I Am a Villain, So What?-Chapter 147: The Executioner?

"What the fuck is that..." Oliver whispered, his voice completely hollow.

He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. His blank expression told me his mind was collapsing under the sheer scale of the horror before him. The Druid’s deep connection to nature was backfiring—he could feel the agony of the dead forest amplifying the monster’s presence.

In a rush, I grabbed his shoulders and shook him vigorously.

"Oliver!"

His pupils were unfocused.

"Oliver! Snap out of it!"

"C-Cadet... Lucien?" he mumbled weakly, teetering on the edge of a panic-induced coma.

I pulled him up by his lapels, forcing him to look away from the monster and directly into my cold, glowing blue eyes. I had to pull him out before he drowned in his own terror.

"Listen to me," I commanded, my voice cutting through the toxic wind. "You are the Heir of Verdant. You are a cadet trained to fight monsters. Act like it."

Oliver blinked. The suffocating panic in his eyes receded slightly, replaced by a desperate, shaky resolve. He nodded, gripping his wooden staff until his knuckles turned white.

After calming him down, I pulled the Winchester from my inventory, cycling the bolt. I was ready to go into battle, but then my [Detection] skill flared wildly.

I looked up at the spatial fracture above us.

"Argh!" "Hot! It’s melting my boots!" "Eek! Kael, do something!" "Ugh?!" "...?!"

Five people tumbled out of the dimensional distortion in rapid succession, plummeting straight toward the rotting, acidic tree trunk below.

Fortunately, Kael’s combat instincts were razor-sharp. Mid-air, he drew his sword, coating it in a brilliant golden aura.

With a single, powerful strike, he shattered the massive rotting tree before they even landed, scattering the corrosive wood and creating a safe clearing of displaced dirt for them to land on.

"These idiots..." I muttered, lowering my rifle.

Elisha hit the ground, immediately surveying the surroundings with an arrow nocked. Upon spotting the colossal Treant—which was now wreathed in roaring, sickly green corrosive flames—she gasped in shock.

"What in the world! Lucien, you really are...!"

"What, does it look like I caused this?" I deadpanned, gesturing to the apocalyptic landscape.

"No, I mean, how do you keep finding these things?!" Elisha yelled over the roaring green flames. "Hidden dungeons even the Hunter’s Association doesn’t know about! Poison swamps! Giant burning trees!"

Kael ignored the monster for a moment. He stared blankly at me, taking in my black Shadow-Weave Tactical Suit and the custom rifle in my hands.

"As expected, Lucien," Kael muttered, his eyes wide with misguided awe. "Are you... the Executioner...?"

This guy was lost in his own delusions again.

Ever since the Dr. Eldric incident and the cover-up in the slums, Kael had been giving me strange looks, jumping to wild conclusions based on his own hero-complex misunderstandings. He desperately wanted me to be a secret agent of justice to justify my actions.

I glared at him, letting a fraction of my killing intent seep out.

"Stop with the delusions, Cadet Kael. You read too many comic books."

"...."

Kael didn’t respond to the insult, but his grip on his sword tightened. "Cadet Lucien, what should we do now?"

"What should you do? If you hadn’t come in, that would’ve been the best option," I sighed, pointing the barrel of my gun at the towering Blight-Root Treant. It was noticing us now, its massive, skeletal wooden roots ripping out of the ground.

"If you’ve got eyes, deal with the rampaging flame giant first."

Kael seemed about to say something—probably a heroic speech about teamwork—but gave up and prepared for battle. Bordon, Mariella, and Princess Celestia quickly fell into formation behind him.

"Hey, Cadet Lucien," Elisha called out, lingering behind the group.

"What is it, Cadet Elisha?"

"...Never mind."

Elisha started to say something, her expression a mix of frustration and strange relief, but she shook her head and sprinted forward to join the vanguard.

’What’s with her?’ I wondered, before turning my attention back to the fight.

GWUUUAAAAHH!

The Primordial Blight-Root let out a deafening, creaking roar. A wave of corrosive green fire swept toward the party.

The Protagonist Party didn’t flinch. They had already engaged.

"Mariella! Clear the acid!" Kael ordered.

"Y-Yes!"

Mariella slammed her staff into the ground. [High Water Magic: Torrential Aqua].

