The Villain's Story

Chapter 653: [653] Kizmal, Supreme of Lightning.

“Kizmal? Ah, Kizmal is a giant, young prince.”

Alan stopped, wondering if this Kizmal would be like the giants he had faced back then at Gigantia. Though they weren’t really that strong compared to him, Alan had to admit that they were false giants.

Giants with genetic defects, courtesy of the Supreme dragon of Fire, Agri.

He always thought of what it would be like to fight a real giant, once considered an enemy of his race.

“But he died. The queen killed him. He was a supreme of lightning, and in search of more power and a unique elemental relation, he targeted Lanekia, where the river of frost was most powerful.”

Alan waited for him to complete his words, digesting bits and pieces of the information.

“I remember the day he marched on Lanekia with his armies. Ha! I could have ended him right then and there, but the queen-fierce and unyielding-insisted on handling it herself. She was the youngest of Her Majesty’s bloodline, and whispers of nepotism had always shadowed her rise to power.

They dismissed her, sneered at her, called her a frail supreme unworthy of the title. To them, she was nothing more than a pretender. A false one.”

He chuckled, letting out a joke.

“Oh, the look on their faces as she killed Kizmal, and used his remains as the foundation of the civilization on Lanekia, and her castle. All those doubts were cleared in an instant.”

Alan paused, his gaze locked onto Azmakul. His voice trembled slightly as he cautiously asked,

“… Wait. What do you mean by that? Using his remains…?”

Azmakul chuckled, almost amused by the question.

“Ah, well, when the giant fell, your mother removed his flesh and hollowed out his bones. She carved them with her power, shaping them into habitable spaces for the other species under her care.”

He spoke so casually, as though describing a simple construction project, but Alan’s face turned pale. That was anything but a simple construction project.

“We dug out his remains,” Azmakul continued, “and allowed the species to adapt them as they pleased. Quite resourceful, really! They’ve built a thriving settlement-an architectural marvel. As for Kizmal…”

His tone turned darker, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. That terrified Alan even

more.

“That old fool still attempts to revive himself, birthing thralls infused with the power of lightning. It’s a convenient source of endless electricity. And a fine hunting ground, wouldn’t you agree?”

Alan could only stare, the blood draining from his face as the implications sunk in. His mind reeled, flashing back to the odd door he’d passed through on his way to Lanesha’s castle. He had thought it strange at the time, but now he understood.

It was Kizmal’s teeth…! The gate was carved into his teeth!

His guardian dragon, the benevolent and kind Lanesha, had built her castle within the hollowed-out skull of a fallen giant. His stomach churned at the realization, and a shudder ran through him.

‘Oh, gods… That’s horrifying.’

His horror deepened as another unsettling truth dawned on him. Lanesha, the one he revered, wasn’t just his guardian. Before she bestowed her blessing on him… There was another one she gave her blessing too.

James. That dragon had given her blessing to James first. Alan simply thought that was a mistake on her part… but perhaps, there was more to the story. Besides that, the way Lanesha had disposed of Kizmal, and used him, was both monstrous, ingenious…and downright psychopathic.

No wonder she chose James…

To have your flesh stripped away, your bones hollowed, your body repurposed to house lesser beings… and still be alive, clawing desperately for revival. It was a fate more horrifying than death.

Alan swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally asked that clawed at his mind.

“… So… where is his heart?”

He asked, since Kizmal… or whatever was left of him was so immense, where could the heart be? Since he was all bone, did he even have a heart?”

“Do you know the road you were travelling on, with that strange vehicle?”

Azmakul asked, his tone disturbingly casual. Alan nodded, a horrifying thought emerging in his mind.

He almost didn’t want to hear it…

“We built it on the surface of his bones shortly before your arrival. That road will lead you directly to his heart.”

Alan’s stomach churned as the words sank in.

“You’re currently traversing his vertebrae,”

Azmakul continued, gesturing with a faint smirk, as though discussing a scenic route. Not the dead body of a supreme…

“Keep going, and you’ll reach his left scapula. There, you’ll find the spear she used to impale him during their battle.”

His insides churned, with each word.

“Climb on top of it, the spear was hollowed out and there you will find an entrance to the sea in his spine. You can dive in, but I wouldn’t recommend that for the rest of your cohort. It is better to descend carefully, lest they will be nothing but bloody mist the moment they hit the water.”

“Chop chop prince, I’ll have to see what I can do with your cohort, I will not let them be so weak!”

He disappeared, after saying something that would traumatize most people, so

nonchalantly.

‘Who…would be okay living in the body of a dead supreme…and one that is vehemently trying to revive itself, filled with vengeance?’

The citizens of Lanekia were perhaps the only ones who could boast they lived inside a supreme being, and used his body for resources while the supreme they lived inside was doing

whatever he could to revive himself…

Filled with vengeance towards them, as well.

It seemed to him, the citizens of Lanekia were batshit crazy.

How ironic, considering it was him who was saying that.

Alan was left alone in the middle of the vast expanse of white snow, his only company being

the glowing pillar of ice.

‘Wait…’

Suddenly, a gruesome thought occurred in his mind.

‘Am I… standing on Kizmal right now?’

If so, what part of his skeleton were these snowy fields? Surely, the entirety of Lanekia wasn’t

the skeleton… right?

Azmakul appeared in the Jade palace, in one of the courtyards, like a flash of lightning.

Humming to himself, he looked up at the river and examined the surroundings of the castle for a while, taking in their beauty, enhanced by the light of the river. The buildings basked in the cyan light, becoming a reflected light.

Like the sun did to the moon.

“It truly is an exact replica of the queen’s palace, How fascinating. The thickness of blood can’t be underestimated.” He mused, stroking his chin.

Alan’s castle was an exact replica of the queen’s, however, it missed the amazing quality of being in the skull of a fallen giant, one that was also a supreme being.

“That said, It is unique in its own ways.”

Azmakul mumbled, staring at the two serpents coiling around two large spires. Architecturally, The castle of the prince was the same as the castle of the Queen, but it had its

special functions.

The two serpents intrigued Azmakul, not only could he sense the soul of the prince clearly in them, but he also realized they were equal to him in strength.

The only flaw they possessed besides their large bodies may be that they couldn’t use magic,

the most they could manage a fragile imitation of a dragon’s breath.

“Hmm?” Azmakul noticed a Jade knight staring at him, pointing his spear towards the Ancient dragon with scared eyes. It didn’t dare attack though, it was as it was petrified by fear.

“Oh, you possess a fragment of the prince’s soul, too.”

Azmakul moved his fingers and sent him away, careful not to destroy the knight, being careless with his power would destroy the entire palace. He had to exercise caution.

He was most eager to study them for a while, and explore the other functions of the palace, but he knew he had something else to do. Something more urgent.

Flicking his fingers, he manipulated the mana in the surrounding area and brought everyone belonging to the prince’s cohort in the vast courtyard.

Kazikato, Sabrina, Alice, Maxwell, Olivia, Alexander, Edward, and Emma were all here,

assuming a forced upright position except for Kazikato, who was still processing what had

happened.

The poor man had tried to sleep in the throne room, but the rest woke him up and forced him

to travel with them, a river had suddenly appeared, and now he was in a courtyard.

‘…fuck this.’

He thought, assuming a fetal position and going back to sleep. Azmakul looked at him, and

surprisingly let him do as he pleased, shrugging his shoulders.

He was surprisingly gentle with him.

Looking at the rest with a somber gaze, he said.

“Now, I can rest easy knowing why you were all called here, right?”

They couldn’t speak, his mana forbid them from doing so. All they could do was bear with the

cold, and look at him with confused, and somewhat terrified faces.