The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 45

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 45
“Ah, your reaction says it all….”
He scratched his head with an air of annoyance, muttering to himself.
The leaf cigarette between his lips released the peculiar scent of grass—cool and acrid at once.
“How did you know…?”
He looked sidelong at Rozellin, his voice drawn and languid.
Though it seemed like a question directed at her, he didn’t press her for an answer, as if he hadn’t truly expected one.
“I’m not usually one to blunder this badly.”
He rubbed his sparse beard with his hand and sighed, short and sharp.
“Look, miss, even by my standards I’m not one for much thinking.”
“…Your appearance alone suggests you were never built for it.”
“That’s harsh. Either way, the point is I hate when my plans fall apart.”
……
Rozellin’s eyes narrowed as she watched him speak on, unprompted and unreplied to, spinning his own narrative. His true intentions remained utterly opaque to her.
He raised his hand slowly and closed his fingers around her throat.
There was nothing but languor in his touch—no malice, no enmity—so it wasn’t until his grip had already tightened that Rozellin realized her neck was caught.
Thump-thump-thump.
Thump-thump-thump.
The man, whose expression had been dull and listless moments before, smiled now with something like rapture in his eyes.
Her face remained impassive, yet her heart hammered wildly beneath—a betrayal he could feel against his palm.
“You’re quite practiced at hiding your expression. But you, miss….”
Rozellin drew a sharp breath, seized by a panic so acute her heart felt ready to burst from her throat.
Death itself wasn’t what frightened her most—it was the fear manufactured in anticipation, and the pain she would endure before it came.
“Ah, truth is, I’m supposed to kill you.”
The man spoke plainly.
“But sometimes these little variables, this thrill—it makes things interesting, you know?”
Above his languid face, another expression emerged—one etched with cruelty.
The Hedonist laughed with vicious delight, curling the corner of his mouth upward.
“Try to persuade me, will you? Give me a reason I should let you live. I’ll do my best to be swayed.”
Rozellin clamped her mouth shut and glared at him.
“…Let go.”
“Hmm?”
“Release me. It’s disgusting.”
The man blinked blankly at her words.
“Is that supposed to be persuasion?”
“I’m telling you—don’t touch my body with those filthy hands you haven’t even bothered to wash after eating.”
Rozellin slowly closed her eyes, then opened them, tilting her chin up defiantly.
“That’s an order.”
……
The man seemed momentarily unable to process the situation, falling silent for a long stretch.
He held the leaf cigarette between his lips and stared down at her for a time before pulling his hand away, pressing his palm to his forehead, and laughing outright.
“Wow, that’s crazy. What, is suicide your hobby?”
“The crudeness of your words alone is all the proof one needs of your character.”
When Rozellin didn’t retreat an inch, the man’s eyes narrowed and he drew deeply on the leaf cigarette in silence.
“What, do you have some hidden trump card or something?”
He found himself unaccountably puzzled by her composed words.
“Are you afraid of a child stamping out ants? Some passing mutt would laugh at you.”
At her jab—turning his own logic back on him, suggesting his behavior now was no different from a child crushing insects—the man spat out the cigarette and ground it beneath his heel.
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, young lady. You’re hastening your own end.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Fine. What. No interest in a persuasion that lacks conviction anyway—bores me to death. Just die, miss.”
“Landarin. Rotan. Wardle. Terras.”
At her words, the man’s extended hand froze. All of them—the villages he’d planned to lay waste to next, each and every one.
And of all things, in precisely the order she’d just spoken them.
“You’re finished anyway, Aximus.”
The man, Aximus, lowered his outstretched hand.
“Or would you prefer I call you Count Aximus Baldur?”
“What are you saying, miss?”
He tilted his head and asked quietly.
Rozellin regarded him impassively.
“Hmm. How much do you know?”
“Well, who am I? How much could I possibly know?”
“Rozellin……!”
Before her evasive words could finish, a violent gust slammed against her with a thunderous crash.
“How dare you……!”
The face twisted with savage fury and the eyes dripping with rage belonged to Arma—and yet they did not.
“…Arma?”
“You took so long to come that I went looking for you…….”
Arma, murmuring softly, drew his blade and rushed at Aximus.
Rozellin held her breath as she watched the battle between Arma and Aximus unfold at a speed invisible to the naked eye.
“What are you?”
“My goodness, these young folk are so hot-blooded~. Here I am, all ancient and creaking in every joint…….”
The man retreated, fleeing from Arma’s assault as he spoke.
Watching Aximus slip away so deftly, Arma reflexively started to invoke the Abyss before catching himself.
‘He’s strong.’
Arma’s eyes narrowed.
But he was manageable—if only his hands and feet weren’t bound.
Yet if he were to activate the Abyss here and unleash his power, Arma would inevitably be dragged into a troublesome affair.
“Listen!! What kind of worthless dog dares lay a hand on our delicate young lady?! Which one of you bastards is begging to die?!”
Crash——!!
Sanja of the Kaluuta, who had burst in upon hearing the commotion from outside, drove a punch into the earth that sent it caving inward.
“……Oh. Silver hair…… Don’t tell me you’re one of the Kaluuta?”
“That’s right, you shameless cur. Our young lady looks like she’d topple over in a breeze, yet here you are acting like some mangy beast without an ounce of honor. Today’s your Memorial Day, you wretched thing.”
“How did beasts that should be lurking in the Dense Forest crawl all the way here?”
“Who do you call beasts, you worse-than-beast scum!”
Sanja seized the man by the scruff of his neck and hurled him clean out of the lodging, then immediately kicked off the ground to pursue him, shouting all the while.
“Young lady, what exactly is this?”
At the commotion outside, Rozellin fell silent.
“Rozellin……! Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Well, that’s quite unexpected. Good. Good. This has some entertainment value to it. I like it, I like it.”
The sound of the man laughing with genuine delight echoed from outside.
Screams and thunderous crashes followed as Sanja engaged him, as though bombs were detonating one after another.
“Hey, help me out here!”
“Don’t be ridiculous! This prey is mine, you lot. Don’t you dare touch him! I’ve finally found something entertaining after all this time.”
The Kaluuta chuckled amongst themselves in conversation.
“…Thank goodness, Rozellin.”
Arma gripped Rozellin’s hand tightly.
‘If we’d been just a moment later…….’
Rozellin would have been dead.
Even knowing that, the slight smile that crossed her face made Arma’s heart skip.
“I’m fine, so don’t worry yourself.”
Rozellin spoke matter-of-factly.
Arma’s face crumpled. He hadn’t expected gratitude, but neither had he wanted her to draw such a clear line between them.
“Miss, everything that happens from now on is your fault.”
Suddenly, a voice echoed at the edge of his hearing.
“So today…….”
“Today is your Memorial Day.”
Along with the voice spoken as though grinding between teeth,
Rumble—.
Crash!
Brilliant lightning split the sky, and violet rain began to pour down.
“Rozellin, are you hurt?”
“She doesn’t appear to be injured.”
Rozellin’s eyes widened.
“……Father?”
Certi Bellion—who should not have been here—blocked her view.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————