A massive, localized rainstorm materialized above the Treant. Heavy, purifying water that could pierce muscle and shatter bone swept over the giant, washing away the toxic green flames and neutralizing the acidic gas in the air. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"My turn!" Celestia stepped forward, her blonde hair whipping in the wind. The temperature plummeted. [High Ice Magic: Glacial Lance].

Dozens of massive ice spears, thick as cathedral pillars, materialized in the air and launched forward, piercing deep into the Treant’s rotting bark, freezing its sap and slowing its movements.

CRASH!

The Treant retaliated, swinging a massive, burning branch down upon them.

"I’ve got it!" Bordon roared. He slammed his tower shield into the earth. [Earth Arts: Aegis Avatar].

The earth rumbled, and a colossal, translucent mana giant formed around Bordon. The world’s sturdiest shield clashed head-on with the tree branch. The ground cratered under Bordon’s feet, but the mana giant held firm, completely halting the boss’s attack.

"Now, Elisha!"

Elisha leaped onto the mana giant’s shoulder, drawing her bowstring back until it hummed. Three red arrows glowed with volatile mana.

[Archery Arts: Crimson Burst Volley]

The explosive red arrows struck the Treant’s frozen joints in rapid succession.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The explosions shattered the frozen bark, blowing massive chunks of rotting wood into the air.

Through the smoke and raining debris, Kael dashed forward. His golden aura flared brilliantly, cutting through the darkness of the dungeon. The future Sword Saint leaped off a falling piece of debris, launching himself directly at the monster’s exposed chest cavity.

[Golden Sword Art: First Form - Dawn Strike]

A crescent wave of pure, holy light cleaved through the air, leaving a massive, glowing gash across the Treant’s torso.

I watched the spectacle through the scope of my Winchester, lowering the rifle slightly.

In the game, the Protagonist Party grew exponentially stronger with each major event. Watching them fight in perfect synergy now, I realized just how fast their growth rate was.

They still couldn’t hold a candle to a Count-rank Demon, but it wasn’t an exaggeration to say they were at least twice as strong as they were during the Theme Park incident. Their coordination was flawless.

’It must be hell for their opponents,’ I thought, resting my finger on the trigger.

But this was not just another Dungeon. And the Blight-Root wasn’t just a big tree.

"Oliver," I said without looking back. "Cast a purification barrier. Now."

"H-Huh?"

SQUELCH.

From the massive gash Kael had just created, thousands of dark, parasitic vines shot out like vipers, lunging directly at the airborne Kael.

"I’ll cover your blind spots," I muttered, and squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

The Winchester roared. A high-caliber round, infused with a fraction of my mana, tore through the acidic air and shattered the cluster of vines mere inches from Kael’s face.

Kael landed safely, glancing back at my ridge with a complex expression before diving back into the fray.

BOOM! CRASH!

The Protagonist Party was a well-oiled machine. Elisha’s explosive arrows tore away the Treant’s regenerative bark, while Celestia’s ice spears pinned its massive roots to the rotting earth. Bordon held the frontline like a moving fortress, and Mariella’s continuous purification magic kept the toxic miasma at bay.

"Oh, to fight so well against a boss monster. The youth of this era are truly terrifying."

A voice, dry as autumn leaves, drifted into my ears.

I froze.

A presence had materialized directly behind me. I hadn’t sensed any footsteps, no displacement of air, not even a ripple in the mana field. But I had felt something a split second before the voice spoke—an aura that was intimately familiar, yet entirely foreign.

I spun around, aiming the Winchester at the intruder’s chest.

Standing there was a figure draped in a tattered, worn robe. The fabric was covered in a century’s worth of soot and ash, but beneath the grime, the cut and material betrayed an innate, austere nobility.

"Who are you?" I demanded, keeping my finger on the trigger.

The figure lowered his hood. He was a man with hollowed cheeks and eyes that held the weary weight of countless battles.

"I’m just a nameless revolutionary," he smiled faintly, leaning against a dead tree. "A castaway who has been struggling for years to escape this eternally rotting forest."

I scrutinized him, my eyes narrowing. As the toxic wind blew against his cloak, the soot shifted, revealing a faded insignia embroidered over his heart.

It was a crest depicting a cloaked figure holding twin firearms crossed over a radiant sun.

My eyes twitched.

"That crest..." I muttered. "Are you a Holy Assassin? The Executioner?"

At my words, the nameless revolutionary paused. He looked down at his own chest, pondering the title for several seconds.