Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son

Chapter 309 Heart Of Yggrisial [5] [Demand]

Chapter 309  Heart Of Yggrisial [5] [Demand]

"Argh. Hah."

Stretching my body, I let out a tired sigh as I felt my body relax, sinking deeper into the sofa.

Sitting straight back, I looked around the messed-up room.

Elijah and Aimar were sleeping peacefully, hugging each other.

Carson was sprawled upside down at the edge of the bed, while Amaury was coiled up on the side.

'Right, he fell asleep while crying.'

I sighed, standing up from my seat.

Poor dude has it rough.

I should stop bullying him.

'...'

On second thought, maybe not.

Quietly, I walked towards Aimar and Elijah, deep in their sleep.

Touching both their shirts, I whispered softly.

"Muspelh."

A small fire turned their shirts into ashes, leaving them half-naked.

Perfect.

I grinned, taking out my phone and snapping pictures from different angles.

Maybe it was cold—they stuck even closer, giving me even better poses.

After taking enough, I let out a satisfied smile before covering them with a blanket.

Playing with my phone, I made my way out of the room while I thought of different ways to use it.

Should I show it to Heather?

Or maybe save it for when she proposes to Elijah?

[<You are evil.>]

'I am a saint.'

I scoffed, opening the door.

Walking down the dimly lit corridor, I slid my phone into my pocket.

"Hm?"

The soft creak of a door opening made me pause mid-step.

A girl stepped out, her arms hooked under the shoulders of two others who leaned heavily against her.

"..."

I tilted my head, looking at Siersha.

She tilted her head back.

I turned around.

"Hey! Don't even think about walking away," she called out, her voice sharp but hushed. "Help me."

I sighed, walking towards her.

"What were you guys doing?" I asked, glancing at Zenith grumbling something.

"They both drank too much," Siersha said as she carefully passed Zenith to me.

I scooped Zenith into my arms like a princess while Siersha adjusted Pasithea, who was completely out cold.

'Oh, she is lighter and softer than I imagined.'

I thought while Zenith clung to my shirt loosely, her face flushed red.

"Let's go," Siersha whispered softly, taking the lead down the hallway.

"Where are the others?" I asked, adjusting Zenith's weight in my arms as we walked.

"Heather's asleep in her room with Elise," she said, glancing back at me briefly before continuing forward.

"I see." I nodded, trailing after her as she stopped in front of a door.

She swiped a key card and pushed it open, walking inside.

Once inside, she gently laid Pasithea on the bed, carefully adjusting her posture and tucking the blanket around her.

"Don't you vampires hate elves?" I asked as soon as she walked out of the room.

"I am not like them," she replied, closing the door. "I don't care about race."

"Oh. Guess we will never get along," I mumbled, trying to ignore the faint sound of Zenith's grumbling in my arms.

Siersha glared at me with her crimson eyes before increasing her steps.

As we walked, my gaze wandered, catching on the way Siersha's night dress hugged her frame.

'She has a good figure,' I thought absently.

I have seen my fair share of women, and I could confidently say she has a better figure than most of them.

For someone so cold and sharp, she certainly has alluring—

"Can you stop ogling me like that?" she snapped, her crimson eyes glaring over her shoulder at me. "You're not even trying to hide it."

I averted my gaze. "My bad."

She sighed, pulling out the card again. She opened it and stepped inside.

I followed her into the room and walked over to the bed.

Gently, I lowered Zenith onto the mattress while Siersha stepped in to help adjust her position.

I took a step back as I rolled up my sleeve.

Siersha quickly took notice of it and asked, "What?"

"Do your job," I replied, placing my hand toward her face.

"Didn't I do—"

"It wasn't enough," I interrupted. "We are alone—"

"We are not," she replied, pointing at Zenith.

"Then come to my room," I said, lowering my hand.

"Are you stupid, or do you pretend to act like one?" she replied, folding her hands, her voice cold as ice.

