Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 71: Aftermath

Ren woke up with a gasp, his chest heaving as if he had been drowning and had finally breached the surface.

His vision was blurry, his mind sluggish, but his body—

He sat up abruptly, hands flying over himself, expecting broken ribs, torn flesh, and shattered bones. Instead, he felt... whole.

His body was fully healed. No aches, no pain, no stiffness. Only the fatigue of his body desperately craving nourishment remained.

It was still night, and the cold air of the city surrounded him, brushing against his skin like a lover’s caress, reminding him that he had, in fact, survived.

Then he remembered it. The voice. The deep, eerie voice he had heard just before unconsciousness took him. A voice he’d only heard in a single cutscene from the game.

The silent healer.

Only those on the brink of death could hear it.

Ren clenched his fists. That means I used one of the remaining nine healings. Now, there’s eight left.

This was one of the benefits of having the mysterious healer in your debt. He was always known for showing up in times of dire need to clear your debt, whether you like it or not.

Well, this time, it’s an advantage. Next time, it might not be.

He took a deep breath to steady himself before attempting to stand. The moment he did, dizziness overwhelmed him.

His body was whole, but his energy reserves were dangerously low. He would need food. A lot of food. And rest.

But first, he needed to return to Thorn.

Focusing, he activated his ability and teleported to the inn whose rooftop he was sure he was currently on. The instant he arrived, Thorn was on his feet, daggers half-drawn before he realized just who it was.

"Ren!" Thorn’s expression shifted from alarm to overwhelming relief. "You absolute bastard. I thought you were dead."

Ren gave a weak grin. "Not yet."

The soldier, who was still in charge of securing the room for them, straightened, watching Ren closely. "You look like hell, my lord."

"Feel like it too." Ren admitted. "But thankfully, I’m in one piece."

Thorn stepped closer, looking him over. "No wounds? Not even a scratch? How is this possible?"

Ren nodded. "Yeah. Don’t ask how."

Thorn sighed but didn’t push. Instead, he sighed, letting his relief show. "Good. Because if you had died, I would’ve brought you back just to kill you myself."

Ren chuckled weakly. "Appreciate it."

Then, turning to the soldier, Ren placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did good, soldier. You’re done here. I need you to leave the city immediately and head to Blue Inn, which is just outside the capital."

"We’ll meet you there tomorrow and you’ll join us as a soldier of house Ross in entering the capital."

The soldier nodded, already moving to gather his things. "Understood."

Ren turned back to Thorn. "We need to get back to the inn. Lilith—"

"—would probably be worried out of her mind." Thorn finished. "You’re about to get smothered."

Ren didn’t argue. He was looking forward to it.

With the last of his strength, he teleported both himself and Thorn back to their room at the inn.

The moment they materialized, Ren barely had time to react before Lilith launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He stumbled slightly, his body still weak, but he managed to hold her steady.

"Ren!" Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, but he could hear the anxiety in it, the unspoken fear that had been festering in her mind ever since he left. "You’re back. You’re really back."

Ren exhaled, burying his face in her hair. "Yeah. I am."

She pulled back just enough to scan him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of injury. Her hands traced over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, as if trying to make sure he was real. "You were gone for too long. What happened?"

Ren opened his mouth to answer, then his vision swayed and his legs buckled beneath him.

The last thing he felt was Lilith tightening her hold on him before everything went dark again.

[][][][][]

The next morning, in Steadfast’s inner city, the Penny Prince stood in front of the wreckage of the collapsed mansion, arms crossed as he observed his people picking through the ruins.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

His personal healer had worked through the night to mend his wounds, but even now, with the wound completely gone, he could still feel a dull ache in his abdomen, from the bite of the dagger that had almost disemboweled him.

He’d underestimated his opponent. He’d allowed his arrogance to cloud his judgement. And this was the result.

Lars approached, his boots crunching over fallen debris. "Still no sign of the body."

The Penny Prince didn’t respond immediately. He stared at the remains of what had once been the house of his first Swordsman.

No body meant one thing.

"He survived." The Penny Prince murmured. "Or he crawled off somewhere to die."

Lars folded his arms. "What do you want to do?"

The Penny Prince exhaled through his nose, the frustration in his posture barely contained. "Nothing."

Lars blinked. "Nothing?"

The Penny Prince turned to him, his golden eyes gleaming. "The assassin has already accomplished his goal. My three Swordsmen are dead. My previous plans, ruined."

"I doubt he’ll strike again. He’s already achieved what he wanted. Gutting my inner circle."

Lars studied him for a few seconds before nodding. "Then, we’ll have to focus on the King’s tournament."

"Not yet." The Penny Prince’s expression shifted, the frustration easing into something more thoughtful. "The plan for the king has changed, but the deadline remains the same."

Lars’ expression didn’t change. "There’s a new plan already?"

The Penny Prince smirked. "Not yet. But I have ideas."

He turned back to the wreckage. "Perhaps I’ll use the Underwoods after all. They’re far more interesting than I gave them credit for."

Lars hesitated. "And if the assassin is still alive? If he plans to interfere?"

The Penny Prince’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "Then let him."

He reached into his coat, pulling out a silver coin, flicking it into the air before catching it.

"It’ll be fun to see how long he can keep playing this game."

And with that, he walked away.