Ascension Of The Villain

A veil lifted.

Iyana found herself in a new palace. Dressed in white. Being welcomed. After the wedding.

But it wasn't joyful.

Dreading.

That girl—Jade—stood under the arch of royal roses, veil pinned perfectly into silken hair, the weight of her crown heavier than the sky.

She smiled.

She had to.

But then…

The gift arrived. Multiple boxes.

Lined in velvet and sealed with wax. Blood dripping from underneath. One by one, they were brought before her as wedding offerings.

But she already knew. Before a single lid was opened, she knew.

Her breath caught as she stared at the first box.

Inside—was her swordsmaster's head. His eyes half-lidded. That faint scar near his jawline still visible.

Next came her knight's—the man who taught her how to ride a horse and once shielded her from a wild dog as a child.

Then the servants. People who had dressed her, fed her, whispered jokes into her ears when the palace felt too cold.

And finally…

Ravi.

One of the palace guards. Her childhood friend. Just a boy with kind hands and soft eyes who had often made her laugh when no one else could.

They weren't even in a relationship.

They'd never kissed. Never confessed. Never spoken of love.

And yet…

He was the one she had cared for the most. Silently. Stubbornly. Stupidly.

And she told it to her husband. That there was someone whom she cared for. She hadn't specified. That's what had resulted in this massacre.

Now every person she had ever cared for, their heads sat in a box, nestled like a gem among the silk.

Iyana felt Jade's lungs shrink. Her throat was tight, her mouth dry. Her own thoughts drowned beneath Jade's emotions.

The sheer stillness Jade felt seeped into her bones—numbness so heavy it turned her into stone. No screaming. No sobbing. Just numbness.

That night—Jade's wedding night—Iyana followed her steps like a ghost wearing someone else's skin.

The palace was vast, but Jade moved like a doll. Empty. Mechanic. Her gown whispered across marble as she walked to Edgar's chambers.

She didn't knock.

He looked up from his chair. A wine glass in hand. Eyes bored.

"Why did you do it?" Jade asked.

He smiled.

Smiled.

"Did you really think I, the Emperor of Haynes, would allow my wife to have an affair?"

Her head spun.

"I—I wasn't going to—"

He cut her off with a lazy shrug.

"Then think of it as me removing your weakness. An empress should have no cracks."

The words didn't hurt. Nothing did. That was the worst part. Or at least that's what she thought.

Until he stood up.

Took a step toward her.

She stepped back instinctively. "Why are you coming closer?" Her voice trembled now. She hated it.

He tilted his head. "I'm your husband."

She stared. "You told me there would be no relationship between us."

He scoffed, brushing off her words like dust. "Yes, I might've said that. But you're the empress of this nation. It's your duty to give an heir."

Silence. A beat passed. Then came a whisper of realization.

"Oh."

Just that. One word. Quiet. Flat.

Everything made sense now. She had made a mistake. A grave, irreversible mistake. And now—her life was no longer hers. She wasn't a woman anymore.

Not Jade. Not a person. Not a soul.

Just a vessel. A polished, gilded vessel to birth the empire's future and smile in portraits.

A display piece. A crown with a heartbeat.

Iyana choked on the wave of despair rising in Jade's chest.

And then, pure violation. Self-respect crushed. Undesired touch. No pleasure. Stinging pain. Rough.

Finally, darkness.

Next, she could still feel the sheets.

That stifling silk. It clung to Jade's skin like the memory of him. The smell of sweat and rot lingered in the air, mixing with the iron tang of blood between her thighs.

Iyana tried to move. She felt disgusted. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to escape from this terrifying dream she was stuck in.

She wanted to cry and fight. Not for herself. For Jade. As a fellow woman.

But her body wasn't hers. It was Jade's again. She was in her. And Jade wasn't screaming. Wasn't crying. Wasn't fighting.

She was just… lying there.

Like a corpse that forgot to stop breathing.

Eyes wide open. Staring at the ceiling as though it held the answers to a question no one ever let her ask.

What was the point?

What was the point of surviving, if all that waited on the other side was this?

This pain.

This humiliation.