My gaze subconsciously noticed the small mole peeking from her cleavage, but I quickly got a hold of myself.

"Are you doing it or not?" I asked calmly.

"No," she replied coolly, walking past me.

I grabbed her arm and pushed her gently but firmly against the wall, blocking her path with my other hand.

She smelled nice.

Her calm demeanor didn't waver as she stared up at me.

"What?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm. "Are you going to force me now?"

Ignoring the taunt, I placed my hand on her cheek. "Do it."

She stared into my eyes for a while before sighing.

Her canines elongated as she finally bit into my forearm.

I hissed in pain as she forcefully dug deeper.

My free hand, almost instinctively, coiled gently around her slender waist.

Her eyes widened, and I froze for a completely different reason.

"Are you... wearing something around your waist?" I asked, retracting my hand quickly.

She didn't reply, instead silently transferring her life energy into me.

For a few blissful moments, the familiar utopia swept over me, only to dissipate as she abruptly pushed me away.

"Happy?" she asked, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

"What are you wearing?" I asked, glancing at her waist.

She sighed, her tone flat. "It's a belly chain."

My expression brightened up immediately. "Can I see it?"

She glared at me before storming out of the room.

'Maybe I shouldn't have asked that.'

I rubbed my cheek as I glanced back at Zenith.

"Hm?"

I tilted my head in confusion.

Was it just me, or had her eyes been open a moment ago?

...

...

...

"Are you feeling alright?"

My blank gaze shifted toward Diana, her voice as calm and composed as ever.

"It's tight," I muttered, tugging at my collar with irritation.

"That's how the dress is," she replied matter-of-factly, slapping my hand away.

She took a step back, giving me space as I glanced at the full-length mirror in front of me.

I was dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt, layered with an ornate green-and-gold coat that practically screamed royalty.

On my head sat the crown Mariam had given me, its weight far more noticeable.

Completing the ensemble was a long skirt-like garment—a traditional piece that felt entirely out of place on me.

"I look ridiculous," I groaned, resisting the urge to tear it all off.

"You look good, young lord," Diana corrected with a slight nod, her tone carrying a note of approval. "Now, let's go. We're already late."

Letting out a tired sigh, I turned away from the mirror and followed her lead.

The door creaked open, and the grandeur of the royal castle of the elves unfolded before me.

The towering arches, intricate carvings were breathtaking, but all I could think about was how uncomfortable I felt in this outfit.

Diana swiftly led me outside the castle to the adjacent building where the meeting was set to take place.

"Go straight from here," she instructed, stopping in front of the entrance. "Lady Mariam should already be inside."

I gave her a small nod before stepping into the building.

"Hmm?"

The first thing I noticed was the heavy suppression of mana in the air.

It was an oppressive sensation, the kind that would cut my strength down to a fraction.

This is interesting.

If I fight here, I couldn't even use one-third of my power.

My pace slowed as I caught sight of two familiar figures walking in front of me.

They stopped mid-stride, turning to face me.

"Hier Himmel," Nymeria said with her usual fake smile. "How have you been?"

"I couldn't be any better," I replied, keeping my voice neutral as I continued walking.

My eyes shifted briefly to Kelvhan, whose meadow-green eyes bore into me with undisguised hostility.

"That crown doesn't suit you," Kelvhan remarked, his gaze resting on the crown atop my head. "It doesn't even belong to you."

"The meeting is about to start," I said, looking at Nymeria, ignoring Kelvhan's presence. "You don't want to disappoint your mother now, do you?"

Nymeria slowly walked closer to me.

Her golden eyes filled with spirals stared down into me.

".....You give off a familiar feeling," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "A feeling that makes me want to kill you."

"Everyone gives you that feeling—."

"No, you give a different feeling," she interrupted, looking at me. "Like I will gain a lot from killing you."

"...."

[<Anastasia's Avatar.>]

'Hm?'

[<Stay away from her. The closer you are, the sooner she'll figure it out.>]

I said nothing more, brushing past her. She didn't stop me or utter another word.

