The Return Of The Exiled Villain

A few hours later, both of them had already showered.

Lyra was asleep on the bed again, breathing quietly, one hand resting near where Gray had been lying.

Her half-blonde hair was still slightly damp from the shower and spread across the pillow. She looked calm, as if the realization of leaving tomorrow had not yet reached her in her sleep.

Gray sat on the edge of the bed for a while, watching her.

He stayed there longer than he meant to. Then he stood up, pulled on a simple black shirt and pants, and left the room without making a sound.

The hotel corridor was empty and quiet.

He walked down the stairs and stepped out into the night.

The streets were mostly empty at this hour.

Soft light from the street lamps stretched across the stone roads.

Swoo~~

A cool breeze moved through the air.

”Fuck...”

Lyra was leaving again tomorrow.

Gray walked without any real direction.

He walked past closed shops and empty squares until the buildings gradually thinned out.

Before he fully registered where he was, the stone path under his feet had changed.

Old iron gates stood open on either side of him, and beyond them stretched rows of weathered headstones.

He had entered a graveyard.

Though he still didn’t turn back, and simply continued walking between the graves, hands still in his pockets, eyes moving over the names without really reading them.

The night air felt heavier here.

The breeze that had followed him from the city seemed to stop at the gates.

After a while, his feet stopped on their own.

In front of him stood a tomb that looked different from the others.

The stone was cleaner, the edges sharper, as if time had touched it more gently. A simple plaque was set into its face.

Veronica Vireux

Gray raised an eyebrow.

He had not expected to find his mother’s grave here.

In all the years since her death, he had never been told where she was buried, and he had never bothered to search.

There were no flowers at the base of the tomb.

No candles.

No signs that anyone had visited in a long time.

The stone stood alone and quiet under the moonlight.

He lifted one hand, about to rest his fingers against the cold surface...

”Veronica was a really kind-hearted woman... unlike your dark soul.”

The voice came from behind him.

Gray slowly turned around.

The Saintess of Hope and Light stood a few steps away, her platinum hair faintly luminous even in the dim graveyard light.

A small, calm smile rested on her lips.

Behind her, Aurora stood with her arms loosely crossed, gaze turned to the side as if she would rather look anywhere else than meet his eyes.

Gray let out a quiet sigh.

He turned his body fully toward the Saintess and waited, expression unreadable, for her to continue.

The Saintess’s faint smile did not fade as she looked past Gray toward the tomb.

”Veronica was the sort of person who made silence feel comfortable,” she began, her voice soft but clear in the quiet graveyard.

”Most people fill empty space with words because they are afraid of what the quiet might show them. She never did, and instead, she could sit beside you for an hour without speaking, and somehow you would leave that hour feeling lighter than when you arrived. That was her gift. She listened in a way that made others feel seen without ever needing to perform for her.”

She took a slow step closer to the grave, the hem of her pure white robes barely brushing the grass.

”I remember the first time I met her. It was not in a temple or a court. It was in a small garden on the edge of a city that no longer exists under the same name. She was tending to a row of simple flowers, nothing rare nor expensive, just ordinary blooms that most nobles would have overlooked. When she noticed me watching, she did not bow or panic the way most people did when they realized who I was. She only smiled and asked if I would like to help water them as if I were an ordinary visitor. As if my title meant nothing in that moment.”

The Saintess’s silver eyes softened with the memory.

”We spoke for a long time that afternoon. About small things at first, the weather, the way certain plants leaned toward the sun, the stubbornness of weeds. Then, without either of us quite noticing the shift, the conversation became deeper. She told me about the weight of expectations, about the loneliness that can exist even inside a crowded household, about the quiet fear of raising a child in a world that often rewards cruelty more than kindness. She never complained. She simply spoke honestly, and she allowed me to do the same.”

Aurora remained silent behind her, still looking away.

”After that day, we continued to meet when circumstances allowed,” the Saintess continued.

”Not often. Sometimes months would pass. But whenever our paths crossed, it felt as if no time had been lost. She would ask about the burdens I carried as if they were ordinary troubles, and in return she would share the small joys and quiet worries of her own life. She spoke of her son more than once, of how bright he was, how quickly he learned, how she hoped the darkness of the world would not reach him too early. She never named the darkness she feared, but I could sense it in the way her voice softened when she spoke of the future.”

The Saintess glanced briefly at Gray, then returned her gaze to the tombstone.

”Veronica had a way of seeing the good in people even when they had already given up on themselves. It was not naivety. She understood cruelty and ambition and the ugly parts of human nature better than most. Yet she still chose to believe that kindness was worth offering. That choice made her rare. In the circles I moved through, kindness was often treated as a weakness or a performance. With her, it was simply who she was.”

A light breeze moved through the graveyard, stirring the ends of the Saintess’s platinum hair.

”I was not there when she died,” she said more quietly.

”By the time news reached me, it was already too late. I came to this place once, years ago, to pay my respects. The tomb looked much the same then as it does now, without the usual signs of regular visitors. I left no flowers. She would not have wanted the gesture to be for show. I only stood here for a while, the way we used to sit in that garden, and then I left.”

She turned her full attention back to Gray.

”In all the years since, I have met many people who claimed to know her. Most of them spoke of her beauty or her status or the tragedy of her passing. Very few spoke of the woman herself, the quiet strength, the unforced kindness, the way she could make even a saintess like me feel like an ordinary person for a short while.”

Gray had listened without interrupting.

The night air felt colder near the grave. When the Saintess finally fell silent, he spoke for the first time since she had begun.

”Did you know my mother?”

He asked this as if she didn’t tell all of that.

The Saintess looked at him directly and nodded calmly.

”Yes,” she answered.

”I knew her well.”

[She’s being sincere.]

Jasmine’s voice echoed in his head.

’...Thought so.’

[...Gray, listen to me. If this Goddess is here, she’s probably here to make you her Divine Child. If you agree, she’ll take you to the Upper Plane and give you the best resources ever for you to speed up your cultivation and...]

’I’m not accepting.’

[Gray... this is a BIG opportunity... like one where you might not get again.]

’Jasmine... if I turn into a Divine Child, you’ll be forced out of my body even with a Soul Binding Contract... and ONLY you will be injured. I’m never taking that opportunity if it means hurting you.’

[Gray...]

’...I’m going to the underworld, Jasmine. That’s the best thing I can do right now.’

[Gray?! You really are sure that you want to cultivate Evil Qi?]

’...It’s probably the only way if I want to...’

Gray’s thoughts trailed off.

He closed his thoughts from Jasmine and finished the sentence only to himself.

’To cultivate the Sacred Demon Body.’

[...What did you say?]

’Nothing...’

Gray turned fully toward the Saintess.

”Surely you didn’t come here just to talk about my mother... so state it directly. What do you want from me?”

The Saintess’s faint smile deepened slightly, though her silver eyes stayed calm and clear.

”Very well,” she said.

”I will speak plainly.”

She took one step closer, the soft light around her making the graveyard feel a little less dark.

”I wish to take you as my Divine Child. If you accept, I will bring you with me to the Upper Plane. There you will receive resources, guidance, and protection that no force in this lower world can match. Your cultivation will advance at a speed most people can only dream of. In time, you will stand far above the limits of this plane.”

She glanced briefly at Veronica’s tomb, then back at Gray.

”Your mother once hoped the darkness of the world would not reach you too early. I cannot undo what has already happened, but I can offer you a path that leads away from it. That is what I want from you, Gray Vireux. Your agreement... and your future under my name.”