An Unwritten Story [Villainous Power Couple, LitRPG]

“Captain! This way!”

Kenar’s voice sliced through the narrow back alley like a thrown dagger. Without hesitation, Kaelen pivoted, his boots striking stone in a rhythm as he and the two other knights sprinted toward Kenar, into the dark throat of the alleyway.

The rhythmic thud of their boots echoed too loudly for such a cramped space, as if the damp walls themselves were whispering back their approach. The alley smelled faintly of wet brick and something else—something metallic and sour.

Then, finally, they reached a dead end.

“There’s nothing?” Kenar muttered.

“Are we at the wrong place?”

His squadmates asked, but Kaelen had no answer. He scanned the cul-de-sac slowly, ocean-blue eyes sweeping across cracked stone, moss-covered mortar, and rusted drainpipes.

There seemed to be absolutely nothing—nothing moved, no flicker of Aether, no distortion of air.

Nothing to be found. Is it above? Or—

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his unscathed sword. No. It was definitely those raw instincts sharpened by years of surviving a merciless world without a ‘blessing’.

“It has to be down,” he muttered, adjusting his stance.

With a fluid motion, he flipped the blade in his grip—edge downward, hilt facing up, the steel reflecting a thin sliver of light from far above. For a moment, he looked like an executioner about to put the earth itself to the sword.

[Aura Blade]

Then, he struck. The sword drove down, and the ground shattered, the alley screaming in response as the floor gave way.

“W-what the hell?!”

“Captain—!”

They hadn’t even seen him move, but after realizing it was his doing, the three knights allowed gravity to swallow them whole, hitting the ground below with a bone-rattling crash. When the haze finally settled, the grim reality revealed beneath the city streets made even the hardened knights hesitate.

It was an underground laboratory, its air thick, stagnant, and utterly rotten. The faint light filtering from above illuminated iron cages—rows upon rows of them. Inside them were people—not criminals, not enemy soldiers.

Citizens.

Their eyes reflected an agony so raw it felt as if their souls had already abandoned them.

“What is this place…?”

“…This is—”

As the words died, the foul stench struck them next. The knights covered their noses, but a physical barrier could never shield them from the horrific truth echoing through the gloom.

“…Help… me…” A figure from the nearest cage reached out towards the knights, but Kenar could only look away.

“Ple… kill me…” Another, crawling on the floor, extended her hand through the cage bars.

“I WANT TO DIE!” Others reached their hands toward the light filtering from above, clinging to a final, desperate hope.

Broken, manic giggles drifted out of the darkness—the sound of shattered minds that had already accepted their fate and drowned in it.

Voices of varying torment rippled through the laboratory—some were desperately hanging onto the fraying threads of life; some had long since lost their sanity to the dark; some already begged for death to end their agony.

They were kept like beasts inside cages, their hair matted with grime, their skin torn, their lips cracked and bleeding. Their eyes were completely unfocused, some drifting in different directions as if their minds had fled their broken bodies.

Male or female, adult or child? It didn’t matter. Torture erases all categories.

Kaelen’s jaw tightened as if he were biting down on a blade. His teeth clenched, and his shimmering blue eyes shook with unbridled fury. The kingdom’s crest engraved on his armor suddenly felt heavier than iron.

A royal knight would never allow the citizens of his kingdom to rot in vain, and he had dedicated his life to that dream.

This is not war… this is pure rot!

“How remarkable that you found this place,” a voice smoothly emerged from the deep shadows.

A man with pale green hair and a frail body stepped forward into the fractured light, though his eyes were darker than the abyssal void beneath them. A ruined, blood-stained mace hung loosely in his grip, looking as though it had been wielded with terrifying enthusiasm.

“Hey,” Kaelen spoke, his voice dropping into a dangerous register, the light falling from above only serving to cast his face into deeper shadow. “…Are you the one responsible for this?”

The green-haired man smiled. It was not a smile of madness. It was something worse—detached curiosity.

“Who knows? Frankly, you don’t need to know. You will all die here anyway!”