I hate that bitch.

Her resemblance to Ragnar really pisses me off.

I sighed, collecting myself.

Finally, I reached the towering double doors.

The guards flanking either side of the entrance stepped forward, pushing them open for me.

As I walked in, I was immediately greeted by an overwhelming, suffocating pressure.

Ten or so elves sat in thrones arranged in a semicircle, their sharp gaze boring into me.

'Ah, the elders. They look old as fuck.' I mused, keeping my expression neutral as I moved further inside.

At the far end of the room, Mariam sat at the left end from the king.

Her seat was on equal height with his, a clear display of her status among them.

I walked towards her, taking my seat beside her.

My gaze swept the hall, finally landing on Nerissa seated at the far right end of the semicircle.

Her expression was one of boredom, as if she were merely tolerating the entire affair.

Beside her stood Lorvil and Fredrick, the ever-dutiful old butler.

Both kept their postures rigid, expressions neutral.

Nymeria and Kelvhan entered shortly after, with Nymeria taking the seat next to Nerissa while Kelvhan stood by his father's side.

"You look great," Mariam whispered softly, leaning slightly toward me with a small, approving smile.

"I do not," I replied curtly, averting my gaze from hers.

"Try to maintain your calm during the meeting," she said, gazing at the people around us. "Don't give in to their provocation."

"I will keep that in mind," I muttered while glancing at the queen.

She was sitting with her son and husband, Pasithea was missing.

'With her condition yesterday, it makes sense.' I rubbed my chin as I noticed something.

How will the event unfold now?

Will the Dark Trinity still try to kidnap her, or will they give up on it?

But with Mariam here, it doesn't seem possible.

'I should keep my eyes on them.' I thought as the gate of the hall opened up once again.

The heavy doors of the hall opened again, drawing everyone's attention.

A silence swept through the chamber as all rose to their feet, their expressions ranging from shock to disgust.

Perhaps no one was expecting them, so it took time for them to register.

"What is that thing doing here!?" one of the elders snapped.

The man was tall and powerfully built, with striking blue skin that glowed faintly under the hall's light.

Two onyx-black horns curved upward from his forehead.

"Looks like everyone's here!" the man declared, a hearty laugh escaping him despite the heavy atmosphere.

"Ah, where are my manners? My name is Reis Sar Demiurge, younger brother to the king of the Demiurge—"

His words were abruptly cut off as a suffocating wave of mana surged.

He nearly dropped to his knees under the sheer pressure.

"Give me one reason to not kill you right here and now," Nerissa's cold voice echoed within the place.

"Would I suffice?"

A calm, authoritative voice interrupted her, drawing every gaze to the hall's entrance.

Another figure entered, flanked by fifteen disciplined soldiers who moved with an almost mechanical precision.

He was tall, abnormally so, his smooth black hair perfectly styled, and his horns curved gracefully, resembling a regal crown.

His commanding presence instantly overshadowed Reis.

Nerissa retracted her mana, letting Reis go free, her gaze solely on the man.

"Take a seat, Reis," the man said with a warm smile, clapping the blue-skinned man on the back. "No one here will touch you."

Reis offered a lazy grin and sank into an empty chair, ignoring the glares from the elven elders.

"Pardon him," the man said with a silly smile on his face. "He can be rude sometimes—."

"The messenger of the Solace Kingdom, I assume," Nerissa cut into his words, her gaze crucifying him. "Why bring a member of a lesser race here?"

"Careful now, Lady Nerissa," he smiled softly, "your words might affect the whole elven race—."

"Introduce yourself," Narcos cut in, trying to act like a king for once.

"Of course," the man said with a respectful nod. "My name is Hayes, a messenger of the Solace Kingdom."

"State all the demands your kingdom has before we proceed," Mariam said flatly, her voice devoid of its usual warmth.

Hayes's smile widened ever so slightly.

"The Solace Kingdom demands that the World Tree be handed over to the protection of the Demiurge."