Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

In the deepest recesses of a realm forsaken by time, the Dark Sovereign sat upon her throne of onyx and shadow, a figure of infinite malice and elegance. Her crimson skin glistened faintly in the eerie light emanating from the abyssal cracks of the chamber, and her fiery hair flowed like molten lava down her back. The spiraling black horns atop her head shimmered faintly as her golden eyes narrowed, fixed on the swirling pool of dark energy before her.

Within the depths of the pool, an image wavered into view: Liria Silverthorn.

The girl's mismatched eyes, one green and the other amber, burned with a faint defiance even as her body sagged with exhaustion. Her midnight-black hair framed her face like a shroud, and her expression was colder than the Sovereign remembered.

"Ah," the Dark Sovereign murmured, her lips curling into a smile that was equal parts maternal and malevolent. "My daughter. How beautifully you are unraveling."

Her voice, rich and velvety, echoed throughout the empty chamber, as though the darkness itself hung on her every word.

With a languid motion, she extended a hand toward the pool, her nails sharp and gleaming like obsidian. The surface rippled at her touch, and the image shifted, replaying moments from Liria's recent trials in the Shifting Labyrinth.

The Sovereign tilted her head as she watched her daughter's battles unfold. The black flames of the Shadowflare Blade. The defiant determination in her strikes. The cracks in her humanity growing wider with each passing confrontation.

"So strong," the Sovereign murmured, her tone almost affectionate. "Yet so fragile."

A deep chuckle resonated from the shadows behind her, and a voice, low and reverent, spoke. "Your Majesty, she grows more powerful by the day. The blood of the Sovereign flows true in her veins."

The Sovereign did not turn, though her smile deepened. "Yes. She is becoming what she was always meant to be."

"But she resists," the voice reminded her. "She clings to her mortal ideals, to her humanity. It slows the process."

The Sovereign finally turned her gaze from the pool, her golden eyes piercing through the darkness. "It does not matter. The resistance will crumble, as it always does. Humanity is fragile, fleeting. A spark in the void. And like all sparks, it will extinguish."

She stood from her throne, the motion slow and deliberate. Her black dress, shimmering like an eternal night sky, flowed around her as though it had a life of its own. The very air around her seemed to shudder in her presence, the oppressive weight of her power spreading outward.

"She has already begun to change," the Sovereign continued, her tone contemplative. "Her hair, her eyes, her demeanor. The more she wields the power I have given her, the more she becomes mine."

"But what if she discovers the truth?" the voice asked, cautious.

The Sovereign laughed, a sound both beautiful and terrifying. "She already knows. My daughter is clever she has seen the signs, felt the pull of her heritage. And yet, she chooses to pretend ignorance, as though that will shield her from what she is becoming."

She walked toward the edge of the pool, her reflection mingling with Liria's image. The resemblance was undeniable now, a fact that brought her equal measures of pride and possessiveness.

"I planted the seed long ago," the Sovereign said softly. "The moment her power awakened, it began. Every battle, every victory, every use of her flames we are connected. She cannot escape me, no matter how far she runs."

The shadows around the chamber stirred, forming vague, shifting shapes that seemed to bow before her.

"And what will you do when she resists further?" the voice pressed.

The Sovereign turned sharply, her eyes blazing. "Let her resist. Let her fight. It will make her fall all the sweeter."

For a moment, silence reigned in the chamber, the only sound the faint crackling of energy from the pool.

The Sovereign's expression softened not in kindness, but in calculation. "She is nearing the point of no return. Already, the people around her have noticed. They whisper of her coldness, her distance. They try to pull her back, but it is too late. The fire has already consumed her."

She reached out again, the pool shifting to reveal Daena speaking with Liria in her chamber. The former Demon Queen's concern was palpable, her protective instincts on full display.

"Daena," the Sovereign mused. "Ever the guardian. But even she cannot save my daughter from herself."

The pool shifted once more, showing a flash of Liria's battles, her black flames devouring her enemies with ruthless efficiency.

"Every time she uses her power," the Sovereign said, her voice growing softer, more intimate, "she comes closer to me. And soon, she will no longer need to pretend. She will embrace what she is, and when that day comes..."

She paused, her golden eyes glowing with an almost feverish intensity.

"She will stand by my side, as she was always meant to."

The shadows in the room seemed to swell, echoing her words with a silent, oppressive affirmation.

"And if she does not?" the voice dared to ask, though it trembled with the weight of its audacity.

The Sovereign's smile turned sharp, predatory. "Then I will remind her. I will show her the truth of this world. Of herself. And she will have no choice but to submit."

