Yandere Villainess Will Die!

The statue woman seemed to possess some level of intelligence, as she walked over to Leonidas, each step thundering in the sudden silence that had blanketed the forest after Toothpick’s death.

Her hands—larger than his mangled body—grabbed him by the waist, viscous blood flowing down the immense length of her ashen arm, an unseen hand painting in crimson.

She lifted Leonidas with ease, but with a delicacy he would not have imagined from a being of her stature. Physically and literally. She was strong enough to crush him into pulp with a single movement, yet she handled him better than most humans would have.

Such control over her body...truly fascinating.

Leonidas shook his head, his love for the unknown sparking. It had been the same the last time he had been in such an unexpected situation—back when he had found himself in the dark void with Art.

The woman walked back over to the Sanctum of Sacrifice, shaking the very planet with each step. Her hands held steady, embracing Leonidas like a protective shell, much sturdier than the ruby shell he had made for himself.

He moved a little, adjusting himself to better fit...it was hard without legs and an arm, but he managed. Throughout the process, Leonidas felt no pain. In fact, he had stopped feeling...anything as soon as the battle between the two Superus had concluded.

Haha...I’m dying.

Leonidas wheezed at the thought, lightheaded, but extremely happy. His emotions were a mess, twisted, a tangle where happiness emerged victorious.

His mind felt leaden, as if something oppressive was consciously pushing down on it, trying to dampen his thinking.

Probably the exhaustion.

Leonidas wagered it was just the blood loss and side effects of constantly staying on high alert, catching up.

His mood changed again, a silly smile replacing his previous thoughtful look.

"Hey, miss, put me down, will you? We’re already at the temple." His voice was cheerful, almost giggly, like a teenage girl who met her celebrity crush. Hell, if he had legs, he would have probably been jumping around in impatience.

As if fate dictated he had been happy for long enough, his face changed again. A mask of stone carved his features, eyes glazed over, expression suddenly fearsome.

Leonidas slammed his head hard against the stone embrace of the fearsome knight, but he felt nothing except the slow drizzle of blood.

What the hell is happening to me?

Leonidas wasn’t blind to his situation; his mood swings were weird, even by his standards.

This definitely isn’t just blood loss.

The only other explanation would be the Sanctum of Sacrifice, whose entrance and pavilion stood directly below him. He had already established that it was affecting his body...after all, he hadn’t bled to death yet, but was it also affecting his emotions?

How ugly.

Truly, how ugly it was, both his powerlessness and damned odds surrounding him like a cold mantle...not that he could feel the cold.

The statue woman lowered herself, knees touching the polished black marble of the pavilion, and opened her hands. She picked at the edge of Leonidas’s shirt and pulled him. She held him like one would a toy.

How utterly humiliating.

God damn this statue and temple.

His pride pricked like a cactus, but Leonidas held it in. He did not know if his words or actions would antagonize the statue, and he certainly couldn’t afford to test.

They were his lifeline after all.

His face morphed, an illuminating smile gushing on his gaunt features.

"Now I don’t know if you understand me, dear maiden...but would you kindly let me down?"

And what did he know, the statue woman actually obliged! Her body bubbled like filthy water being heated, her entire being shaking with the fury of a mad goddess, only the arm that held Leonidas remained steady.

Now this...is unexpected.

Statue woman had started shrinking, now standing at 3 meters, insanely tall for a human, but much shorter than her previous gigantic height.

The doors of the Sanctum opened with a haunting creak, the sound both mystical and pleasant to the ears, entirely out of place in the hellish jungle.

Statue woman, whom Leonidas had named Savior...since she saved him, walked through the open doors without hesitation, each step measured, ringing against the marble floor.

Leonidas glanced behind him to see the doors closing, the palid light that illuminated the vast battlefield vanishing into darkness.

A resounding thud echoed across the room, and the walls burst into flame. Hundreds of torches lined the walls, their orange flame tinged slightly with blue, giving the chamber an infernal look.

The chamber itself wasn’t anything impressive, just a massive open room, with gnarled roots hanging from the ceiling, a phantasmal fruit growing on them.

Seeing food for the first time in forever, Leonidas’s stomach rumbled. Savior regarded him for a second, her onyx eyes boring into him.

She reminds me of Willow...especially that dismissive attitude.

Leonidas smiled at the thought. He was really missing his rude companion. Savior walked forward for a little while longer, then gently placed Leonidas against one of the many pillars lining the chamber.

She reached above, plucked two fruits from the roots, and offered one to Leonidas.

Should I eat this...

He hesitated because while the stone woman had saved him from certain death, she was still a stranger. But...what could he do?

He was hungry, tired beyond measure, in pain so excruciating it had made him unable to feel anything. His legs were gone, every pore in his body was bleeding like a broken tap.

All in all, he was in no state to reject anything. Despite that, his hand hovered over the fruit...but he still didn’t grab it.

I am too paranoid.

But for good reason, it was better than being stabbed in the back. Savior stared at him for a long moment, his indecisiveness seeming to annoy her, so she decided to act for herself.

She unsheathed her sword, an impressive blade bigger than Leonidas’s body, completely black, like the night sky. It too reminded him of Willow’s own blade, Smooth Criminal.

Savior held the blade in reverse grip and cut her arm. Immediately, blood welled up, a mixture of black and crimson. Just by looking at it, Leonidas could tell it was different from normal blood, thicker and denser, probably purer too.

Savior put her sword away, then shoved her arm in front of Leonidas’s face.

Ahh...what do I do?

He was genuinely confused, and Savior-god bless that woman—gave him an answer.

Her finger, covered in a black gauntlet, pointed towards the scratch, then the fruit she was offering Leonidas.

Savior ate the fruit, and almost instantly, the cut on her arm started stitching, as if an invisible doctor was working on it.

She extended her hand again, and this time Leonidas took the fruit.