imryll nodded.
“Well, you see how the hallway is slightly lower down than the rooms, and there is a small step,” Damien said while pointing toward the doorway. Indeed, there was a small step before entering any of the rooms along the corridor.
“You were so distracted, you missed the step and had quite a hard fall onto the ground and knocked your head.”
Imryll reached over to feel the back of her head, and it hurt from the touch, likely bruised.
“Maybe the reason for the memory loss is because you fell unconscious after the terrible fall. I was very worried about you and had my servant take care of you,” Damien said with a sincere expression.
“But…if I was about to fall, I would have activated my Spatial magic, so I wouldn’t be injured!” Imryll refused to believe she was injured so badly from tripping over a step. It was a stain on her reputation. She was an elite spy working for the princess, for goodness’s sake! Since when could an elite of the Silvermoon Clan be defeated by a mere step?
Damien seemed to think for a moment before replying, “Ah! Miss Imryll, your mana reserves were likely very low after practicing the new Spatial magic I taught you, and that’s why it failed to activate.”
Imryll’s face scrunched up in disbelief, but what else could be the reason for her memory loss and throbbing headache? How could she ever face the princess now? Not only did she almost assassinate a Psychic mage who had close ties with the queen, but she also acted so pathetically while representing the princess.
“Don’t worry, Miss Imryll. I will keep the details of this blunder a secret from the princess, and don’t worry about the payment for the Spatial magic. You should rest up and recover before the princess arrives in a few hours. Oh! And maybe help me find my darn clothes.”
Imryll nodded with appreciation. She decided that Sir Damien was a very respectable gentleman, all things considered.
***
An average height man with gray eyes and curly brown hair entered an imposing building with the signboard “The Sanctum.”
The first floor of the building was a lounge area with high-class furniture carefully placed around, close enough to make use of the space but far apart to allow more private conversations. Paintings and sculptures of famous figures from the Henson family lined the walls. Right above the reception desk was an enormous painting of a rather large man sitting in a fancy chair; he had a scar running across his left eye and a permanent scowl on his face.
Below the painting was a well-made desk from a slightly red-tinted wood that was imported from the forests of Oshal. In fact, the entire hotel was filled with items or materials imported from Oshal, which was amusing as this building was in the heart of Kassinki.
The man hit on a small golden bell, and a human woman emerged from behind a wall.
“Greetings, esteemed guest. Welcome to The Sanctum. Do you wish to book a night?” She then gave a sly smile. “With me included?”
The man grinned and leaned over. Gesturing for her to lean in, he whispered into the receptionist’s ear, “The golden river flows through Oshal on a quiet winter morning.”
The receptionist’s previous playful attitude vanished as she straightened her back. She looked left and right to make sure nobody noticed and then directed him to a side door.
“What does a sentinel of Oshal need?” the receptionist said in a respectful tone.
“I need to speak with the Owl,” the man said with slight disdain.
“Certainly,” she replied and led him down a corridor. At the end was a heavily enchanted metal door; it opened slowly after the receptionist placed her hand on it.
Behind the door was a small room, and a man was sitting behind a desk.
“Name and Grade,” he said with no enthusiasm at all.
“I’m a B-grade druid and as you already know, the name’s Derek.”
Derek really hated this man, but he was one of the Owl’s guards. They all had B-grade or above techniques, and Derek had no plans to make enemies with someone as dangerous as the Owl.
The guard checked a book, and after a minute he found Derek’s name and nodded.
“The Owl will see you now.”
He then waved Derek through a door at the back of the room.
Inside was a floating platform that quickly brought him up to the tenth floor of the hotel, the presidential suite.
Stepping inside, Derek saw a man lounging on a large cushion. He was elderly with white hair and a beard. His body was covered with expensive jewelry, and his large eyes did make him look like an owl.
The Owl’s real name was known to nobody except Duke Henson himself. The Owl was one of the few A-grade Psychic mages on the continent and incredibly sought after. He was surrounded by twenty guards, all awaiting at a fair distance around the edges of the room. They were all B-grade like himself, but the two women who lay next to the Owl likely had A-grade defensive abilities to protect him.
Psychic mages were the highest paid of any mage but also the weakest, so a large portion of their wealth was often spent on guards and security measures to protect their lives.
Derek walked to the center of the room and knelt on one knee.
“Sir Owl, I wish to send an urgent report to Lord Henson.”
Owl didn’t even move. Instead, his enormous cushion began floating and moved toward him at a steady pace. The two women lying beside him didn’t seem interested, but their fingers were itching to throw up defensive shields at the slightest sign of defiance from Derek.
“You have a minute,” Owl said as the cushion stopped just before him. The surroundings hummed with power as the elderly man used high-grade telepathy to communicate across the kingdom and projected an image of Duke Henson directly into his mind.
Derek saw the figure of Duke Henson, who seemed confused for a moment at the sudden appearance of Derek in his mind but quickly straightened up. “Oh, Sentinel Derek, do you have news for me?”
Derek bowed deeply and then spoke mentally, “Yes, my lord, I made contact with Fay Karles and her supposed distant relative Damien Karles. They were both under surveillance from multiple big forces, including a Silvermoon elf working for Princess Emilia and some Shadows on Prince August’s side. I could have eliminated them both, but you ordered for them to be returned alive, so we spent our resources chasing out the other forces.”
Duke Henson’s intimidating body looked even scarier when projected directly into Derek’s head, and he held his breath, fearing the wrath of his employer.
After a long pause, Duke Henson said, “So they have been found. This is good news, Derek. Can you capture them for me?”
Derek didn’t dare delay and responded promptly, “No, my lord, they are being watched by too many powers, especially Prince August, who had an A-grade in his ranks.”
The duke nodded in agreement. “Continue observation. I will contact the ancestors and see if I can get an A-rank myself. Unfortunately, not all A-ranks are as simple to hire with just money as the Owl is.”
The elderly man named Owl grinned, showing his lack of teeth before mentally adding, “One hundred platinum per communication, Duke. Don’t forget.”
Derek had never felt this envious in his entire life. He was paid a thousand gold an hour, but this old man just made a million gold in five minutes, all from the comfort of his hotel room?
“Don’t worry, Owl, it will be paid in full,” the Duke said and surprisingly bowed toward the mage. “Sentinel Derek, I should have support for you in a few weeks’ time. We will move in to capture my son’s future wife at that time.”
Derek bowed as the connection ended. “Yes, my lord.”
