Giving Every Yandere Villainess Her Happy Ending!

”Right here.”

She led me to the second floor, where her father lay sick. To my surprise, the door was covered in dozens of locks. Some magical, some mundane, but each one was clearly high security.

That alone told me how protective she was of her father.

”Watch your magic. The moment I sense even one wrong thing about your mana, I’ll kill you.”

Even as she made the threat, she looked unsure of herself. I didn’t blame her. It was like threatening a rock while you were an ant.

When I walked into the room, the sight that greeted me was grisly. No wonder the medicine she was paying for carried a premium price.

Her father’s body was half-petrified, as if he were slowly turning to stone. The other half was covered in rashes and lesions, wrapped in bandages that were clearly still leaking blood.

I’d seen plenty of plagues tear through my formations during my time as a general. But this was something else entirely.

Fantasy diseases really weren’t something you could joke about.

”It isn’t infectious, so you may inspect him as you wish for your treatment.”

It hadn’t been hard to convince her to let me do this. The moment I made the offer, she almost immediately relented. That told me a few things.

Either she trusted my healing magic enough to allow this, or her father didn’t have enough time left for her to hesitate.

Honestly, the answer was most likely both.

”This is...”

”Morbid?” she finished for me.

”N-No, not that—”

”You don’t have to lie. I know you’re thinking it. He’s unconscious most of the time anyway. He won’t hear.”

I stepped closer, letting my mana flow outward in a slow, controlled pulse. Not enough to trigger whatever defenses Seraph had prepared, but enough to give me a clearer picture of what I was dealing with.

”How long has he been like this?”

Seraph stood by the door, arms crossed, watching me like a hawk.

”Six years.”

That stopped me cold.

Six years of this?

That was the kind of love and dedication you’d barely find anywhere, in my world or this one. I had to give her credit. She was absurdly tough.

”He was a mage.”

She continued, her eyes fixed on the bed.

”A good one. Better than me. He took on a contract he shouldn’t have, something about exploring a cavern and finding a lost artifact. He failed. And now... it led to this.”

”And the medicine?”

”Keeps the petrification from spreading past his waist. It doesn’t reverse anything. But at least it keeps him living for longer until I find a more permanent solution.”

I let that sink in. The room was quiet, save for the faint rasp of her father’s breathing.

”Can you help him?” she asked.

The question was simple. The answer wasn’t.

My light magic was powerful, absurdly so. But this wasn’t a wound or a curse I could simply pour mana into until it went away.

This was six years of accumulated damage, tangled with a foreign curse I didn’t recognize, layered over a man who’d already been fighting for his life longer than most could endure.

But I did have one thing that could help. It wasn’t something I could use on a whim, though.

”Lady Seraph, if I treat him, will you promise to protect me for the rest of your life?”

”What?”

”Just give me an answer. Yes or no.”

”W-Well, if you manage to save him, then... yes. I’ll do everything. Even if it means becoming your personal bodyguard.”

”That’s all I needed to hear.”

I unleashed the Fey Core to its full power. The glowing orb in the center of my chest radiated outward, covering the room in a beautiful ghostly blue. This entire estate had enough mana to fill it three times over.

Whether it came from the magic plaguing her father or her own residual mana from years of training, it didn’t matter.

As long as I could use it for the spell.

True Healing.

The healing spell from the final page of Anna’s textbook. Something I’d only glanced at while she was still tutoring me.

The furniture began to tremble as I concentrated my mana. Not only did the spell use an absurd amount, but I hadn’t even mastered it as well.

That meant nearly tripling its already absurd mana requirement and effectively draining me dry for a day, maybe a week, if I even attempted it.

I would be vulnerable. Too weak to even walk. And I wasn’t even sure if Anna, Lillith, and Aqua could save me if anything attacked.

That’s where Seraph came in. Three powerful women were good, but it didn’t hurt to get a fourth.

”I apologize if I damage anything. This spell needs... a lot of mana.”

I let out a strained laugh. Just in time, one of the portraits hanging in the room dropped. The mana I was concentrating toward me was almost causing a localized earthquake in this very room.

I raised both hands over the petrified man. The spell’s formula burned through my mind like a brand. I’d only read it once, glanced at it while Anna was flipping pages during one of our early tutoring sessions.

I hadn’t even tried to memorize it. But the words were there, buried in my memory, waiting.

”True Healing.”

The incantation left my lips in a whisper. The Fey Core flared, and a column of blue-white light erupted from my chest, arcing down through my arms and into her father’s body.

The reaction was immediate.

His back arched off the bed. The petrified half of his body cracked, fissures spiderwebbing across the grey stone surface. The lesions on the other half bled freely, the bandages soaking through in seconds.

Seraph took a step forward. I heard her breath catch.

But I couldn’t spare the attention to reassure her. The spell was a living thing now, a river of mana flowing out of me faster than I could replenish it. The Fey Core drank from the ambient mana in the room, converting it, funneling it into the healing light.

It still wasn’t enough.

I felt my own reserves draining. My knees buckled. I caught myself on the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the frame. The wood splintered under my grip.

”Lord Brimstone—!”

”Don’t.”

I forced the word out through gritted teeth.

”I’m fine. Just... give me a minute.”

I was nearly down to twenty percent of my mana capacity...