Fated to Be Loved by Villains

There were always people born under lucky stars; people who’d easily succeed in whatever they do.

As one of those people, Eleanor found her current situation perplexing.

“—Hmm.”

In Eleanor Elinalise La Tristan’s life, she could count the amount of hardships she experienced in one hand.

She could quickly overcome any obstacle that she had to face, and the only times she felt nervous over something was when she first proposed to Dowd. Even so, she overcame that in the end.

“As expected, it’s me, heh. Guess only I can take myself down.”

[…]

Nearby, the translucent gray fella that always stuck at her side stared at her with contemptuous eyes.

While straight-up communication was impossible, she often appeared like this to communicate with her, albeit non-verbally.

“If you’re not going to help, could you at least stop staring at me with that annoying expression?”

[…]

“What? If you have something to complain about, spit it out.

[…]

Of course, at this point Eleanor was somewhat accustomed to her behavior and could speak bluntly at her without consequences.

Although she still found it annoying that the punk was so stubborn and just refused to speak to her despite all that.

—Anyway.

Eleanor frowned as she looked ahead.

Despite her words, the fact that she went as far as asking the gray punk for ‘help’ meant that the enemy in front of her was formidable.

“-”

It was a figure that looked identical to her—staring at her blankly with the same stance and the same sword in her hand.

Even the Gray Aura protruding from its body was the same.

Nothing’s working.

Even all of her Demonic Aura-powered ‘abilities’ could be used by her opponent as well

How is that possible?

Although she wasn’t well-versed in Devil-related knowledge, she knew damn well her abilities weren’t something that could easily be imitated.

And yet, her opponent did it effortlessly.

As if it knew all there was to know about them.

“…”

Although it wasn’t without flaws.

Upon closer inspection, the imitation wasn’t perfect.

There were obvious flaws in how it ‘spoke’ or ‘acted’ like her, as if those functions were stripped away for efficiency.

But…

In terms of combat output in this give-and take fight, its prowess was completely equal to hers.

But that wasn’t all.

—It’s not depleting.

She could feel her Demonic Aura output decreasing bit by bit.

In contrast, the doppelganger’s output didn’t seem to waver at all.

While the flaws she had observed might offer her a strategic advantage, if things were progressing at the current rate, her defeat was inevitable.

What do I do…?

She closed her eyes, racking her brain.

Fleeing wasn’t an option. Everytime she tried to do that, it’d chase after her aggressively. She had done this multiple times already.

She could try to win, but how could she win against such a perfectly matched opponent?

I need to get stronger right now.

She knew it was an absurd thought. One couldn’t just get stronger at a moment’s notice.

Unless something like a sudden enlightenment occurred—

“…?”

As Eleanor was thinking as such.

Something suddenly fell into her field of vision.

When she saw what it was…

“…”

Her consciousness blacked out in an instant.

●

Meanwhile there were people watching this situation unfolding from afar.

“…What the hell is that guy doing?”

Talker asked in a dumbfounded voice as he observed the image before him.

Currently, he was watching what Dowd Campbell was doing, but he didn’t understand what he was even trying to do.

Originally, he wanted to see how this man—who couldn’t even untie the ropes that was binding him unless he was in an ‘emergency situation’—would handle this predicament

But then, he started banging his head against the floor to draw blood, then carefully smear it all over his clothing.

Then he sent one piece of it to each of the Devil Vessels’ locations.

He knew the man could use Divine Power to some degree, so he thought that he probably used that to accomplish such a thing.

To Talker, his action was too pathetic to even bother with.

It was hard for him to believe that this man—who was in his underwear, wearing a dazed expression as blood trickled down his forehead—was the man who had ascended to become a Devil on his own.

“Blood-stained clothing? What can he even do with that?”

Hearing Talker’s words, the Prophet let out a chuckle.

“Well, he’s probably trying to make them think that I harmed him.”

“…Any sane person would just ignore that, no?”

“If they’re sane, they wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“…”

She got a point.

The reason why they were easily lured into this obvious trap was because of their tendency to rush in recklessly when it came to matters related to Dowd Campbell, after all.

“You still don’t get it huh, Talker.”

The Prophet continued as she stared at the scene with a cryptic gaze.

“That reckless tendency of them to charge in headlong when it comes to Mr. Dowd is exactly the thing we should worry about.”

“…What?” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

“I already knew what moves Mr. Dowd might use against me, and he probably already guessed that I knew, so the variables we can bring when we clash against each other are limited.”

That was why she called it testing the water.

Since they knew each other’s tendencies, all conventional strategies became meaningless.

In such a situation, to land an effective move on each other, they needed ‘trump cards’ they both somewhat knew about. The whole point was to examine those cards.

While the Prophet specialized in containing and controlling Devils…

Dowd, on the other hand, relied on the ‘bonds’ he forged with them.

For instance…

The sheer, instantaneous power they could gain when they hear a mere ‘hint’ that his life might be in danger.

“…So, are you saying that his method will actually work?”

“Yes.”

The spell the Vessels were trapped in was far more dangerous than expected.

Then again, it was a spell that both Talker and the Prophet spent months to prepare, layering ancient spells and the highest incantation into a multi-layer trap.

The effort and resources expended were astronomical, but the result—a prison that even Devil Vessels couldn’t escape from—justified the cost.

And yet…

The idea that something so formidable was about to be shattered by the mere sight of some blood-stained clothes was inconceivable.

-…

Before that thought could sink in…

It was interrupted by a sudden ‘crunch’ on the ground.

“…?”

Spinning Fire Wheel looked down on the floor he was standing on with a blank expression.

This place was quite far from the fortress that those Devil Vessels were trapped in.

Even by carriage, it would take at least several days to travel that distance.

Ordinary high-level spells couldn’t cover such a wide area.

But, for some reason…

Whatever it was that was happening there reached all the way—

————!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At that moment, the image before Spinning Fire Wheel exploded as Demonic Auras of all sorts of colors surged forward.

“…”

Though old and dilapidated…

The sight of a fortress at the size of a mountain being utterly obliterated was still quite a spectacle.

Especially considering just a moment ago, the Devil’s Vessels were struggling to escape.

And it didn’t end there.

“Boss.”

“Yeah?”

“…Is all this chaos happening just from Demonic Aura ‘release’?”

“Looks like it?”

The atmosphere ignited, More than that, it was torn apart. A hole opened in the sky. The ground disintegrated. All life within several kilometers was annihilated. The image was filled with an overwhelming display of violence that seemed to reduce the very cycle of existence and life to nothingness.

And, from the center of all this chaos came roars: the Devil Vessels were screaming in unison.

“““““COME OUT RIGHT NOW, YOU FUCKING BITCHHHH—!””””””

“—Whew.”

The Prophet whistled at the murderous chorus that he could feel even through the image.

…At this rate, they might end up killing themselves.

Talker, who was watching this spectacle, couldn’t help but having such thoughts.

***

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