Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

Objectively speaking, they were stuck now. Couldn’t break through. Reinforcements? None, of course; they had a higher chance of a miracle than that happening. They were encircled, a thousand to one, maybe more. The Holy Relic’s dome made war of attrition a surefire way to die, at least without any surprises along the way. And judging by the strength of those surrounding them, Cassim wanted to tire them, and more specifically, Malik out, so that he and his ten Jinn could come along and kill them all.

This was a well-designed culling ground.

Quite an obvious one, but well designed nevertheless.

One where thousands upon thousands of bodies would be thrown into the meat grinder.

“Fuck.”

Muttered Khamal, dragging a shield into position near the forming barricades.

“He wants to erase us. Every last one.”

His people nodded at those words while continuing their work.

Indeed, the Banu Sasan had already begun reinforcing the camp, shields overlapping, crates filled with items too random to be of use stacked atop each other, and every other big-sized object used as protection.

They had brought their families alongside them in this hunt to avoid subsequent retaliation or entrapment in the city, and they’d be damned if they allowed them to die today.

Meanwhile, the families themselves huddled in the inner circle—wives, children, and old men who weren’t fighters. Not many of those. Most of them had no luxury of soft lives.

Leave for a few screamers; most of the non-combatants were surprisingly quiet, staring at the dome or the incoming bandit tide, awaiting war with calm faces.

These were the people of resistance… people who didn’t fear death.

People whom Malik was proud of.

And though they didn’t notice, at least not at first, he sat among them.

Cross-legged. In the dead center of the tents. Silent as a corpse, motionless as stone.

A white, blue Aether core sat on his lap, releasing concentrated Aether into him.

This Aether, however, wasn’t suitable for his core; rather, it conflicted with it heavily.

Ice didn’t mesh with fire all that well, after all.

That meant that he couldn’t repeat what he had done last time and just shove the core into his own enough times until it was forced to accept it.

Malik now had to go with the other route, the slower one.

Indeed, he HAD to.

He had gotten this Aether core in case he needed to use it to quickly restore his Aether in the middle of war, or if he was stuck in a loop and needed just a slight boost to break through it.

This, he had never expected.

Fighting ten Jinn at once in these conditions was suicide, even for him.

Which meant that he was realistically left with only one option.

Ranking up.

Becoming a Jinn Al-Azim. A Great Demon.

Malik was almost there already, so a breakthrough now was entirely possible.

Sure, it’d be tough considering he had yet to breathe as an Al-Wali for long, but…

He could take on ‘tough.’

It wasn’t all that bad, however.

The dome was both a gift and a curse.

Without it, he could’ve wiped the floor with them, but with it, he could cultivate faster.

Since it drained Aether out of him, it did much of the work for him, which allowed him to circulate Aether even faster through his nervous system.

A blessing in disguise, though only for a man as crazy as him.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

And one of the young recruits finally spotted that crazy.

“Is he… meditating? Now?!”

“Don’t interrupt him.”

Khamal raised his hand, gesturing for him to be quiet while looking at the slowly approaching army.

“But we’re—brother, we’re going to die! Rami—t-tell him.”

Rami, the short girl with silver braided hair, shrugged her shoulders while walking towards the barricade further out.

“Exactly why he has to do it now… Sarah, please explain.”

One of the final few crates slammed into place with a grunt from Sarah, who wiped her brow with the back of her hand and pointed toward the sky, toward the shimmering deathtrap pulsing overhead.

“He’s cultivating to ascend.”

Her voice was loud enough for everyone in the camp to hear.

“He can’t take them all on at this rank, not like this. Our Lord has already started his battle. We just have to survive long enough to watch him see it through.”

The young recruit turned to Malik, noticing that the blue-white Aether core in his lap glowed brighter now, threads of cold light wrapping around his torso like ghostly chains.

…So this was their new Lord, huh?

He stepped forward, wanting to stand in his presence.

But before he could get much closer—

“Don’t.”

Kabir’s hand snapped out, grabbing the boy’s shoulder.

“Don’t disturb him.”

His voice was hard, but not unkind.

He understood where he had come from, so he didn’t want to scare the boy.

The boy pulled back but didn’t argue, his eyes never leaving Malik.

It was almost as if he was entranced by his image, a black-clad death tinted in gold.

The fact that he was the one who had gotten them into this mess never crossed his mind.

Rather, he found himself fortunate to be serving this man, fortunate to have a Lord who immediately thought of his people whenever situations took a turn for the worse.

An Al-Wali like him could undoubtedly escape this trap if he put his mind to it.

It might be a struggle, but he definitely could.

He just never really thought about it.

Malik had thought of them, his people, first.

Never had he heard of a Lord such as him before.

A Lord who didn’t dismiss the lives of mortals, deeming them far beneath even his feet.

This Lord was a rare one… a kind one… a human one, not only divine.

After a long and heavy breath, the boy dropped to one knee.

He placed his right hand above his second heart and bowed low.

“I will protect you, my Lord.”

Kabir’s dark eyes widened at that beautiful sight.

He wasn’t at all expecting that, but he stepped forward anyway.

Kneeling beside the boy, he echoed the words:

“I will protect you, my Lord.”

Rami and Sarah followed… Then another. Then another.

One by one, soldiers who had been slamming crates into walls and hauling shields into place now dropped their weapons, fell to their knees, and pressed their hands to their second hearts.

“I will protect you, my Lord.”

It echoed through the camp, a vow they would uphold.

And Malik… Malik opened his eyes.

They glowed golden.