Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death - Chapter 326: Kneel Before Your Enemy
Chapter 326: Kneel Before Your Enemy
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{Inside The Projection}
Malik, for the first time, put words to the feeling that had gnawed at him for years.
It all made sense now.
The way she trained like her life depended on it.
The way she talked to him, not like a student, but like someone trying to measure him.
The way she hated and despised, stared too long at maps she shouldn’t understand, reacted to names that hadn’t risen yet, asked about beasts not yet born.
She wasn’t just curious.
She was always tracking things.
Or people, trying to be the first in line.
“Why now…?”
He walked to his desk, pushed aside scrolls, and a half-split Aether core still leaking faint fire.
Digging under the table, he pulled out a lockbox and opened it.
Inside was a scroll. A completely white one.
Beside it was a quill and an inkwell.
He took them out and placed them on the desk.
After dipping the quill into the ink, he wrote down six words.
Each one of these words glowed bright with Aether.
{Cease all operations. We begin tomorrow.}
Wrapping it up, he walked to the window and pushed it open.
Outside, a black bird was waiting for him. An owl. Black.
Hoot!
Malik nodded at him and handed over the scroll.
Black jumped, clawed it from his hand, and flew away.
Malik watched him go for a moment or two, then turned around.
He sat on his throne.
…So.
There were two of them.
Two regressors in the same… timeline.
One burned down the world to fix it.
And the other?
He didn’t exactly know.
Was she like him?
A recurring time looper?
A Bearer of Ouroboros?
Or just a girl who slipped through time?
He didn’t know, and he didn’t care all that much.
But what he needed to know was this…
Did IT know of her?
Does IT want her too?
Again, he had no idea.
Not yet.
But he’d find out.
Roya. Roya. Roya. Roya.
Her name spoke of “visions” or “dreams.”
It seemed that fate liked to play jokes.
…
The throne room of Al-Ayan was carved from obsidian that dimmed all light. fre.eweb(n)ovel\.c om
White banners hung from arches, their ends against walls that had never seen dust.
Every lantern and torch flickered with controlled flame, no smoke, just soft white fire dancing in perfect rhythm with the wind of the court’s Aether-imbued ventilation.
It was all show.
It always was.
At the far end, elevated atop a grand set of black stone stairs, sat the king.
The owner of this kingdom.
“All hail his grace, Qays Al-Ayan, King of Noor. Sovereign of the Eighteen Peaks. Keeper of the Ayan Line. Shield to the Southern Wind. The Ninth Lotus. Protector of the Western Realm. The Qantara.”
He looked much like his daughter Noor, a beautiful man with dark hair and dark eyes.
The only difference was his apparent obsession with jewelry, as even his hair was laced with gold threads, and his loose robe shimmered with crystals.
Ten women stood behind him, his wives, each veiled in red silk, wearing rings from every province in the Kingdom.
Before that show of wealth and beauty was a figure.
A hulking figure with a presence that spoke of death.
It was Malik.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs, not at all looking impressed.
And standing beside him, barely seen, was his assigned escort, an advisor, a noble of minor blood, who leaned in, smiling widely as if this was all going to be a pleasant formality.
“Allow me the honor.”
After a moment passed, he cleared his throat and then raised his voice for the room:
“This is Malik, once of house Al-Zayni. Senior Professor and Honorary Scholar of Nourzadah. The Wielder of Spine Breaker. Instructor of the Three Who Rose, and—”
He stopped, glanced around the room for effect, and added with a grin:
“—the One Who Trained Our Golden Generation.”
The… crowd gave a small, controlled applause.
But it didn’t last long.
The king raised a single hand, and silence followed.
He gestured to Malik’s escort, and in turn, the escort faced Malik and extended an open palm toward the throne.
“Senior Professor Malik.”
His tone softened, like someone guiding a child.
“Would you kneel before His Radiance, King of Noor?”
Malik looked at him, then looked at the king.
…He didn’t move.
Not even a shift in posture.
He gave only a small turn of his golden eyes.
And that alone said more than any speech could.
The king raised his eyebrows faintly and waved his hand.
“Fine.”
That was all.
There was no anger in his tone or even a command to arrest.
It had stopped at that word, surprising everyone in the hall, including Malik.
And then, with a much more pleasant tone, the king added:
“You’ve done well. I’ve watched your students fight. I see how they stand now, how they act. You’ve trained them into real Magi… I’m sure they’re happy now that you’ll allow them to ascend… graduate.”
He took a small sip from his jeweled goblet.
“I hear Zafar has become somewhat adequate, though his… demeanour leaves a lot to be desired. Roya no longer acts out and is well on her way to forming a commendable information distribution and acquisition ring… I’m sure she thinks no one is on to her, but she has a lot to learn. And… a girl of my blood has surpassed my expectations. I dare say she’s become more talented than her eldest brother.”
His final few words sounded almost confused.
“Somehow… you did that. You fixed my failure.”
Malik didn’t nod at that.
He didn’t really do that, well, at least not all of it.
Her increased “talent” was a direct result of whatever Blessing she had.
Besides, he didn’t teach them… for them.
Nothing he did was.
But he didn’t argue that; there was no need to.
If something didn’t advance his goals or help avoid complications, he wouldn’t do it.
That was how he worked.
“Tomorrow’s the send-off of their pilgrimage, and of course, the celebration.”
The king set his goblet down and leaned forward slightly.
“My people will be a little surprised by the celebrations being nearly back to back, so don’t go too wild, sixteen years is nothing to them.”
His voice became more casual.
“Anyways, I trust you’re ready to give your little speech?”
Malik finally moved.
A single nod.
That was it.
The king chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by a stubborn goat.
“God… I already knew you were like this. But you’re even worse than I expected.”
He leaned back with a sigh.
“No politics or charm. Not even basic flattery! Fifteen years and you’re only a senior professor, don’t you want to move up the hierarchy a little bit? A few good words here will do you wonders.”
“…”
“You really are just here to teach and leave, aren’t you?”
Another nod.
The king waved a lazy hand again.
“Fine, fine. You’re a good professor. So I don’t mind. But keep it up, or I will start minding. Information about you might be protected, but I doubt that’d remain so if I push.”
“…”
Again, no response.
Instead, Malik’s eyes flicked briefly to the ten wives behind the king.
He didn’t linger, just scanned them once and turned around.
Then, just like that, he walked out.
Giving no bow or farewell.
The advisor panicked for half a second, reaching toward him.
“Professor—wait, he didn’t—! You can’t just—!”
But Malik was already halfway to the double doors by the time he got close.
By the time the advisor’s hand fully streached, reaching for Malik’s dark—
There was nothing left to reach.
He was already gone.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
