Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

Liria awoke to silence. Not the comforting, muted quiet of a castle in slumber, nor the gentle hum of a world still stirring beneath the stars. This was something else entirely—an absence, a void, a silence so thick and unnatural that it pressed against her senses like a second skin.

She had grown used to it.

Three years had passed since she had broken the seal and pledged herself to the Dark Sovereign. Three years of training, of discipline, of reshaping herself into something more than she had ever thought possible.

She no longer slept in a warm chamber filled with silken sheets and flickering candlelight. No, her quarters were carved from the very abyss itself—dark stone that pulsed faintly with power, walls that shifted with the weight of magic older than time. The air here carried an ever-present hum, the echo of something ancient and waiting, something boundless and endless.

Liria stretched, rolling her shoulders as the weight of her own power settled in her limbs. She barely remembered the days when moving felt like effort. Now, her body was a weapon, forged in combat, tempered in battle.

Her morning routine had long since changed. There were no lazy stretches beneath a sunlit sky, no meals waiting for her in the grand halls of the demon castle. Here, she lived by the Sovereign's schedule.

She dressed swiftly—dark, form-fitting battle attire that allowed for speed and precision. The fabric shimmered slightly, woven with abyssal energy to withstand combat. Her sword rested against the wall, humming softly with latent power. She took it without hesitation.

She had no time to waste.

As she stepped outside, the abyss greeted her.

The landscape was a shifting mass of shadows and crimson light, an endless expanse of black stone and eerie mist. Above her, the sky was not a sky at all—just an infinite stretch of darkness broken by the occasional glimmer of something ancient moving in the void.

The Dark Sovereign's domain.

And she had become part of it.

Liria moved through the abyss with purpose, her steps sure, her presence commanding. Along the way, creatures stirred—beings of shadow and flame, forged from the Sovereign's will, some bowing as she passed, others watching with unreadable eyes. They recognized her now.

She was not their ruler.

But she was their future.

She arrived at the training grounds—an open space carved from the blackened stone, surrounded by jagged cliffs that pulsed with energy. Others were already there, warriors of the abyss, sparring with deadly precision. The air crackled with magic, the sound of blades clashing echoing through the space.

And at the center of it all, standing tall and regal, was her.

The Dark Sovereign.

Golden eyes flicked toward Liria the moment she arrived, a small, satisfied smirk curling her lips. "You're late."

Liria smirked back. "I'm exactly on time."

The Sovereign chuckled, stepping forward with effortless grace. "We'll work on your punctuality later. For now, show me how much stronger you've become."

Liria didn't hesitate. She lunged.

Their blades met in a clash that sent a shockwave rippling through the abyss, distorting the very air around them.

It was a routine now—a brutal, merciless exchange of steel and fire, of shadow and power. The Dark Sovereign never held back, and neither did Liria.

They fought as master and student.

As predator and heir.

Liria had stopped questioning whether she was meant to be here.

She had already decided.

This was home.

And she was just getting started.

Liria's sword moved like an extension of herself, its dark edge flashing through the abyssal air as she clashed against the Dark Sovereign. Their battle was no mere training session—it was a war contained within the confines of their battlefield, a constant test of her strength, skill, and control.

The Sovereign's golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she parried Liria's strike with a flick of her wrist, deflecting the blow effortlessly. "You hesitate," she remarked, her voice smooth as silk, laced with quiet amusement.

Liria gritted her teeth, pivoting to avoid the counterattack that came next. The moment her boots touched the black stone beneath her, she launched forward again, striking with even greater force. "I don't hesitate," she spat, the fire in her veins driving her onward.

A cruel chuckle. "Then prove it."

The air around them distorted as the Dark Sovereign raised a hand, summoning a wave of abyssal energy that crackled with violent intensity. Liria barely had time to react before the force struck her dead-on, sending her skidding across the battlefield.

She caught herself mid-air, twisting to land on her feet with feline agility. The impact left cracks in the black stone beneath her, but she ignored the sting in her muscles.

