Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136: Only She Matters

[THE BEGINNING OF SEASON TWO]

[Imperial Palace...]

The air was too quiet.

Quiet like a graveyard. But not just any graveyard—a graveyard so cursed, even ghosts refused to linger. Even monsters feared to whisper.

The great Imperial Throne Room—once golden, radiant, filled with sunlight and power—was drowned in blood. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Not stained.

Drenched.

Blood coated the walls. The floor. The carved crest of the Empire was etched into the marble. Even the throne itself—the sacred seat of a thousand years of rule—was painted red like a warning from the gods.

Bodies lay strewn like broken constellations across the hall.

Maids. Servants. Nobles. Guards.

And at the center of it all... Marquess Everett and Caelum.

Their bodies were twisted, shattered in ways no human body should ever bend. They looked like dolls dropped from a great height—no grace, no dignity.

Just ruin.

Crimson pools shimmered around their feet, spreading slowly, greedily, like the palace floor itself was drinking death. Their eyes stared upward—empty. Forever locked on a ceiling that would never offer mercy again.

And in the middle of it all...

Kneeling.

Osric Valerius Everheart.

Barefoot. Bloodied.

A gash above his right eye was still weeping scarlet down his cheek. His knees dug into the marble, his hands limp at his sides.

But...he looked...hollow.

Like someone had carved the soul out of him and left only flesh behind. His body trembled—but not with fear.

No, there was no fear left. Just stillness.

Stillness so deep, it was almost inhuman. And standing before him—Emperor Cassius Devereux.

But this wasn’t a ruler. Not a father. Not a man.

This was a monster in royal skin.

Drenched in gore. Hands shaking from rage. Eyes so hollow, so red with grief and fury, they looked like voids cracked open. He was no longer human. He was lost. Vengeance. Wrath incarnate.

And he raised his sword.

Slow. Heavy. Shaking not from weakness—but from the effort it took to not strike immediately.

"You..." His voice was jagged iron. Barely human. "I trusted her to you."

Osric didn’t lift his head.

Cassius stepped closer, the blade gleaming under shattered sunlight.

"I gave her to you. My jewel. My pride. My daughter. And you—" His voice broke—just a flicker. "You dared to betray her for someone else."

The Emperor took a slow, seething step forward.

"You don’t deserve to live."

Osric finally raised his head. Slowly. Painfully. His lips were cracked. His hair, matted with blood, clung to his forehead like chains. There was no crown. No armor. No regal posture.

He didn’t look like the grand duke. Didn’t look like a commander. Didn’t even look like a man. He looked like a ghost wearing the shell of a boy.

A graveyard of what he used to be.

"I never wanted her to die..." His voice was dry—like it had been dragged through the dirt with him.

"I thought—" He faltered. "I thought I was freeing her... from me. I thought I was saving her from them."

A laugh escaped him, broken and bitter. Almost insane.

"But I failed her." A tremble. "I failed you."

He stared blankly at the blood beneath him.

"I should’ve swallowed the poison she was given. No. I should’ve run away before it began. I should’ve stood between her and everything that ever wanted to harm her, even if it meant... even if it meant losing myself."

His throat closed as the words caught fire in his lungs. "I should’ve protected her from the very beginning—"

Then—without warning—he lurched forward and gripped Cassius’s sword with his bare hand.

Blood trickled down his wrist.

But Osric didn’t even blink.

He pulled the blade toward his own throat.

"...You’re right, Your Majesty." His voice cracked, hollow and certain. "I really deserve to die."

He lifted his gaze—not defiant, but surrendered.

"And if there’s anything left of me worth damning..." His breath hitched. "Then let me offer it to her. All of it."

He knelt deeper, sword against skin.

"I only wish..." His voice trembled like a boy begging the stars. "I wish I could see her again. Just once. Just to kneel before her. Apologize. And... give her my soul."

Cassius stared down at him, eyes no longer belonging to a man. No warmth. No forgiveness. Only cold, red rage.

He raised the sword higher.

"If that ever happens..." The Emperor’s voice was low. Feral. "...I will make sure to crush that pathetic soul of yours myself."

The sword came down—

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[Osric’s POV]

[Everheart Estate—Dawn | Four Years After the Oath]

GASP.

Again.

Again.

The same dream. The same cursed images.

Why...why do I keep having those dreams...where I feel like losing her.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The door opened a second later, and in stepped my butler—an older man with silver-streaked hair and tired, kind eyes. Hadrien, loyal to House Everheart since before I could read.

Hair disheveled. Eyes dull. Shadows etched like bruises beneath them. A ghost wearing the name Osric Everheart.

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