The Villainess is my fiance: But she is gentle towards me-Chapter 230 -: It’s You!!

Ravan burst out of the castle balcony like a storm breaking free.

Cold air slammed into his face. The snow stung his skin. His long coat snapped behind him as he shot into the sky.

His heart was beating too fast.

"Why are they attacking so early..." he muttered. His voice shook slightly, but he tried to steady it.

They had fought just a week ago. Both sides had lost men. Both sides had pulled back.

Normally, there would be time. One month. Sometimes two. Time to rest. Time to gather strength.

But not today.

"Damn it... why now?" His teeth ground together hard enough to hurt.

He had been waiting for news from the Zakir Empire. Just one message. One sign of support.

Instead, he got a bell.

He flew faster. The air screamed past his ears.

Ahead of him, he saw a figure cutting through the sky.

"Zaphir!" Ravan shouted.

Zaphir stopped midair and turned around quickly. His face was pale. His eyes were wide.

"Brother...?" he said.

Seven years had changed him. Deep scars crossed his face. One ran from his forehead to his cheek. His left sleeve hung empty, tied at the end.

That arm had been cut off by Duke Vined in the second year of war.

He almost died that day.

Ravan stopped in front of him, breathing hard.

"Where is the Clown? And that thing?" His voice was low, tight.

Those two were unstable. But they were their strongest pieces.

"They already went to the wall," Zaphir replied quickly. He kept his head slightly lowered. Respect. Habit.

"And Ahiravan?" Ravan asked at once. His eyes were sharp now.

"He is there too."

Ravan let out a slow breath. A little relief, but not much.

"We need him to hold off Vined," Ravan said. His jaw tightened again. "If Vined pushes through, we will be forced back."

Zaphir nodded.

Ravan looked toward the distant wall.

"Let’s go. We just need to hold today."

His voice was firm, but inside he felt the pressure crushing his chest.

They shot forward again.

Whosh. Whosh. Whosh.

The sound of air breaking behind them followed like ghosts.

Snowflakes hit their faces and melted instantly.

As they flew, Ravan spoke again without looking at Zaphir.

"Listen carefully."

Zaphir focused at once.

"We are not fighting to win today," Ravan said. His voice was cold now. Clear. "We are only holding them back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, brother."

"There is no point in risking everything," Ravan continued. "Our only goal is to stop them until we get a response from Zakir."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"If Zakir moves... Indrath will have to pull back."

He did not say the rest.

’If Zakir does not move... we are alone.’

After a few more minutes, the massive northern wall came into view.

It stood tall and wide, built from dark stone. Snow covered its top. Torches burned along the edges, fighting against the cold wind.

Soldiers were running everywhere. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Messengers shouted.

Archers lined up along the wall.

On the ground below, three cavalry battalions were already in formation. Horses stomped the frozen earth. Their breath rose like smoke into the cold air.

The sound of distant war drums echoed faintly from beyond the horizon.

Boom... boom... boom...

Ravan felt his stomach twist.

"They are serious," Zaphir whispered.

Ravan narrowed his eyes.

Far in the distance, dark shapes were moving.

An army.

Large.

Organized.

Slow.

Confident.

"This time it will be hard," Ravan said quietly. His hands clenched again. "They came prepared."

His eyes searched the sky above the enemy lines.

He was looking for one thing.

One terrifying presence.

Ravan swallowed.

"Take position on the east side," he ordered. His voice was calm now. Too calm. "I will watch the center."

Zaphir hesitated for half a second. "Brother... if things go wrong—"

Ravan cut him off.

"They will not go wrong."

But his eyes did not carry that same certainty. The wind grew stronger.

Snow blew harder.

The soldiers on the wall noticed Ravan and began shouting.

"The lord is here!"

"The lord!"

Some fear left their faces.

Ravan floated above the wall, looking down at his army.

They looked tired. Thinner than before.

But they were still standing. He slowly drew in a breath.

"We just need to survive today," he told himself.

Beyond the snowstorm, the enemy banners became clearer.

And then—

A sudden surge of pressure filled the air.

The pressure was heavy.

Not just heavy on the body.

Heavy on the mind.

The air felt thick. Hard to breathe. Even the horses below began to panic, stamping their hooves, shaking their heads.

