Episode 18: The Karma of the Villain

“Eek…!”

Patrick crawls on the ground, desperately trying to shield himself from the barrage of arrows raining down. I take slow, deliberate steps toward him. What’s about to unfold is the grandest spectacle for a villain like Patrick.

But then, an intruder bursts onto the scene.

“Hya! Aaaah! D-die!”

One of Patrick’s frenzied soldiers charges at me, swinging his blade. Taking down a grunt like this would be child’s play. Yet, I don’t move. And then…

A figure darts between me and the soldier, flashing a dagger in a single, swift motion. The next instant, the soldier collapses to the ground with a heavy thud, his throat slit.

“Hmph…”

I glance sidelong at the beastman who cut the soldier down—Fen. Noticing my gaze, Fen awkwardly turns away and mutters.

“…I didn’t save you or anything. He was just in my way, so I dealt with him.”

Fen steps toward Patrick, holding the blood-soaked dagger—still dripping red—up to the moonlight.

“Eek! W-what’s that?!”

Patrick screams, as if trying to deny the reality closing in on him.

“W-why… Why is this happening?! It’s impossible, this can’t be…!”

“Hah… You don’t even get why you’re in this mess?”

Fen stomps hard on Patrick’s hand as he tries to crawl away. Patrick lets out a shrill “Gyaa!” in pain.

Her eyes burning with the rage of the oppressed, Fen glares down at the man groveling before her. Overwhelmed by her piercing stare, Patrick begins to speak in a trembling voice.

“N-n-no… I-I get it! I understand! I oppressed the beastmen and schemed to steal Lord Siegfried’s lands. This is my punishment for my greed, isn’t it?! Yes, I was wrong! I was mistaken! So please, forgive me! I’m truly sorry!”

Patrick begs for his life with desperate fervor. But his words lack any trace of sincerity. It’s painfully clear he’s only saying whatever will get him out of this alive.

“So you finally get it, huh? But it’s too late—”

“No, that’s not it.”

I cut Fen off and step forward to stand beside Patrick.

“The reason you’re in this situation isn’t because you were evil. If you’d been more evil, you could’ve avoided this entirely.”

“Huh…?”

“Patrick, your downfall was being a half-baked villain.”

“V-villain…? Half-baked…?”

“Exactly. You see, Patrick, I’m going to take your lands.”

“W-what…?”

If I were to die here, Patrick would gain control over my territory. But if Patrick dies instead? Then it’s highly likely I’ll claim dominion over his lands.

After all, Patrick’s notorious for his womanizing ways. His wife divorced him years ago, and he has no heir. As his kin, it’s only natural I’d inherit his territory.

Of course, there are obstacles to me, a lower noble, taking over the lands of a higher-ranking noble like Patrick… but I’ve already made arrangements to deal with that.

“You never considered that the person you were trying to trap might be plotting the same thing. You were foolish enough to trust me. If you’d been a truly sinister villain… you would’ve seen through my malice. In short, you were an immature ‘evil,’ Patrick.”

With not a scheming villain’s smirk but the cold, ruthless smile of a true antagonist, I look down at Patrick.

“Now, it’s time for the curtain to fall.”

I glance at Fen, and she swiftly crouches, bringing her dagger close to Patrick’s throat.

“W-wait! Stop! Please, stop! I’m a marquis! My life is worth more than commoners or beastmen!”

“You’re right, Patrick. I called you immature earlier, but… among all the villains I’ve faced, you’ve entertained me the most. Indeed, in my eyes, your life carries weight.”

“Y-yeah, right…?”

Patrick likely doesn’t grasp the meaning of my words. He clings desperately to the phrase “your life carries weight,” pleading with me as if it’s his last hope.

“S-so, you’ll spare my life, then…?”

I slowly shake my head.

“I’ve prepared a stage befitting the weight of your life. To die by the blade of those you once sought to oppress—a stage no villain could ask for more. —Do it, Fen.”

Fen nods silently and plunges her blade into Patrick’s throat.

“Gah…! S-stop! Sto…p…!”

“Don’t wail so pathetically.”

Fen’s voice is icy.

“The count standing over you now… when my dagger pierced his throat, he was smiling.”

“Guh… gah… ah…”

Patrick’s arm reaches into the air, as if grasping for the twinkling stars in the night sky. But his hand will never touch them.

After a few futile scratches at the air, Patrick’s lifeless hand falls limp to the ground.