He stretched his hands out wide to his sides, his fingers twitching like a conductor preparing a grand, tragic orchestra, before muttering a single syllable:

“Activate [Transfiguration].” The word rang through the laboratory like a solemn funeral bell.

Kaelen’s head instinctively snapped toward the iron cages as a horrific spectacle unfolded. The captive humans began to tremble. Then, they began to merge—bones shifted and snapped with sickening, wet cracks, skin fused, and living flesh braided into flesh.

Kaelen’s breath caught in his throat at the sheer grotesqueness of the sight, but he forced his focus back to the green-haired man—only to find the spot empty.

The architect of this nightmare had already vanished into thin air.

“…Dammit!”

With a shrieking tear of metal and snapping iron, the cages broke open entirely. The human-like monsters stepped out one by one, their grotesque silhouettes trembling in the half-light. Their limbs were unevenly attached, their eyes mismatched, and their breathing wet and ragged.

And Kaelen Veythorne—the one who desperately wished to become a royal knight—raised his sword high.

He did not raise it because he believed he could win, but because when the dark closes in, someone has to be the first to stand against it.

***

“After I managed to defeat one of them, I blacked out. The remaining monsters were dealt with by that man over there,” Kaelen concluded, his voice steady but carrying a dimmed undertone.

He stood upright, yet the invisible weight of letting the mastermind escape pressed heavily upon his shoulders like an immovable mountain.

He had a grand summit to reach, a legacy to fulfill. And to reach that place, he knew he had to protect every single civilian in his kingdom, just as that nameless knight had done for him so long ago.

While Kaelen was quietly reflecting on his perceived lack of power, Noa—the man who had intervened—was staring intently at Vionette. His expression mirrored that of a child waiting for praise after breaking something expensive, yet undeniably heroic.

“What is it now?” Vionette asked, looking back at him, already guessing the thoughts racing through his mind.

Noa blinked, then rolled his shoulders with dramatic flair, extending an open hand toward her like a starving beggar pleading for alms.

“Any compliments, myyy ladyyy?” His purple eyes widened in an expression of exaggerated, comedic innocence. “I saved your precious civilians and your knights, after all.”

Vionette stared at him, a wave of fondness washing over her.

I mean, he did save them. And… it’ll make him happy anyway. She closed her eyes briefly, letting her rigid posture soften.

“You’ve done a great job, thank you~” she said with a playful, melodic sweetness, resting her jaw gently atop her interlaced fingers.

Noa froze, his soul seemingly leaving his body to ascend to heaven for a fraction of a second. Then, he whipped his head away dramatically, covering his face with a hand to hide his reaction.

“Ah. I see,” he muttered, a thoroughly mischievous, self-satisfied smile spreading across his face.

I’ll definitely ask for my real reward later! A mischievous cackle echoed in his mind.

Vionette cleared her throat, reclaiming her composure as she turned her attention back to the wounded knight. “So, there was a human experiment operating beneath Blackmoor borders?”

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.”

While Vionette maintained a calm façade and played along with Noa’s little game on the outside, internally—

[Warning! Host is in a state of wrath!]

[Advice: Please calm down!]

There was a human corrupting event going on behind the scenes. I need to clean up my kingdom before everything. Vionette tilted her head up slightly, gazing toward the open sky. Whenever there’s a problem, a fated problem solver is always drawn to it. Some call them heroes, some call them monsters, and some call them… Her blood-red eyes shifted slowly, landing upon Kaelen. …protagonists.

“Kaelen Veythorne.”

When she spoke his name, the sound didn’t merely travel across the private garden; it settled over the entire space with an undeniable weight, as though the very atmosphere had been holding its breath, waiting to carry her words.

Vionette rose from her seat with her usual grace, the fabric of her dress reflecting softly against the polished stone path.

Witnessing her approach, Kaelen lowered himself to the ground without a moment’s hesitation. One knee struck the dirt, his head bowing deeply as one wounded, bandaged hand rested firmly over his heart while the other anchored him to the earth.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

Vionette stopped a few paces away from him. For a long heartbeat, she simply looked down at him—not as a ruler surveying a passing soldier, but as a sovereign weighing the quality of a blade before claiming it for her own.

