Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Despite the deafening impact, the Demonic Tribe member’s head remained intact, so we dragged him to a chair.
Preemptively restraining his limbs with ropes and chains in case he attempted to flex his brawn and escape.

In the distant past,
when I had remained behind amidst the burning factory, this had seemed the sole viable path.

“Rather anticlimactic, isn’t it?”

“We made such extensive preparations, so of course it would be.”

Objectively speaking, the man in the white suit had fought well. Had he intended it, he could have orchestrated a grisly massacre in the slums.

And yet, his defeat was clear.
Any human would have meekly surrendered if some freak kicked down their door and demanded a fight after pumping their limbs full of five bullets.

Conversely, this meant capturing him alive had been possible.

For this moment, Freugne had run countless future simulations.
Time and again, the futures she foresaw ended in failure – whether the Londinium police routinely boasting “Only we can shoot with such precision!” or the elite task force comprised of Circe and Ulr.

So the opponent’s loss was inevitable.
In live combat, notions of fairness held no relevance. Preparedness itself was a skill and strength.

Even as the extensive precautions could have restrained an elephant, the Demonic Tribe member remained unconscious until Ulr slapped him awake.

After swiftly surveying his surroundings to assess the situation, the Demonic Tribe member muttered,

“Heh, so escaping was never an option, was it?”

“I have a few questions.”

“Very well, ask away.”

Despite his roughly bandaged wounds and ragged breathing, the Demonic Tribe member surprisingly responded compliantly.

“When you first approached me back then, why did you single me out? And why me specifically?”

“That, you ask? Had I known it would come to this, I should have simply killed you then and there.”

“But you couldn’t, because someone was destined to come to my rescue, contrary to what you were told.”

“No, until recently, your life hung by the mercy of another.”

Letting out an unpleasant chuckle at some private amusement, he spoke:

“The Lord values your talents highly.”

“The Lord?”

It was Ulr who provided the answer, hefting the sledgehammer onto his shoulder while remaining vigilant in case the Demonic Tribe member attempted any magic.

“When we’ve captured and interrogated your kind, they’ve consistently mentioned the Dark Lord plotting something.”

“You mean you weren’t trying to kill me?”

“The last time we met, heh. Didn’t I tell you this?”

Freugne clearly recalled those words.
On that fateful day when she had ventured outside, the Demonic Tribe member awaiting her had said:

‘Is this a threat, implying harm if I refuse?’
‘No, rather a persuasion. A persuasion for you to join our cause.’

So that was the implication.
A literal temptation to betray humanity and defect to the Demonic Tribe.

“However, contrary to the Lord’s intent, there are hardliners who advocate uprooting you entirely.”

“And you think you could dispose of me so easily?”

“You will struggle now, I acknowledge.”

The Demonic Tribe member spat out a glob of bluish-tinged spittle before continuing,

“But what of the one you cherish so dearly?”

“…Are you threatening the people around me?”

“You’re the one who left me no other choice but this, so what do you expect me to do?”

Demons are not beings who block all paths before commanding death.
They are entities that dangle a handful of seemingly gracious lifelines while tempting you with the notion that the accompanying costs are trivial.

“However, if you surrender obediently, the terms change. The complete safety of the humans you’ve chosen is assured, and I can guarantee prosperous lives for them all.”

“And why should I believe that?”

“You have no choice but to believe, for if you can glimpse the future, you must know what looms between humans and the Demonic Tribe soon?”

“……”

“So you are aware.”

War.
A war that would consume even Londinium in flames.
If the city spearheading human industry and magic would suffer such a fate, then other regions were doomed.

“For the Dark Lord’s victory, you must be eliminated first. Even amidst your futile struggles, to minimize casualties among my kin.”

Having finished speaking, the Demonic Tribe member slightly parted his lips.

The futures Freugne had witnessed: once right before entering through that door, twice amid the fray.

“Block him.”

“Got it.”

-Urrghh!

And finally, after rendering the Demonic Tribe member unconscious.

