The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen-Chapter 307

Mikhail stood alone in the darkness.

His head bowed.

He paid no attention to me as I descended into the underground chamber, instead taking labored breaths while holding an old sword in his hand.

In the original flow of the novel, the sword he held should have been broken, yet Mikhail, gripping it tightly, responded to my question with a long silence.

"..."

"Miss Misa?"

"..."

Mikhail gave no reply.

Though I felt a bit hurt by Mikhail’s indifferent reaction—ignoring me even when someone had arrived—I decided to forgive his rudeness, remembering the bond we once shared as friends. After all, I was grateful he was still alive and well.

It was a bond born of resentment.

Not one of fondness.

Considering the Academy matters, there wouldn’t have been anything good to say. But thinking of our friendship, and as a reader who once loved this story, I had come to save Mikhail. For that, I expressed my gratitude that he was still in good health.

"..."

Looking at Mikhail, I murmured softly to myself, "So, what kind of trick has the Archbishop played this time?"

Knowing the personality of the Archbishop of Oblivion, there was no way he would let me take Mikhail peacefully.

Especially when considering the groundwork he had laid with large-scale illusion magic in the abandoned village. It was all the more reason to believe he wouldn’t make this easy. Whatever he had prepared, it was bound to be extraordinary, though I couldn’t quite predict what it would be.

"Sigh... It’s about time to give the young lady her snack."

Muttering a small complaint, I took a step closer to the motionless Mikhail. And then...

-Swoooosh...

I saw the darkness shift violently.

The space had changed.

To be precise, it was accurate to call it large-scale illusion magic.

"Illusion magic, huh…."

The once-dark underground chamber began to transform, exuding the thick scent of magic, into an image from old memories.

A blue sky appeared.

-Kyaaaah!

And the dusty scenery of the slums from childhood came into view.

’Damn.’

Was I momentarily lost in nostalgia at the sight of this long-unseen landscape? A chilling breeze suddenly blew past my right shoulder.

-Whoosh!

Frowning, I lightly dodged the approaching wind. Then I felt the warm, wet sensation of blood trickling down, dampening my cheek.

’Blood...?’

Taking a step back, I widened my eyes as I turned to the source of the wind.

It was Mikhail.

Mikhail, whose face bore no expression.

"No way... Miss Misa."

Even if he didn’t want to see me, swinging a sword at me was going too far.

Looking at the sword in Mikhail’s hand, I let out a sigh. The previous attack had been one filled with killing intent. Feeling the unmistakable clarity of Mikhail’s intent, I let out a bitter laugh and sighed again.

"Miss Misa."

"..."

"You’re really going to scare someone like this? I didn’t teach you swordsmanship for this purpose."

About a minute of silence passed without any reply.

"You."

From Mikhail’s firmly shut lips, a cold voice began to flow.

"Who are you?"

"...Me?"

"Who are you to talk to me like we’re close?"

My mind went blank.

I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

I had anticipated the possibility of memory manipulation to make him attack me or turn me into his nemesis. But creating a space from old memories and erasing the existence of "Ricardo" from them? That, I hadn’t expected.

’What a twisted game.’

Shaking my head, I let out a deep sigh at the Archbishop’s prank, which was more playful than I’d imagined. Unexpected variables were never welcome.

As I stood there dumbfounded, Mikhail, with sharp eyes, addressed me in a cold voice.

"How do you know my name?"

"..."

"Answer me."

’How much does he remember?’

Cautiously, I posed a question to Mikhail.

"Didn’t you tell me before?"

"I did?"

"Yes."

"I didn’t even tell Egugu Minhyuk, though…."

"It’s not Egugu Minhyuk. It’s Lee Minhyuk."

"How do you know Lee Minhyuk?"

"He’s my friend."

"Hmm... Hmmm."

Furrowing his brows as he stared intently at me, Mikhail eventually nodded as if it didn’t matter and brought a finger to his lips.

"Anyway, be careful."

"Yes."

"And don’t tell Egugu Minhyuk."

"Understood."

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Though the person in question was right in front of him, he insisted it be kept a secret. I suppressed a laugh, keeping my lips tightly shut at Mikhail’s serious expression.

’This won’t be resolved easily.’

After talking with him a bit more, it became clear that Mikhail’s memories had reverted to his childhood—the time we lived together in the slums.

The period before he met "Ricardo" at the Academy and before he went to the nunnery. Stuck in those memories, Mikhail smiled brightly and held my hand tightly.

"Follow me."

"Pardon?"

"I said follow me. Didn’t you come here to go to Orc Minhyuk too?"

"...Why does the name keep changing? He has a perfectly good name…"

"Shh!"

Ignoring my protest, Mikhail firmly declared,

"I made plans to beg with Lee Minhyuk today. He gets really mad if you’re late, so we need to hurry."

Hearing my real name from Mikhail for the first time in ages, I gave an awkward smile, feeling conflicted.

’What should I do?’

Dispel the illusion magic? That would be easy enough.