This grotesque silence that echoed in her ears even louder than his grunts had.

Jade's fingers twitched slightly, curling against the sheets as though she could claw her way out of here. But she couldn't.

And Iyana couldn't either.

She could feel it—Jade's thoughts, raw and blood-slicked.

Wouldn't it be easier to disappear? Right now, into the abyss. No more pretense. No more lies. No more cruelty.

There's nothing left for me here. It'd be better if I just disappeared into the darkness.

That was when the voice came.

Soft. Velvety. So quiet it felt like it was already a part of her.

"Don't you want revenge?"

Jade didn't flinch.

Her eyes remained blank, hollow like burnt-out stars. Her voice came dry.

"How can I?" A pause. "I'm powerless." And she was.

She wasn't born in Haynes. She didn't have mana dancing through her veins like most of its people did. Her swordplay was barely passable. She could craft potions, sure—but they were mediocre at best. Nothing she ever did would be enough to matter in a world that had already decided she was less.

"But you want to matter, don't you?" the voice whispered, curling around her like a slow, suffocating smoke. "You want to make them pay. Edgar. His council. This empire that bought you like cattle."

"You're offering me power?" Jade asked, still not moving.

"Yes. Real power. The kind that makes everyone tremble. The kind that can gut an empire from the inside."

"Why would you give that to me?"

The voice purred. "Because I gain what you give me. And you, Jade, have the potential to become my most valuable donor."

Something twitched in her expression. Just slightly. "Donor?"

"Of lives."

Iyana's heart squeezed painfully as she heard it. The price. Blood. Suffering. Death. Souls.

"Won't you offer me some fresh human lives… in exchange for the power I grant you?"

Silence. Not revulsion. Not shock. Just a pause. A calm consideration.

Because Jade wasn't afraid of dying anymore. She was afraid of wasting this pain. "…It's not that I can't…" she murmured. "…but—"

"But?" the darkness coaxed. "Don't you want to ruin that man?"

Iyana saw the flicker. The spark. The first sign of life in Jade's eyes.

"Don't you want to drag him down to the same pit he threw you in? To watch him beg, to hear him scream? To make him so dependent on you that he becomes powerless without you?"

The voice grew harsher now, darker, feeding on the rot already festering in her.

"Don't you want to shatter this rotten empire that decided your worth based on your womb and your homeland?"

"Don't you want to burn them all?"

Jade's lips parted.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she smiled.

It was small. Crooked. So, Iyana watched Jade make a deal with the darkness itself.

The Jade that emerged after that was the empress that Iyana had always known until now.

She was a storm wearing silk.

She didn't raise her voice. She didn't wave a sword. She didn't need to.

Her eyes did the work—sharp and cold. She watched, calculated, and positioned her pawns. She didn't scream about justice.

She calmly engineered vengeance.

When Fiona became a problem—giving birth to two heirs before Jade—Jade didn't snap.

She smiled.

And then Fiona died.

Oh, it was brilliant.

A poisoning? Yes.

Made it seem like an accident? Hardly.

It was a public unraveling. A masterpiece.

Everyone knew Jade had done it. And yet not a single piece of proof remained. Not a single soul could speak against her.

That was her true power. Not magic, not blades.

And Edgar?

The fool was furious, yes. But also desperate.

He needed Jade now more than ever.

His military might was considerable—but his mana reserve? Pathetic. That was why the nobles whispered behind his back. That was why they hesitated to truly respect him.

That was why he had to kill his own father to claim the throne. Because a coup was the only path open to a man who couldn't win them over with his bloodline.

So Jade offered him a gift. A deal.

"Let me be. And I will make you stronger."

He accepted. Like the idiot he was. And she began her work.

Transferring mana to him. Not hers. Others'. Drained. Harvested. Fed to the dog who bit the hand of his father.

And he? He drank it up.

He didn't even realize it was dark magic. He didn't want to ask questions, because for the first time in his miserable life, the nobles looked at him with something like respect.

And Jade?

She stood behind him, the smile never reaching her eyes, waiting for his downfall.

Iyana staggered back into herself as she now understood.

Jade wasn't born cruel. She was made cruel. By a worthless man.