Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 336

Chapter 336: Echoes of Astryeon

[Lavinia’s POV—Elorian Camp—Night]

The war ground still stank of blood.

Corpse smoke drifted through the air in gray ribbons, curling around tents, soaking into armor, and sinking into skin. The moon hung dull and uncaring above us, casting silver light over the battlefield that would rot by morning.

I sat outside my command tent—one leg crossed over the other, Marshi resting his massive head on my lap as I stroked him absently.

Behind me stood Haldor, Arwin, Zerith, and Osric—silent pillars of loyalty, their armor still caked in drying blood.

Before me, a man kneeled.

Chains bound his wrists, digging into skin already bruised from battle. He was battered, breathing hard... But his eyes were steady.

General Luke of Meren.

The Iron Wall.

No longer standing. Merely kneeling. Exactly where he belonged. I tilted my head, studying him like one studies a puzzle not worth solving.

"So," I began softly—too softly, the kind of softness that made men tremble, "what do you say now, General?"

My fingers tapped Marshi’s skull rhythmically.

"How would you like to die?"

Luke lifted his head slowly. His lip was split. His armor shattered. Blood stained the chains around him.

Yet he smiled.

"A general," he said calmly, "does not choose his death."

He held my gaze without fear.

"You may kill me however you wish. The day the prince attacked your borders... I knew this end would come."

Arwin shifted behind me with irritation. Zerith’s jaw clenched. But Luke’s eyes did not go to them.

They stayed on me.

Unwavering.

Cold.

Accepting.

I hummed lightly, stroking Marshi’s ear. "You pity your soldiers, then? Or yourself?"

"I pity," Luke said, voice steady, "that I served fools."

I smirked. "Good. You should."

His gaze flickered—not with defiance, but with something else.

Regret.

"And I pity," he added, "that I met you as an enemy..."

"Hmmm..." I leaned forward, the firelight catching on my blood-streaked cheek. "But I am curious."

I rose slowly to my feet, brushing my cloak aside. Marshi growled, feeling the shift in my posture. I stepped close enough that Luke had to tilt his chin up to keep my eyes.

"You are not from Meren," I said. "Your aura, your discipline, your swordsmanship... they do not belong to this chaotic kingdom."

Luke lowered his gaze, but only slightly.

"I heard," I continued, voice dropping into a dangerous purr, "that you come from the Sanctum of Astryeon."

A faint murmur rippled among my commanders. I watched Luke closely—and I saw it.

The flicker.

The twitch.

The shift.

So small anyone else would miss it.

But not me.

"So tell me, General," I said, circling him slowly, my steps echoing around his chains. "Why would a man from a holy kingdom of blessed warriors... fall so low as to serve a child prince of Meren?"

His shoulders tightened. His breath slipped—barely a sound but unmistakably shaken.

Luke didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze slid—slowly, almost unwillingly—toward Haldor.

Then down.

Avoiding my eyes entirely.

I stopped walking.

My voice sharpened—soft, but lethal.

"I see." I stepped closer until my shadow swallowed him. "You did not leave Astryeon willingly, am I right?"

His breath hitched.

A tiny reaction. A crack in the Iron Wall. He raised his head and met my gaze—not defiant, not broken...something else.

"Princess..." he said quietly. "I apologize, but..."

His eyes flicked toward Haldor again. And then he held my stare.

"...it is not your concern."

The air shifted.

Haldor’s fist clenched so hard I heard his gauntlet creak. He stepped forward, voice dangerously calm—but trembling at the edges.

"Princess," Haldor said, bowing his head slightly but never looking away from Luke. "Give me the order, and I will kill him immediately."

His tone was ice.Protective.Possessive.Threatening.

Luke’s lips curled into a faint, faint smile—as if Haldor’s reaction confirmed something he already suspected.

I crouched down to his level, eyes inches from his.

"And you," I said, rising, letting my shadow fall over him, "will tell me why a man of Astryeon kneels in chains on my soil—"

My gaze slid to Haldor for a heartbeat. Just enough to watch both of them flinch.

"—and why you chose to abandon the holy kingdom of Astryeon."

Luke’s eyes dropped.His jaw clenched.Silence wrapped around his throat like a blade.

A flinch.

A refusal.

An answer in itself.

I straightened fully, red cloak brushing the ground like spilled blood.

"Put him behind the cage," I ordered coldly, turning away. "Until I sit on the Meren throne and kill the emperor."

"Because... I cannot afford to lose you too."

Something I was not ready to hold.

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