Three years ago, an attack like that would have left her unconscious.

Now?

It only fueled her.

Her body was no longer the fragile thing it had once been. It had been reforged, strengthened, molded into something greater. She could feel it in the way she moved, in the way power thrummed beneath her skin, waiting to be unleashed.

She clenched her fists, exhaling slowly.

The Dark Sovereign tilted her head, studying her. "You're stronger," she admitted. "But not strong enough."

Liria's smirk returned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The Sovereign flicked her fingers, and suddenly, the abyssal terrain beneath them shifted. Pillars of obsidian rose from the ground, jagged and unpredictable, warping the battlefield itself. The air crackled with shadowy flames, distorting the space between them.

A change in environment. A test.

Liria wasn't foolish enough to hesitate. She moved instantly, adapting to the shifting ground beneath her.

She dashed forward, her sword cloaked in black fire, her instincts sharper than ever. The battle wasn't just about brute force—it was about control, about precision.

And she was learning.

Their blades met again, and the force sent another shockwave through the abyss.

The creatures watching from the edges of the battlefield stirred, whispering amongst themselves, their glowing eyes fixed on Liria.

They had seen many challengers before. Many who had tried to stand beside their Sovereign.

None had lasted.

None had survived.

But Liria wasn't just another hopeful.

She was different.

She was meant for this.

A surge of energy coursed through her, and without warning, she shifted, her body moving faster than even she anticipated. A blur of shadow and flame, she bypassed the Sovereign's guard and landed a strike against her ribs.

It wasn't enough to wound.

But it was enough to land.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

The Sovereign paused, looking down at where Liria's blade had met her side. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"Good," she purred. "You're finally learning."

Liria's breathing was heavy, her muscles burning, but the exhilaration of victory—no matter how small—thrummed in her veins.

She had landed a hit.

A single strike against someone who was supposed to be untouchable.

It wasn't enough. Not yet.

But one day?

One day, she wouldn't just land a hit.

One day, she would win.

The Dark Sovereign lowered her weapon, stepping back. "That's enough for today."

Liria frowned, wiping sweat from her brow. "I can keep going."

"I have no doubt," the Sovereign said, her smirk widening. "But strength isn't just about knowing when to fight—it's about knowing when to stop."

Liria tensed but said nothing.

The Sovereign chuckled, turning away. "Rest, my dear. You'll need it."

As she disappeared into the shifting shadows of her domain, Liria remained standing in the battlefield, her sword still clutched in her grip.

She should have been exhausted.

Instead, she felt alive.

Powerful.

Unstoppable.

And as the abyss whispered around her, she knew one thing for certain she was just getting started.

Liria exhaled slowly, feeling the heat of battle still thrumming in her veins. The battlefield around her was eerily silent now, save for the distant whispers of the abyssal creatures lurking in the shadows. She could feel their eyes on her, their silent appraisal of what she had just done.

A single strike.

A small victory.

But victories, no matter how minor, were still victories. Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

She lowered her sword, rolling her shoulders as the tension in her muscles settled. The Sovereign's words still echoed in her mind.

"Strength isn't just about knowing when to fight—it's about knowing when to stop."

Liria scowled. "Cryptic as always," she muttered, stretching out her arms. She hated stopping. She hated slowing down. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to keep going, to push further, to break past whatever limits remained.

Because there were still limits.

She could feel them like chains wrapped around her wrists—thin, fragile, but still there.

And she hated them.

She turned her gaze toward the abyss, watching as the shadows swirled like living smoke. The Sovereign had already left, slipping away into the depths of her domain. Liria would follow soon. But for now, she lingered.

The creatures watching her didn't move, didn't stir.

It wasn't fear that kept them still.

It was recognition.

Respect.

Liria smirked. "That's right," she muttered under her breath, letting her sword dissolve into embers. "Get used to it."

Then, without another word, she turned and strode toward the darkness, disappearing into the abyssal realm she now called home.