This clumsy magic meant to evoke nostalgia wasn’t a problem. What weighed on my mind was…

"Hurry up!"

Mikhail’s memories were the issue.

If I handled this poorly, he could spiral into panic. If I recklessly tried to erase the Oblivion Magic with my own abilities, there was no telling what might happen. I had to tread carefully.

’This is troublesome.’

The most straightforward solution in this situation was…

To kill the caster of the dark magic.

In this scenario, that brute-force method was the safest option.

As Mikhail tugged on my sleeve, he looked up at me.

"Hey… you know."

"Yes?"

"What’s your name?"

"...Me?"

What should I say?

"Ricardo."

"What a terrible name. You must have a horrible personality."

"That’s actually kind of hurtful."

"Pfft..."

I nodded slightly as I watched Mikhail trying to hide his lifted corners of his mouth. Whatever he was scheming, I figured I should play along with his grumbling.

That seemed like the best way to resolve things smoothly.

As Mikhail firmly held onto my sleeve, I let him guide me, following the pull of his hand.

’Seeing it like this, it looks so small.’

Mikhail, who seemed rough, actually had small, delicate hands. They looked as if they might break if squeezed too hard.

Mikhail, staring blankly at his own hand, suddenly spoke to me curtly, as if snapping me out of my daze.

"Ricardo."

"Yes."

"Have you ever begged?"

"Um... no?"

Since I had never begged under this name, it wasn’t a lie.

Mikhail looked at me, then smirked and puffed out his chest confidently. He seemed excited, like a senior showing off to a junior, as he strode forward with purpose.

"Then just trust me and follow my lead."

"Understood."

"The begging can must absolutely be shiny."

"Got it."

"You have to stomp on it to make it look pitiful."

"I see."

"And then..."

Mikhail, who had been enthusiastically explaining the art of begging for a while, suddenly stopped walking as we entered a familiar alleyway.

"Huh...?"

And then.

He froze in place, stiff as a board. Like someone terrified, Mikhail couldn’t take his eyes off a corner of the alley.

I looked at Mikhail and asked why he was standing like that.

"What’s wrong?"

"...Something’s off."

Mikhail was trembling.

He stared blankly down the empty alleyway, his body quivering.

"Something’s off."

"What’s off?"

"Something’s off... Something’s off... Something’s off..."

Mikhail, repeating the same words over and over, suddenly grabbed his hair and crouched down.

"Lee Minhyuk is missing."

"What?"

"Here... Lee Minhyuk should be here."

Mikhail pointed at an empty tin can, his eyes shaking.

"Minhyuk should be here."

"..."

"Minhyuk is..."

-Clang!

Muttering to himself, Mikhail threw the tin can he was holding to the ground and started running.

"Where are you going!!"

He ran.

Desperately.

Mikhail began sprinting, his face filled with urgency, as if he had just remembered something long forgotten.

"Minhyuk is in danger."

"Could you at least tell me where you’re going!"

"Minhyuk is in danger... because of me."

’Damn it.’

What could possibly be so dangerous?

I’m standing here perfectly fine.

I bit my lip as I watched Mikhail’s retreating figure.

-Clang!

"Ugh... It hurts..."

Tripping over his own feet, Mikhail fell to the ground, clutching his scraped knee with a pained expression. Yet, the urgency in his gaze as he stared down the street remained.

"Sigh... Why are you suddenly running like that? You scared me."

I let out a sigh as I hurried over to the fallen Mikhail. For many reasons, I couldn’t just ignore him.

"Let go...!"

"Are you alright?"

"Don’t act all friendly. You ugly thing...!"

"That’s a pretty harsh thing to say."

Mikhail slapped away my outstretched hand and started running again.

To a place he seemed to know well.

And to the place where my childhood had ended.

"Lee Minhyuk!"

Mikhail kept running.

’Ugh, seriously... I really don’t like this kind of thing.’

"Orc Minhyuk!"

Shaking my head at the name he still couldn’t pronounce properly no matter how many times I corrected him, I stepped into the trap laid by the Archbishop.

Whatever he had prepared.

"..."

This time, I resolved to see it through to the end.

I ran toward the conclusion of the story.

*

-Swoosh...

The relentless rain was falling again.

True to the Archbishop’s role as the keeper of memories, the vivid recreation of the past made me smirk bitterly.

"Huff... Huff..."

Drenched in sweat, Mikhail panted heavily, his shoulders trembling.

"...Huh?"

His gaze fixed on a single point.

Watching Mikhail’s trembling shoulders, I muttered softly.

’It’s been a while. This place.’

The place where I spent the longest time with Mikhail. And the place where we had the worst goodbye. Standing under the eerie shadow cast by the old bridge, I tightly shut my eyes.

And then.

"Minhyuk!!!!!!!"

I heard Mikhail’s anguished scream.

I.

Looked into the eyes of the middle-aged man crouching over, his foot pressing down on the head of my younger self.

And the middle-aged man, locking eyes with me.

"It’s been a while, kiddo."

Smirked with a sinister grin at our long-awaited reunion.