The heavy, soundproof door of the Nightshade Dukedom's black carriage clicked shut, instantly cutting off the chaotic noise of the Academy gates.
Inside, the carriage was more luxurious than most noble drawing rooms. It was lined with dark, plush velvet, illuminated by a single, dim floating crystal, and smelled faintly of expensive bergamot and aged wine.
Victor Nightshade sat relaxed on one side, his long legs elegantly crossed. He poured himself a glass of crimson wine from a crystal decanter, his demeanor as calm as a placid lake.
Sitting rigidly on the opposite bench was Serena.
The Silver-haired Saintess held her white wooden staff tightly across her lap, her knuckles white. She tried to maintain her holy, untouchable aura, but being enclosed in this small, dimly lit space with the Ultimate Villain was proving to be terrifyingly difficult.
The air around him was so dense with dark, draconic mana that she felt like she was sitting across from a sleeping apex predator.
And worse... hidden perfectly within the shadow cast by Victor's seat, she could sense a pair of chilling, ruby-red eyes staring at her throat. It was Lilith, the Blood Moon Phantom, silently guarding her new Master from the dark.
"Wine, Saintess?" Victor broke the silence, his voice a smooth, dark velvet purr. He offered a second goblet.
"No," Serena replied, her voice slightly higher than usual. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her righteous footing. "The Church forbids indulgences of the flesh during daylight hours."
"A pity," Victor murmured, taking a slow sip. He didn't push. He simply watched her over the rim of his glass, his glowing violet eyes analyzing her every twitch.
Silence stretched again, thick with tension. Finally, Serena couldn't hold it back any longer.
"Why?" she asked, her holy blue eyes locking onto his. "Why did you have to destroy him so completely, Victor? You shattered his core at the Awakening, and today... today you let his companions tear him apart in front of the entire Academy."
Serena gripped her staff tighter. "The Goddess of Light teaches us mercy. You have the power of a sovereign, yet you use it with such absolute, unnecessary cruelty. He is already a cripple. Did you truly need to crush his dignity as well?"
Victor slowly lowered his wine glass.
The faint, aristocratic smile vanished from his face, replaced by an expression of profound, chilling apathy.
"Mercy," Victor repeated the word, rolling it on his tongue as if it were a foul-tasting poison. He let out a low, incredibly dark chuckle that vibrated through the floorboards of the carriage.
"Tell me, Saintess," Victor's eyes narrowed. "If I had not been in that forest, what do you think would have happened to those two commoner boys Leon dragged into the inner zone?"
Serena opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"They would be dead," Victor answered for her, his voice slicing through her holy logic like a scalpel. "Torn apart by a Tier-8 beast because your precious 'Hero of the Light' was too blinded by his own greed and desperation to care about their lives."
Victor leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, his gaze pinning her down.
"He was willing to sacrifice his 'brothers' to fix his own broken pride. I merely stripped away his heroic mask and showed the world the pathetic, selfish rat hiding underneath. And you call me cruel?"
"He... he was desperate..." Serena whispered weakly, her arguments crumbling. "The Light..."
"The Light is an illusion for the weak," Victor interrupted, his voice dropping an octave.
Swish.
He didn't walk. He simply used a fraction of Shadowstep.
In the blink of an eye, Victor crossed the carriage. He didn't sit next to her; he towered over her. He placed one hand on the velvet wall right beside her head, and the other on the edge of her seat, completely trapping the Saintess between his arms.
Kabedon.
Serena gasped, her back pressing hard against the cushions. Her staff slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor.
He was so close. The suffocating, intoxicating scent of bergamot, dark magic, and absolute male dominance washed over her. Her heart hammered against her ribs so violently she thought it might shatter them.
Victor leaned down, his face mere inches from hers. His violet eyes swirled with abyssal depths, peering straight into her soul.
"You didn't get into my carriage to preach to me, Serena," Victor whispered, his breath brushing against her pale, sensitive ear.
Serena shivered, a violent blush rushing to her cheeks, turning them a deep crimson. "I... I am a servant of the Goddess..."
"Liar," Victor purred, his large, cold hand slowly reaching up. He didn't touch her skin, but his fingers gently traced the contour of her silver hair, the dark mana contrasting beautifully with the holy light.
"You sat in the VIP balcony today. You saw Leon bleeding, and you felt nothing but disgust," Victor said, his voice a hypnotic, demonic lullaby. "You got into this carriage because the Light bores you. You got in because the Abyss... excites you."
