Misunderstood Villain Heroines Mourn My Death Chapter 350

[ … words ]

As the world blinked… as ’His’ voice rolled, a laugh layered under it, neither cruel nor kind, like puppets pulled upright, everyone stood.

Everyone.

Blood reversed, veins healed, and bones snapped back in place.

They weren’t just restored; they were improved.

All who Fell became stronger…

Healthier.

It was as if every afterbirth defect they ever had was erased.

And soon enough, their breathing returned, their vision clearing.

Minds, though still shaken, were now held back together.

Only then… only when the world healed.

Only then did Sinbad and the Lady let out a breath.

Their feathers and robes loosened.

They felt incredible relief.

Though they didn’t look it, they too were nervous. Beyond nervous.

This was the Sultan of Sultans, and ’His’ eyes fell upon them.

It was a miracle they lived.

***

{Inside The Projection}

Black voids drifted back to Malik.

“You can speak freely now.”

’His’ voice remained smooth, casual, and terrifyingly normal.

“They can’t hear us. Only those of my rank could.”

’He’ flicked ’His’ hand lazily.

“The rest are muted.”

Malik gave a slow nod, barely a shift in his expression.

His golden eyes fell to the table, an attempt to keep calm, perhaps.

It worked, and he noticed something sitting on the corner of the table.

A tiny little statue.

It was… plain.

A simple white figure.

No mouth or no face, only two giant, round black eyes.

They looked no different than the True Sultan’s.

“…Who’s that?”

Malik gestured towards it.

The True Sultan’s gaze twitched.

’His’ hand hovered like ’He’ was about to answer, but then ’He’ clicked ’His’ tongue.

“…Damn. Almost forgot you’re just a Mithqal.”

’He’ leaned back, folding ’His’ arms behind ’His’ head, actions that Malik saw nothing of.

“That right there… that’s the Prince of the Fallen. The Puppeteer… the one this entire Epoch is built on.”

Malik’s brows lifted, three words escaping him:

“After Dissappearing Star…”

The True Sultan chuckled.

“Yup… That deranged fucker. The only one in history to clear the Hell Difficulty in ’His’ trial. Ever. And yeah… it took ’Him’ more than one ’try.’”

Malik stared at the figure, his gaze lingering.

Something about those eyes…

He opened his mouth, about to ask more—

“Stop.”

The True Sultan lifted a finger, though again, Malik didn’t see it.

“Don’t ask… not about ’Him.’”

’He’ leaned forward, elbows on the table now.

“Because, kid… You ain’t the side character here.”

A grin tugged at the corner of ’His’ lips.

“You’re the main character of this story.”

Malik’s head tilted slightly, deadpan as ever.

“Then, as the main character… tell me.”

His voice turned a slight bit sharp.

“If you’re a God… why watch the world burn? Why… why let people suffer?… Why let me suffer? Let me rot? Live through something that no one ever should? Is it just to teach me? Force lessons down my throat? Why?… Why let it all burn?”

The True Sultan grinned.

“There are rules we have to follow… Yes, we, too, are shackled. Besides, it’s a test. One that you, as you more than understand, learn from. The One Above All. The Slumbering Creator. The Lord Of All Worlds. The All-Compassionate. The All-Merciful. The King of Kings. The Holy. The Absolute Infinite. The Writer of Writers. The Author of Everything… The One With Ninety-Nine Titles… Whose knowledge was in the Scripts. Whose remnants of ’breath’ is Aether… Our Lord… The Almighty likes those.”

Hm… Typical and predictable.

“Of course.”

Malik muttered, caring not for whose titles ’He’ dropped.

“A test… heard enough of that from the preachers.”

“But it is.”

’He’ shrugged.

“A test is a test, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Malik’s golden eyes narrowed… a little tired.

“Then tell me…”

His voice dropped colder.

“What kind of test was Jasmine’s life?”

The table went quiet… though only for a moment.

“A little girl… a pitiful little girl.”

Malik continued.

“She was taken from her parents. Locked in a cage. Sold illegally to the highest bidder. And when she was saved… when finally, finally, she had a chance at life… she was Corrupted. She was CORRUPTED. When hope was at its brightest… everything was lost. When she was about to bloom… head towards a dream so lovely, so simple… It was all taken away. I HAD TO TAKE IT ALL AWAY.”

His voice didn’t rise.

“You watched.”

It didn’t crack.

“You were sitting there, just watching.”

It was mechanical.

“Voyeurism at its peak, huh?”

Colder than any steel.

“Bet I was really fun to watch too.”

The True Sultan blinked once.

Twice.

Thrice.

“Tests…”

’He’ sighed.

“Tests ain’t individual, kid.”

’His’ fingers tapped the table.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. You are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Ergo, she wasn’t the only one getting tested. Her kidnappers? Tested. Her fellow kidnapped kids? Tested. The ones who walked past and did nothing? Tested. You? Tested. Everyone in her orbit. Everyone who crossed paths with her. That’s how it works… how Fate works.”

’His’ finger jabbed the air.

“Essentially, Fate is a series of interconnected tests. It connects you to those you met, are meeting, and will meet. What happens to one ripples into everyone else. Nobody’s in a vacuum. You think it’s just about you? No. You might be really special, like really, really special, but you’re not all that, you know?”

’He’ rubbed ’His’ temple.

“And don’t start with the ’why didn’t you save us’ crap. If I did? Oh boy, you’d be crying about free will. ’Waaah, why can’t I choose? Why is God meddling? Waaah.’ Shut up. If I could, I’d have killed half of you already. And what did you say? You had to take it away? Heh. Don’t be too overconfident… Pride goeth before the Fall and all that.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Malik didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

It took him a few seconds to process what he heard.

And slowly, so very slowly, he blinked.

Did he really hear what he heard?

Was he hallucinating somehow?

Staring at Malik’s somewhat confused face, the True Sultan rolled ’His’ eyes.

“Oh Lord, you humans really are an annoying bunch of sassy bitches.”

Malik’s expression started to change once more.

Yeah, no. He wasn’t hallucinating. No way his mind would think this up.

This was all real, and that made it even more ridiculous. Hearing a literal God say “sassy bitches” wasn’t something he ever expected to exist in his memory.

The True Sultan snapped ’His’ fingers again before Malik’s thoughts could spiral any further.

“Enough of that. Focus.”

’His’ grin faded, and the air grew heavier, reality itself creaking under something unspeakable.

“I’ll be honest with you, kid.”

’His’ voice lost its playfulness.

“I’m dying.”

Malik’s eyes flicked up.

’He’ waved vaguely toward the desert horizon.

“Had a replacement ready. Man was perfect in every way. But… yeah. ’He’ got too strong too quickly. Went completely off track. Took a whole different path. Hell, ’He’ even became a friend.”

A very pointed pause and jab.

Malik didn’t need to be a genius to know exactly who ’He’ was talking about, his eyes glancing to the little statue, but wisely, he said nothing.

“…So.”

The True Sultan continued, leaning in now.

“This time… not gonna waste the opportunity.”

’He’ pointed a single finger directly at Malik.

“I want you to replace me.”

’His’ eyes pulsed.

“…Become the next ancestor.”

Each word made Malik tremble.

“The next True Sultan.”

It got worse the more ’He’ talked.

“The ancestor of the Eternal Star.”

And then at the end…

“Ah.”

Just like that…

“I see.”

Everything clicked into place.