Living As the Villainess Queen

Flora, who had been pondering the old man’s words, let out a wry chuckle. My own ugliness? I’ve seen that countless times.

Despite being one of the rare Anikas—only a few dozen in the world—Flora had never felt a sense of superiority. There were fleeting moments of pride when people gazed at her in awe or when knights treated her with the utmost respect, but these feelings never lasted. Whenever she visited the palace annex, she saw it filled with Anikas of various ages and lifestyles. Though they lived more comfortably than others due to their wealth and fame, they aged, fell ill, and their lives were not so different from ordinary people. Flora, too, was just one of the many Anikas.

Moreover, Jin, to whom she had been compared since birth, was an insurmountable barrier. Despite possessing the most powerful Ramita among the Anikas, Flora could not freely showcase her abilities. She feared displeasing Jin and often felt self-deprecating when Sang-je showed favoritism towards Jin, wondering, “Is Ramita really that special?”

Flora was tormented by her own inferiority complex, her inability to escape Jin’s shadow, and her inner prayers for Jin’s misfortune—something she loathed about herself. For her, there was nothing uglier to see.

“What you said is ambiguous. What does it mean to see one’s worst? How does it affect a sorcerer? Will it drive them mad or lead to death?”

“According to ancient texts on this sorcery, it does not affect the sorcerer’s mind or body. However,” the old man paused briefly, gauging her reaction, before continuing, “it is recorded that all sorcerers met miserable ends.”

Aldrit subtly glanced at Flora, trying to gauge her expression.

“…Was there a reason recorded?” she asked.

“The sorcerer’s desires often bordered on malice. Evil begets evil. They were likely killed by those who held grudges against them.”

The old man smiled gently. “It is not an easy decision. Take your time to think it over, young Anika. And if you have any questions, come by anytime. We old folks here are always eager for someone to talk to. You are always welcome.”

Flora silently nodded, looking at the old man. Despite being called “young Anika,” she didn’t sense any special treatment in his tone. It felt as if he was simply sharing his life stories with a grandchild. Perhaps because of this, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with these strangers.

The old man called out to Aldrit, who was about to leave with Flora. “There’s something I need to tell you. Come back later.”

“Yes, sir,” Aldrit replied.

After escorting Flora home, Aldrit returned to the cave. The old man who had spoken with Flora addressed him. “Is it absolutely necessary to use this sorcery? Is there no other way?”

Aldrit hesitated, sensing there might be a deeper issue the old man hadn’t disclosed to Flora. With a stern expression, he answered, “At present, it is the only way to break the barrier surrounding the Holy City.”

A mocking voice interrupted. “What’s the point of asking him? The answer is obvious. He’s a fervent believer in the Anika of the kingdom.”

Aldrit glared at Mara. “Mara brought that Anika here to use that sorcery. If there’s a problem with it, why did you elders allow it?”

Someone spoke up abruptly. “So, are you questioning us now?”

“No,” Aldrit replied carefully. “I believed that you, who have lived with noble intentions, would not say anything contradictory.”

“This boy, he’s got the eloquence of someone beyond his years.”

“He’s pretending to flatter us while actually twisting his words. He’s got a snake in his belly.”

The elders chuckled and exchanged remarks. Aldrit lowered his gaze.

“Mara can’t use that sorcery without our help.”

“He knows nothing, only that such a sorcery exists.”

“Then… are you saying that if Mara had brought the Anika here to use that sorcery, you wouldn’t have helped?”

“That’s right. He was full of grand dreams about utilizing that sorcery, but dreaming is free.”

“Deceitful old men! You have no integrity!” Mara shouted angrily. However, Aldrit sensed that Mara wasn’t truly angry. It seemed like he had expected this to some extent. Every time he saw Mara and the elders together, their relationship perplexed him. Today, it was even more confusing.

A stout elder addressed Aldrit, “It depends on the situation. If there’s truly no other option, we’d be willing to assist with the sorcery.”

“When you say no other option…” Aldrit inquired, seeking clarity.

“When it is the only way to protect you. What else could there be?” 

Aldrit felt a surge of emotion, his nose tingling with the weight of the elder’s words. He was reminded once again of the profound sacrifice the elders were prepared to make solely for the sake of their descendants.

“But child,” the elder continued, his voice softening with concern, “this sorcery is truly dangerous. It’s not us who are at risk, but those outside. It seems neither that Anika nor you fully understand how terrifying human darkness can be. Even she probably doesn’t know what darkness lurks in her heart or how it might change. So please, thoroughly explain this to both the Anikas in the kingdom and that Anika. If they still insist on using the sorcery and you agree, we will follow your decision.”

Aldrit nodded solemnly. “…Yes, sir.”