“From this day forward,” she began, her voice suddenly carrying a resonant echo that commanded attention, “you will directly serve the throne. You understand what that means, right?”

The words struck Kaelen with far greater impact than any physical weapon ever could. His eyes, fixed on the stone pavement beneath his knees, widened imperceptibly.

To directly serve the throne... to become a Royal Knight?!

The dream forged from his mother’s sacrifice, the legacy passed down to him by the nameless knight who had once stood between him and death—to Kaelen, this was never just a prestigious title. It was the summit of a mountain he had spent his entire life clawing toward with bleeding, raw hands.

He had been cursed, barred from ever obtaining ’skills’—the reality-altering blessings that reshaped human destinies and overturned empires. Yet deep within that barren soil, a single unyielding seed had refused to die, constantly pushing forward.

A seed named ’Will’.

He had screamed at the sky until his throat tore raw, demanding an answer, yet the distant heavens had remained silent. He had begged for a blessing, only to be left with a curse.

And now—

Now, a new heaven stood before him.

Behind Vionette, the sun aligned perfectly, as though it had sworn an oath to her cause. The brilliant light radiated from behind her, gilding her silhouette in a blinding white.

Kaelen lowered his head even further, the final remnants of his doubt evaporating into nothingness.

“When one officially becomes a knight, they must pronounce this one specific line, you know?” A mother’s lips curved into a gentle smile as she teased her eager child.

“Yes! Yes! I want to hear it, Mom! Teach it to me right now!” the young boy exclaimed cheerfully, his eyes bright with innocence.

The mother chuckled warmly. “You eager child. Okay then, repeat after me: Your…”

“Your will is my oath,” Kaelen spoke aloud, his voice cutting through the silence of the garden. “My sword is yours to command. My mercy is yours to deny. This honor is greater than my life itself, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”

The words did not belong to the knight kneeling in the dirt. They belonged to the young boy who had once fled a burning city with ash filling his lungs and fear clawing at his spine.

It was that very boy who finally answered his destiny now.

His ocean-like eyes, once clouded by a lifetime of helplessness, glowed with a profound depth that resembled a raging storm held desperately at bay.

“Rise, Sir Kaelen Veythorne,” Vionette commanded. Her voice carried an absolute authority, her tone turning serious for the first time since the hearing began. “From this moment forth, you shall be Crimvane’s Royal Knight Commander.”

As Kaelen stood up, something shifted deep within his body. The ache of his broken ribs and the exhaustion carved into his very muscles and marrow seemed to recede rapidly, like a tide pulled back by unseen hands. The physical pain did not vanish, but it bowed to the authority before him.

Vionette lifted her hand, sweeping a stray strand of silver-white hair from her face with an idle elegance. Yet, as she looked at her newly appointed commander, her lips slowly curved upward into an amused, chilling smile, her crimson eyes gleaming with a terrifying light.

A dark, melodic laughter slipped from her lips without restraint—bright and erratic, echoing through the quiet confines of the garden.

The crimson eyes gazing at Kaelen no longer saw the knight before them. They reflected the visions of collapsing walls, burning banners, and the kingdoms that had once dared to betray Crimvane crumbling one after another like chess pieces swept from a grand board.

The deliberate sound of a single handclap instantly cut through the suffocating tension.

Noa stepped forward, his hands lowering after the singular, rhythmic applause.

“That’s enough of your private entertainment,” he said evenly, casting a lazy glance toward the nobles. “You’re going to scare these guys.”

Vionette blinked, the apocalyptic visions dissolving like morning mist as reality rushed back in layers. She turned her head slightly, only to find the counts and nobles staring back at her with pale faces, confusion frozen in their brows, and a profound unease tightening their lips.

He’s right... Vionette sighed internally, shaking off the lingering high of her ambitions. It’s just a dream for now. Let’s not push too hard.