With him restrained, eliminating all variables, she had peered into this exact moment to secure victory.
Despite being privy to every question and answer from their prior exchange, Freugne had intentionally played along.

Belatedly realizing this, the Demonic Tribe member’s eyes widened slightly, but Ulr, who had merely awaited the signal, was swifter.

Ulr ruthlessly shoved his cloth-wrapped hand into the Demonic Tribe member’s mouth, either knocking out a few teeth as he instinctively bit down or forcing him to swallow the poison he had been concealing.
No matter how formidable, the Demonic Tribe member could only helplessly succumb to the fate Freugne had meticulously engineered.

However, there were fates even she could not arbitrarily reshape.

“Take him away and extract more information.”

-Urrgghh!!

“Seems we have our work cut out for us.”

Ulr dragged the Demonic Tribe member into the dimly lit alleyway.
Circe circled the visibly fatigued Freugne before extending a supportive arm.

Physically and mentally drained, Freugne leaned on her for the slow journey home.

Glimpsing the future was limited to four times.
Still, straining to appear unaffected, Freugne managed to walk all the way back.

“I’m alright now. Thank you for escorting me.”

“Ah, no problem. See you tomorrow….!”

Pretending to leave, Circe peeked out from behind some bushes, ensuring Freugne’s safe return until the very end.
To send her off to rest, Freugne first had to reciprocate that gesture.

Freugne entered the brightly lit house.

“I’m back.”

“You worked hard today. Here, I made you a snack.”

“Ah, thank you……”

Verifying the menu, Freugne was reassured this was no illusion.

“Did anything happen at school today?”

“No. Ah, come to think of it, Arnold was running in the hallway and broke a window. The teacher was absolutely furious…”

While their conversation was not the most ideal, it soothed her mind.
Perhaps due to fatigue, she felt an uncharacteristic desire to remain intoxicated by this comfort indefinitely.

‘…But I cannot.’

One could not remain trapped in dreams forever.
Having calmly recounted the day’s events over spoonfuls of dessert, Freugne momentarily observed Edan objectively.

In his thirties, still considered young for a Royal Academy member, he was a successful magician and affluent.
He also possessed the qualities of a capable entrepreneur.

Had he not been her guardian, she might have attempted to recruit him into the organization long ago, like the other magicians.
By now, he could have ascended to a leadership role akin to the Earl of Norton or Superintendent Baldor, spearheading the organization’s operations. Integrating him into her plans would undoubtedly streamline its management.

And yet, the reason she had concealed the truth from Edan until the end was:

‘To let him regard me as a pure, innocent child?’

While partially true, the precise reason was fear.

Fear that if he learned the truth, he might oppose her perilous endeavors, view her as devious and avoid her, deem her too different from the child he knew and leave.
Humans instinctively shunned the unfamiliar. If she became that for Edan, it would devastate her. Immensely.

‘Should I tell him?’

Whenever such thoughts arose, she would shake her head and postpone it, as always.

Moreover, revealing her secrets and the future could not be reduced to merely divulging trade secrets.
From her perspective, operating the organization hinged upon these secrets akin to a lifeline.
Confiding everything would be tantamount to relinquishing all into his hands.

She did not regret becoming Londinium’s – the Glassgow Kingdom’s – dark underbelly.
For had she chosen to remain an ignorant child, she would have been powerlessly overwhelmed the moment the Demonic Tribe invaded, eyes wide open.

So if Londinium was fated to fall to the Demonic Tribe,
if such a future awaited her, was she truly prepared to meekly perish alongside Edan?

‘…Of course not.’

She yearned to live, even a sliver of a life, however narrow.
She did not wish to relinquish this hard-won peaceful, fulfilling existence.

For she was a greedy soul.
A selfish child unwilling to release anything once grasped tightly.
Only now did Freugne comprehend the futures she had witnessed, no matter how frequently revisited – the persistent ‘join me’ proposal she had vehemently urged upon Edan.