Ravan exhaled slowly as the force pressed against his shoulders.

"...Clown," he murmured.

He turned toward the eastern sky.

There, floating alone above the wall, was a thin man with messy black hair and a painted clown mask.

The mask was cracked near the eye. Snow landed on his shoulders but did not stay.

He was not looking at the wall. He was staring far beyond it. His head tilted slightly.

"He is here..." the Clown whispered to himself.

His voice trembled. Not from fear.

From excitement.

"I have been waiting for you... heaven’s child."

Ravan frowned.

"What are you talking about?" he muttered, then flew toward him.

He stopped a few steps away in the air.

"Clown," Ravan said firmly, "you must injure Duke Sant today. No matter what."

His voice was rough, but there was hope in it.

If Kamesh Sant was wounded... even slightly... it would buy time. Time was everything right now.

Ravan’s eyes sharpened as he looked at the distant army moving forward like a black wave across the snow.

Then he looked back at the Clown.

For seven years, this unstable man had obeyed him. No matter how strange he acted, no matter how dangerous he felt, he always followed orders.

So if the Clown attacked Sant—

"This will decide our fate," Ravan said. "You must inju—"

"Kekekekekek..."

The laugh cut through the wind.

Ravan stopped mid sentence.

The Clown’s shoulders shook as he laughed. The sound was sharp. Wrong. Almost joyful.

"Today," the Clown said slowly, "I am not going to fight that old man."

Ravan’s heart dropped.

"...What?"

"There is someone else," the Clown continued. "Kekeke..."

Ravan’s voice lowered. "Who? Vined?"

The Clown chuckled and slowly removed his long coat.

The coat slipped from his shoulders and fell to the snow below.

His thin body looked almost fragile. He flexed his wrists once.

Crack.

Crack.

His gaze locked onto the horizon. Ravan followed his line of sight. He saw nothing.

Just snow.

Just sky.

"Are you—" Ravan began.

Then his eyes narrowed. A thin line of light flashed in the distance.

For a second, it looked like the sky had split.

Then—

BOOM.

A bolt of lightning tore across the clouds, moving fast. Not downward.

Sideways. Toward them. Ravan’s face lost all color.

His pupils shrank.

"No..."

The pressure in the air increased instantly. Stronger. Cleaner. Sharper.

This was not Sant. This was not Vined.

This was different.

The Clown lifted off the air slowly. His breathing became faster. His hands trembled.

Not from fear.

From joy.

He began rising higher, moving toward the storm.

"Today..." he said softly.

"My opponent is the heaven’s child."

The lightning cracked again. The sky darkened further.

The Clown shot upward toward the lightning without fear.

The lightning streaked across the sky like a living blade. Fast. Wild.

But the Clown was not slower.

He kept pace with it easily.

"Kekekekekek... come, heaven’s child!" he shouted. "Today, I shall be your opponent!"

The lightning suddenly accelerated.

The air screamed.

Snow was blown away from the sky as if pushed aside by an invisible hand.

Then—

It stopped.

Just a few meters away from the Clown.

The sky trembled.

Ravan narrowed his eyes and flew closer, though he kept some distance. The pressure around that lightning was sharp. It stung his skin.

"Who is this..." he muttered.

The Clown stopped as well, floating calmly in front of the storm.

"Come out, heaven’s child," he said softly. "Let me see you."

Ravan felt something strange in his chest.

Heaven’s child.

That name.

He had heard it before from the clown. But he could not remember clearly.

His heart began to beat faster.

"Is it some new Grandmaster..." he whispered.

If Indrath had raised someone in secret for years...

If they had sent him now...

Then this was not just an attack.

This could be the end.

"Come out!" Ravan shouted, unable to hide the tension in his voice.

Crackle.

Crackle.

The lightning flickered violently as if responding.

The sky darkened.

Then—

BOOM!

The lightning exploded outward in a blinding flash.

Wind blasted in all directions. Snow was thrown into the air like dust.

And in the center of the fading light—

A figure stood.

Lightning still danced around his body like it belonged to him.

He did not look angry. He did not look excited.

He looked... certain.

The moment Ravan saw his face—His breath stopped.

His eyes widened so much they hurt. His mind went blank for a second.

"It’s you...!!"