Her smile softened seamlessly, realigning into a controlled, regal expression.

“Alright, Kaelen,” she said, turning toward her new commander. “You will be in charge of protecting the kingdom from this day forward. Deploy the royal knights however you see fit and solve these problems.”

She paused, and when her crimson eyes locked onto his this time, there was no trace of wild laughter—only command.

“However, I will not tolerate a single death. Ensure that everyone within the borders of this kingdom remains safe.”

The order was simple in its phrasing, yet monumental in its actual weight.

Kaelen bowed, his hand over his heart. “By your will!”

I swear to the demon lord, you have to stop using that line! Vionette screamed to herself.

“We’re done here then, right?” Noa used [Blink] and appeared beside her.

He had originally come here to spend a few days and relax. However, the thought of a certain dragon now occupied his mind, making his blood boil at the very idea.

Vionette smiled at him. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Wait, wait, wait, wait! What do you mean the Captain is suddenly becoming the Royal Knight Commander?! Kenar thought from behind, his face a mask of wide-eyed, comical panic.

***

Later that evening, inside the bustling capital city, the sky above glowed like a magnificent crown forged of molten gold and deep crimson as the sun slowly dipped toward the horizon.

“‘Son, do not allow yourself to be fooled by unearned pride again. Serve Her Majesty and earn your pride.’ That is what he told me,” Lucien recounted, his voice mimicking his father’s.

Noa looked back at him over his shoulder, his face a picture of mild disappointment. “…Man, it really looks like your father isn’t a very self-aware person, is he?”

Lucien, completely missing Noa’s words, merely grinned as he stared ahead into the twilight.

Don’t worry, Father. This is a brand-new beginning for the Blackmoor name.

“It’s fine, Captain. We’ll come under your command again—and that time, it’ll be as proud Royal Knights.” Kaelen recalled the supportive smiles of his squadmates before they had parted ways.

A Royal Knight... Mother, I’ve finally reached my dream. I’ve even surpassed it, Kaelen thought, his gaze drifting toward the distant, towering silhouette of the royal castle. It no longer feels like an unreachable star.

“Alright, you two,” Vionette suddenly turned around, a kittenish smile gracing her features. “Go anywhere you want and enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day. We have big plans tomorrow. Rose, that applies to you as well.”

“Me… too?” Rose asked, blinking in surprise as she pointed a finger at her own chest.

“Yes. You are free to take a break as well.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Her expression remained the epitome of a flawless head maid. Inside, however, she was throwing a parade.

Hell yeaaaaa! I was just thinking that I don’t get paid enough!

…

After the three of them departed, only Noa and Vionette remained under the deepening twilight. Then, they began walking side by side toward the opposite side of the castle—venturing into the vibrant heart of the city.

“We teleported to a teleportation circle outside the castle because you wanted to avoid dealing with Seliora, right?” Noa asked, narrowing his eyes at her. “It’s not like the circle inside the castle is broken.”

“Uhh… whatever do you mean by that?” Vionette quickly looked away, suddenly finding the surrounding architecture incredibly interesting. “It just so happens to have suddenly broken just now.”

“Say,” Noa continued, ignoring her lie as he laced his hands behind his head, “me being interested in Lucien is one thing. But why did you recruit him? The guy doesn’t even have any strength; he’s at the lowest level of the Augmented stage.”

“For the same reason you spared him, honestly... and because of his lying skills.”

“He sure is a lucky bastard. First I happen to forget to kill him, and then he runs into you and survives me a second time.” Noa chuckled softly under his breath. “That is some absurd luck for a third-rate villain.”

Vionette snapped her fingers.

“Exactly! Furthermore, with Lucien being loyal to me, the Blackmoor dukedom is now secured against any potential backstabbing.” she looked at Noa and tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes reflecting the fading light. “You know, even the dullest stones can be polished to shine under the right hands.”

As the distant horizon bled a deep crimson like a wounded god, Noa and Vionette wandered deeper into the glowing streets of the city.