BJ Villainess Chapter 351

For a moment, I thought he was asking if I was a cultist of the Evil God, and my heart sank. But I quickly realized he was mistaking me for a priestess of the Holy God.

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“Ah, it’s a secret, isn’t it? I happen to be well-connected, so I heard that priests arrived in the territory today.”

 

Of all people, it had to be a well-informed merchant.

 

“I’m really not a priestess… I’m just a servant who does chores.”

 

The merchant laughed heartily and held out a bracelet made of the prettiest gemstones. “That still means you work for the Holy God, right? Here, this is my gift for you, so please take it.”

 

“I can’t accept something so valuable.”

 

“It’s nothing. Then, could I ask for a blessing for my soon-to-be-born child?”

 

Unfortunately, I’m a cultist of the Evil God. For someone like me to give a blessing—it would be no different than a curse.

 

“Even if you don’t hear anything from me, your child will be happy. After all, they have a father who wants to offer blessings.” After saying that, I fled the scene.

 

Even after that, several people asked, “Are you a priestess of the Holy God?” Thanks to that, I finally understood why Ilya had insisted on covering my face. Theresa had a really beautiful face.

 

In most games, there’s always a villain known for their exceptional beauty—and that was Theresa. When I worked at Philia’s bakery, the rumor that I was an orphan spread quickly, so no one mistook me for a priestess. I had completely forgotten that.

 

I kept hiding in alleyways to avoid the people who kept approaching me for blessings or to offer tributes. “Sigh.” I felt exhausted. The fatigue from travel, which I hadn’t noticed when I was with Ilya, now weighed heavily on me.

 

I wondered what Ilya was doing. He’s safe, right? I believed he wouldn’t fall at the hands of cultists of the Evil God, but I couldn’t help but worry. Then I suddenly felt foolish for having such an unusual sense of closeness to Ilya.

 

How long have I even known him? We’ve barely spoken. Just because I was the developer, I felt an undue connection to him. But if I acted on that, wouldn’t he be creeped out without understanding why? If it were me, I’d be even more cautious. So I needed to control my emotions and avoid treating him too warmly just because I felt attached.

 

Let’s earn Ilya’s trust first. That had to come before anything else—for my survival, too.

 

Anyway, it feels like quite some time has passed. Should I head back to where I got separated from Ilya? But before I could even step out of the alley, I heard the heavy thudding of something falling behind me. I stopped in my tracks.

 

The source of the noise was Louis and Karl, looking like they had been reduced to rags. And of course, the one who had thrown them like trash bags was Ilya. Before asking if I was hurt, Ilya gave a strange order.

 

“Swallow them.”

 

“Huh? These guys?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I looked again at the unconscious Louis and Karl, my eyes trembling in confusion. They were definitely alive. So I had assumed we would take them alive to the Great Temple for execution by fire. That was how the Great Temple exerted its influence over the people.

 

“As I told you before, when I devour a cultist of the Evil God, I lose control of my body. My powers also skyrocket.” I had explained that to him on the first day we met in the prison and traveled to the Great Temple together.

 

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you to swallow them.”

 

I couldn’t understand what he was thinking. “You want me, a cultist of Evil God, to become stronger?”

 

“Yes. Ideally, I’d like you to reach archbishop level before we get to the Great Temple.”

 

Archbishop? That meant becoming the second strongest after a cardinal.

 

If I were to explain my current power in terms of noble ranks, I’d be at the level of a count—considered a high priest from that point. An archbishop would be a duke. A cardinal, equivalent to a grand duke.

 

“May I ask why you want me to grow stronger?”

 

“Cultists of the Evil God don’t attack each other. As you said, they lost their rationality and became monsters. But you’re different.”

 

“…So you plan to have me fight other cultists of the Evil God.”

 

“If not, the Great Temple has no reason to keep you alive.”

 

It was a cold, logical statement—but one that made perfect sense. If I want to survive, I need to firmly establish myself on the side of the Holy God.

 

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

 

I took a deep breath and devoured the cultists of the Evil God with my shadow. Just like when I devoured Sella, I lost control of my body again and started attacking Ilya.

 

My abilities have definitely improved. I’d rank in the upper tier among named villains.

 

Since my target was Ilya, I wasn’t afraid even though I’d lost control. Instead, I remained calm and rational, analyzing my stats.

 

What exactly is controlling my body right now? Or is anything even controlling me at all? Since this wasn’t a setting from the game, I had to figure it out on my own. Maybe my body is moving purely on instinct. But for some reason, my rational mind was still fully functional. If that’s the case, can’t I force my consciousness to regain control over my body? It was easier said than done, but I had no choice but to try.

 

Ilya easily blocked my attacks. Then he seemed to sense something and gave a faint smile. “You’re overcoming the Evil God’s control.”

 

I repeatedly charged and got knocked back by Ilya. Eventually, the number of attacks using my special powers decreased, and my movements came to a stop.

 

“Gasp…! Gasp…!”

 

My body felt completely broken from being pushed beyond its limits. My heart felt like it was going to burst. Finally regaining control, I collapsed to the ground, unable to stand.

 

“Can you walk?”

 

No way. Not at all.

 

Even without answering, Ilya seemed to understand my condition and approached. “Pardon me.” He wrapped a robe around me and lifted me into his arms, explaining as he did so. “People are coming. It’s best we return to the inn right away.”

 

Limping in Ilya’s arms, I was carried out onto the street. Whenever people looked our way, he pulled the hood down to hide my face.

 

His face draws plenty of attention too, you know.

 

Being carried like that helped me regain some strength, and without realizing it, a faint smile slipped across my face. Ilya’s eyes briefly met mine before shifting away.

 

“Seems like you’re feeling a bit better.”

 

Afraid he’d put me down and ask me to walk, I quickly clung to his neck. “Just a bit better. I still can’t walk.”

 

“I was planning to carry you to the inn anyway.” There was a slight chuckle in his voice as he said that.

 

That reassurance gave me courage to finally say something I had been holding back. “Um, Lord Ilya, you’re not planning to lull me into trusting you and then take me to the Great Temple for torture, are you?”

 

“You thought I was that kind of person?”

 

“Well, you never know…”

 

“That won’t happen. I’ll be the one taking care of you from now on.”

 

Instead of feeling joy or gratitude at his promise, I felt wary. He’ll take care of me? For someone who had never been taken care of, those words raised my guard. So I asked a rude question I shouldn’t have. “For how long?”

 

Damn it. Why did I say that? I instantly regretted my impulsive, pointed question and bit my lip. If only I could take those words back.

 

Just before opening the inn door, Ilya paused and answered. “Until the day you die.”

 

…That’s a lie.

 

“Even if you don’t want me to, I will.”

 

Embarrassed and unsure how to respond to such a cheesy, unfamiliar line, I lowered my head. I didn’t know why, but I suddenly wanted to die.

 

I was grateful when Ugo saved me from the beggars’ den too. But I couldn’t say he ‘took care of’ me. We were just friends who relied on each other. We had a strong bond from our shared background, but as we received protection from Philia, we naturally drifted apart. Our futures had started to diverge—it was inevitable.

 

So unfair. He was a priest of the Holy God, but he tempted me like a devil. My reasoning told me not to trust him completely, to stay alert—but my heart had already surrendered. He’s making it impossible not to like him.

 

I hugged him tightly like a spoiled child. Ilya paused, seemingly unsure how to react, and awkwardly patted my back. It was a lukewarm, halfhearted comfort. But for me, it was the long-awaited arrival of spring.