She turned back to the pool, her gaze fixed on Liria's image. The girl's flames flickered weakly in the vision, but her resolve burned brighter than ever.

The Sovereign's expression softened once more, this time with a twisted sort of pride. "Rest well, my daughter," she murmured, her voice carrying both warmth and menace. "For the path ahead will test you like never before. But know this you are mine. And nothing, not even your precious humanity, can change that."

The pool rippled one final time before going dark, the image of Liria fading into the void.

The Dark Sovereign turned away, her fiery hair trailing behind her like a living flame. As she returned to her throne, her steps deliberate and unhurried, the shadows in the chamber seemed to thicken. The oppressive air carried a sense of purpose, as though the very fabric of the void awaited her command.

Seated once more, she rested her chin on her hand, her golden eyes glowing with calculated intent. A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it was devoid of warmth. If Liria would not come willingly, then she would orchestrate her arrival with precision.

The Sovereign extended a hand, the air before her rippling as an ancient grimoire materialized in her grasp. The book's cover, bound in what appeared to be the hide of some long-extinct beast, pulsed faintly with an eerie crimson light. She opened it with a flick of her fingers, the pages flipping themselves as if eager to serve their master.

"Ah, here we are," she murmured, her gaze settling on a particular incantation written in a jagged, otherworldly script. Her fingers traced the symbols, and a faint hum of energy filled the room.

From the shadows, a figure emerged—a servant of the Sovereign, cloaked in black and featureless, its form a swirling mass of darkness. It knelt before her, its head bowed low.

"My Queen," the servant intoned, its voice a rasp that seemed to scrape against the edges of existence. "What is your will?"

The Sovereign's smile widened, though her gaze remained on the grimoire. "The time has come to begin the next phase," she said, her voice calm but brimming with authority. "I require a catalyst something to tip the scales. Something that will remind my daughter of where she truly belongs."

The servant raised its head slightly, though its form remained indistinct. "Shall we bring her to you by force, Your Majesty?"

"No," the Sovereign replied sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a blade. "Not yet. Force would only strengthen her resolve against me. She must come of her own accord—or at least believe she has."

The servant hesitated, then bowed again. "As you command, my Queen. What is it you require?"

The Sovereign's golden eyes flicked to the servant, a dangerous glint within them. "There is an artifact," she began, her voice low and deliberate. "The Core of the Sovereign Flame. It is a fragment of my own power, long hidden in the Wailing Caverns."

The servant nodded, though the faintest tremor rippled through its form. The Wailing Caverns were notorious, even among the Sovereign's most loyal followers, for their treacherous nature and the horrors that resided within.

"The Core will resonate with her," the Sovereign continued. "Its call will be impossible for her to ignore. She will seek it out, driven by curiosity, instinct... or desperation. And when she takes it, the connection between us will deepen. She will have no choice but to confront what she is."

The servant hesitated again, as though weighing the risk of questioning her. Finally, it spoke. "And if she resists even then?"

The Sovereign laughed softly, a sound both alluring and foreboding. "She can resist all she likes. The Core's power will seep into her veins regardless. Every step she takes, every breath she draws, will bring her closer to me. Resistance is nothing but a temporary distraction."

The servant nodded. "It shall be done. The artifact will be placed where she can find it."

"Good," the Sovereign said, closing the grimoire with a resounding thud. "But be cautious. Ensure the path to the Core is fraught with enough peril to test her. She must prove herself worthy, even if she does not yet understand what she is proving herself for."

The servant dissolved into the shadows without another word, leaving the Sovereign alone once more.

She leaned back in her throne, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. Her golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she envisioned the unfolding of her plan.

"Soon, my daughter," she murmured, her voice soft but heavy with anticipation. "Soon you will stand before me, not as a wayward child clinging to her humanity, but as the heir to my throne. The darkness will embrace you, as it was always meant to."

The room seemed to echo her words, the shadows pulsing with approval.

The Sovereign allowed herself a moment of quiet contemplation, her mind already racing ahead to the next steps. She knew Liria's spirit was strong perhaps even stronger than her own had been at that age but she also knew that strength was a double-edged sword. All it would take was the right push, the right crack in her armor, and the girl would fall.

And when she did, the Sovereign would be there to catch her.

With a wave of her hand, the pool of energy before her flickered back to life, showing Liria once more. The girl was alone in her chamber, her expression distant and her movements mechanical. The sight brought a smile to the Sovereign's lips a smile of triumph.

"Rest while you can, my child," she whispered. "The time for games is nearly over."