"No..." Serena whimpered, closing her eyes. But she didn't push him away. Her hands, which should have been casting a repelling spell, were nervously gripping the fabric of her own skirt.
"You want to know what true power feels like. Power without the hypocritical chains of 'mercy' and 'righteousness'," Victor whispered, his lips brushing dangerously close to her cheek. "Admit it, my fallen Saintess. The darkness is calling you."
For a long, agonizing moment, Serena couldn't breathe. Her holy aura, the culmination of fifteen years of pious training, completely collapsed under the sheer, suffocating weight of his dark charisma.
She opened her tear-filled blue eyes, looking up at the terrifying, beautiful monster pinning her down.
"I..." Serena's voice was barely a breath. "I... am afraid..."
"Good," Victor smiled, a breathtaking, wicked smile that sealed her fate. "Fear is the first step of worship."
[Ding!]
[Heroine Serena's psychological defense has been completely shattered!]
[Her worldview has successfully inverted! Faith in the Goddess of Light: 0%. Fascination with the Host: MAX!]
[Major Plotline altered! The 'Fallen Saintess' route has been permanently locked in!]
[Reward: +4,000 Villain Points!]
The carriage suddenly rolled to a smooth halt.
Victor instantly pulled back, his demeanor seamlessly shifting from a predatory demon back to a polite, detached aristocrat. He casually picked up his wine glass and took a sip, as if the intense, soul-crushing intimacy of the last three minutes had never happened.
"We have arrived at the Grand Cathedral, Saintess," Victor said smoothly, gesturing to the door.
Serena sat frozen for a second, her chest heaving, her face flushed redder than a tomato. She scrambled to pick up her fallen staff, her hands trembling so violently she dropped it twice.
She practically threw herself out of the carriage door, gasping for the cold outside air as if she had been drowning.
She stood on the Cathedral steps, looking back at the dark carriage. Victor didn't look at her; he was already reading a document.
Serena bit her lip, clutching her chest where her heart was still racing uncontrollably. She turned and ran into the holy church, but she knew the truth. She didn't belong to the Light anymore. Her soul had been left behind in that dark carriage.
The carriage pulled away from the Cathedral, heading toward the sprawling, heavily fortified estate of the Nightshade Dukedom.
"Master," a soft, utterly devoted voice whispered from the shadows of the carriage floor. Lilith slowly materialized, resting her chin near Victor's knee, her ruby eyes looking up at him with unhinged adoration. "Should I kill the church guards who looked at you with disrespect?"
"No need, little bat. They are irrelevant," Victor said, stroking Lilith's silver hair absentmindedly, much like one would pet a lethal, loyal hound.
The carriage passed through the massive iron gates of the Nightshade Manor.
Standing in the pouring rain, waiting with an umbrella and a bow so deep his nose almost touched his knees, was Sebastian, the Head Butler of the Dukedom. An old man who hid the terrifying aura of a Master-Rank mage beneath his tailcoat.
Victor stepped out of the carriage.
"Welcome back, Young Master," Sebastian said, his voice trembling with a new, profound reverence. He had already received the reports of the trial. The boy he once thought was a spoiled brat had returned as a terrifying Sovereign.
Victor didn't head inside to rest. He stood in the rain, the drops deflecting off an invisible barrier of shadow mana before they could touch his coat.
"Sebastian," Victor's voice was cold, devoid of any of the playful teasing he used with the Saintess. It was the voice of a true dictator.
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Leon Bright's family runs a mid-tier alchemy and herb-trading business in the lower districts, correct?"
"Yes, My Lord. House Bright. They supply low-grade potions to the city guards."
Victor's violet eyes narrowed into two slits of pure, abyssal cruelty. The physical and psychological destruction of the protagonist was done. Now, it was time for the societal eradication.
"Start the net," Victor commanded, his voice slicing through the sound of the rain. "I want their supply lines cut. I want their contracted alchemists bought out or threatened. I want their debts called in simultaneously by the Iron Bank."
Victor adjusted his cuffs, a demonic smile playing on his lips.
"I want House Bright utterly penniless, bankrupt, and begging on the streets in exactly three days. Do not leave them a single copper coin."
"It shall be done, My Lord!" Sebastian bowed deeply, shivering at the sheer ruthlessness of the command.
The Ultimate Villain walked into his manor. The true harvest of the "Son of Fortune" had reached its final, most devastating phase.