Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 253

Chapter 253: Verdelune’s Verdict

[Lavinia’s POV — Blue Stone Mountain—Village Verdelune]

This is the biggest corruption of the century.

For a beat the world held its breath.

The birds stopped mid-song, heads cocked—nature pausing as if the world itself inhaled. The mountain glowed—no, it throbbed—with a light that was neither sunlight nor moonlight but something older, as if the earth had opened a vein and let an ancient god bleed. Jagged streaks of blue ran across its flank like lightning caught mid-scream, pulsing faintly, humming with power older than any crown, brighter than gold, and far deadlier than any blade.

My breath fogged the crisp air. My chest tightened until it felt as if steel corsets had been cinched around it. I should have known. I should have felt it. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the Blue Magic Stones—those myth-wrought gems, rarer than emperors’ promises, more expensive than a war.

"...Am I hallucinating, or is that the—" I let the words fall between us like a blade.

Sera stared at the mountain, eyes wide, voice a whisper of disbelief. "I think I’m hallucinating too, Your Highness."

"Hahaha...wow..." I let out a short, cruel laugh. It tasted like iron. "I must say...this is what we call a genuine surprise."

I turned my gaze to the village head—his gaudy gold catching the blue like a lie pretending to shine honestly. "You were impressive, village head," I said, voice syrup-sweet with contempt. "I assumed corruption would be limited to greedy nobles. I didn’t expect a man of your girth to out-belly them all."

He went pale. Knees wobbling, he dropped to one. "Your—Your Highness, it’s not what you think—"

A single finger lifted. Cut him off. "Shut up," I snapped. The word was steel. "Before I slit your throat and let your lies choke you."

He flinched. The villagers recoiled; some covered their mouths, others lowered their heads. But none of them moved to stop me.

I raised my voice, deliberate and commanding. "SEIZE THIS MOUNTAIN! No one is to set foot within ten paces of that wall. No one at all—except the head of this village."

Eyes widened. Kalix blinked, confused, a smirk flickering across his lips before it vanished at my gaze. The village head’s face crumpled into supplication. "Thank you, Your Highness—thank you, I—"

I cut him off. "I said village head, not you, belly-man."

He froze, confusion and fear warring on his features. "What—?"

Then my gaze landed on Kalix. "Kalix—how old are you?"

He blinked, startled. "I turned sixteen this year, Your Highness."

"Then I appoint you Village Head, here and now." The words were a decree. "From this moment, every decision for Verdelune falls to you."

A stunned silence followed, then a ripple of relief spread across the villagers’ faces like sun breaking through clouds. Kalix’s jaw slackened; he pressed his fingers into the dirt in disbelief before folding into a deep, reverent bow. "Thank you—Your Highness. I won’t fail you."

"Do not disappoint me," I said, cold as the mountain’s shadow. "This is not charity. This is responsibility. Remember that."

He bowed again, eyes wet but steady. Around us, the villagers murmured—some even smiling. Their small upticks of relief told me more about their suffering than any ledger ever could.

I extended a hand toward Sir Haldor. "Sword."

Everyone flinched. Sir Haldor obeyed instantly, striding forward with steel in his hands like a priest with sacrament.

I took the sword he offered, the hilt solid, the steel catching the reflected blue light, and stepped toward the belly-man.

"Your Highness...mercy! Mercy, please!" he stammered.

"You," I said, voice low and measured, "brought both riches and misery to this village. You stole from mouths that should have eaten and hoarded power that should have protected. And now you beg for mercy?"

"Please...a second chance! I was greedy—I—"

"A second chance?" I leveled the tip of the sword at his belly, savoring his shrink under the steel. "Look at the faces around you. Look at the lines of fear your greed etched into their lives. This village fed you. You fed only yourself. You were the winner in the corruption race—gold medals for treachery, bronze for betrayal. I should reward you. I shall reward you fittingly."

My blade rose.

SLASH!

The strike was not poetic—it was necessary. The world took its measure of him—and then he was gone. Blood blossomed across my dress. For a heartbeat I watched the slow, clinical arc of it. No one flinched. Not Sera. Not my knights. Most importantly, not the villagers.

They smiled.

Sharp relief radiated from them like a tangible thing—you could taste how much they had suffered under taxes, false charity, and tyranny. Their smiles were explosions: a boy’s unchained laugh, an old woman’s relieved sob held behind her teeth. Justice, as I delivered it, tasted like a feast.

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