Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 272: A Tragedy Already Written

The bastard began to laugh his ass off, enjoying the look on Malik's face.

"What do you—"

"Why do you remember me still? You love me more than her, eh? Ahahahhahahaha—of course—of course you do!"

"..."

Malik didn't respond, not at all understanding what had him so giddy.

"Sorry, but I don't swing that way, you knoooooow~. I've got four wives! And please, keep your preferences on the down low; you don't wanna get hunted down by some fanatics, yeah?"

After staring at him for a few long moments, Malik ignored all that he said and stated:

"You said you needed to stay here 'to ensure.'"

"Mhm."

"This was it."

"Yup."

Malik didn't move, but something in the air cracked.

Though he didn't quite understand what had gotten him so worked up, his will began to drown the room, dimming the natural light within, his presence too heavy for the space to hold.

Cyrus, not caring for that at all, took a long sip of his tea.

"Please don't wreck my place. I get it; you're on a high now."

His pink eyes reflected a mist of dark red Aether.

"You just ranked up, and you want to release all that energy, that Aether. But control yourself, yeah? Unlike those outside, I don't see your little show as something to admire..."

His voice dropped a whole octave.

"I see it as a threat, understand?"

"..."

Malik didn't care to reply, waiting for his unasked question to be answered.

"She's a big girl now."

And it was.

"Second sub-rank, same as you, no? She'll be fine. Honestly, I thought you'd be less upset about it... I meeeeeeaaan, it's not like you planned to marry your little sister, so isn't it fine if she got married before you? Or are you really into inceeeeest~? I get it, I get it, though, incest is—"

Malik's frown deepened, pausing Cyrus's dip into utter insanity.

"That's not marriage. You're selling her like cattle."

"Political cattle."

Cyrus corrected.

"That makes it fancier."

Malik's hands curled into fists, about to lash out, but Cyrus raised a hand in mock surrender, stopping him.

"Listen, listen, listen. It's not like I'm tossing her into a pit of snakes. The guy's decent. Young, rich, military bloodline. She gets a title, land, fancy dinners, and probably a lot of gold. You know. The dream."

"..."

Malik, again, didn't respond.

He just stared.

And kept staring.

Cyrus's smile twitched.

"I mean, if you care thaaaaaaaat much... you could always ask her to turn it down and leave with you. Elope, ya dig? I won't stop her. You think I'd stop her? I won't. I really won't. Buuuuuuuut~... I also won't stop my war council from kidnapping her so she'd get to go on a picnic with her brothers, if you catch my meaning."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Silence.

His smile was lost.

"I'm giving her a way out, kid. You think this is about control? It's about protection. You've seen the world. You know what's coming. If she won't be the next Sultan, she has to be something, and this something is better than all the others."

"..."

"..."

"..."

More silence.

"She either gets married into power or dies without it."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Still nothing.

Cyrus's gaze hardened.

"So, which one is it, Malik? Gonna burn the world? Gonna swing that Spine Breaker around and crush every name tied to hers? Go ahead. I'll EVEN let you."

Malik's eyes lowered.

"...I'll talk to her."

He turned and walked out without another word.

***

{Outside The Projection}

"So that's it?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"That's it."

There was nothing much to say.

The crowd was mostly confused about what to feel.

At least regarding Malik himself, the Former Sultan not so much.

"This bastard..."

"Fucking Cyrus…"

The name alone dripped with venom now.

He was one Hell of a character, but he sure was annoying.

If it were anyone other than Malik, they'd have gone ballistic already.

That, they were sure of.

But yeah, no one said anything about Malik.

Because they didn't know what to say.

He looked… different.

No—he was different.

Not just stronger.

Not even just better or more divine.

He was something else, a new man.

"I almost bowed... I swear to God, I almost bowed."

"You and me both."

His presence on that walk through the palace wasn't something they had seen on him before now.

Sure, his frame, his demeanor, impossible actions, and, most importantly, his eyes reminded them of who they knew, but this? It was way more than that.

Back straight. Shoulders square. Gaze like a blade.

Footsteps that nearly shook the ground.

A Will that fell heavy on those around him.

No one could deny it: he looked like the Sultan.

He looked like their Malik, the one who massacred, the one who walked on oceans of blood and fire.

They'd all seen those people bow—soldiers, servants, nobles, even that general. But it wasn't just obedience. It was awe. Fear. Reverence. And the longer they stared at that memory, the more they felt it too.

That brightness Malik had was too much.

His face had gotten even more handsome, his muscles bulged, and his aura differed; before he appeared muted, dark, but now he was bright, gold, overwhelming.

It was tragic.

But the tragedy wasn't in what they believed he became.

It was in what he himself didn't see, for even if his self-worth stabilized, his struggle in dealing with himself remained, his character a tough one to analyze.

At least from his perspective.

But others? It was easy.

Malik didn't even react when they bowed.

He didn't look surprised. Didn't slow down. He just walked.

It was then that those people realized he truly was what they bowed to.

Even if it had killed him, it was no lie to say that Cyrus had chosen right.

It was a weird thought, considering what Malik had done, but objectively speaking, it was completely true, as he had all the qualifications and more—many million times more.

Now... the crowd wasn't quiet out of admiration.

They were quiet because they knew what was coming.

Malik was going to ruin... something, crash a noble party.

This wasn't like before, where Malik was the misunderstood martyr.

This wasn't them gasping and realizing, Oh, he was right all along!

No. They could easily see it happening. This time…

Malik wasn't going to be misunderstood.

He was going to misunderstand.

And they could all feel it.

Everything was playing in that direction, weaving into that outcome.

Something cruel awaited them, and it made them beyond nervous.

Through all this, Huda, the main character of this "arc," didn't say a word.

She stood very still, eyes locked on the projection, on her uncle… and on the man she had no right to call big brother.

Her silence wasn't cold. It wasn't anger. It wasn't shock.

It was pain... but it was also happiness.

Pain because she understood what he felt. Why he was angry. Why he reacted the way he did. Why it hurt him. Why it made him want to kill.

Happiness because all of those feelings involved her. He wanted to help even if he didn't remember her. His heart told him of her. He STILL loved her. He wanted to be there for her.

She didn't care that she was about to get married off because of him; she didn't care that he took the Golden Throne instead of her. Now, she only cared for him.

Oh... how… How unfair had she been?

She bit her lip, holding back whatever emotion wanted to escape.

There was a storm behind her eyes—but not one she'd unleash.

She already knew what came next.

And it... it killed her.

The crowd was wrong about one detail.

Though he himself misunderstood, he was still misunderstood.

A bit of a tongue twister, but it was the truth.

Her uncle's death was never about revenge.

It was about a man trying to save his sister.

This wasn't a tragedy waiting to happen.

It was a tragedy already written.