The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 502: Pawn

Bianca collapsed onto her side, writhing as the pain escalated beyond the capacity of the human mind to process.

She began to hyperventilate, her lungs pulling in air that felt like liquid lead. Her skin began to flush a deep, angry red, the first blisters forming on her arms as the internal heat began to seek an exit through her pores.

She was a broken thing, gasping and choking on her own agony.

Eris approached her. She moved with a slow, deliberate grace, her boots clicking softly against the floor.

She stood over the writhing, weeping woman and watched. She wasn’t smiling.

She wasn’t enjoying the screams in the way Vetra might have. Her expression was clinical, almost academic.

How did she think she could win? Eris wondered.

She looked down at Bianca and felt a strange, hollow astonishment.

They had stood in a garden once, long before the trial, and the result had been the same.

Bianca had lost then, and she had lost now.

Yet she had returned, brainwashed and desperate, believing that a few months of dark spells could overcome a thousand years of dragon blood.

It was almost admirable, the sheer audacity of it. But mostly, it was pitiful.

Bianca was a pawn. She had been used by Viktor, used by Vetra, and now used by her own delusions.

She was so desperate to matter, so eager to be the protagonist of a story she didn’t understand, that she had traded her life for a chance to be a foot-note in Eris’s reign.

Eris could have ended it then. One flick of her wrist and Bianca’s heart would have exploded into steam. But Bianca had threatened Rael. She had spoken of the fragility of children.

A quick death was a mercy Eris was not prepared to give. She kept the heat just high enough to torment, but not high enough to kill.

She watched Bianca claw at her own skin, a predator playing with a mouse, ensuring the prey felt every second of its own failure.

"You really believed you could hurt me," Eris said, her voice clear and carrying even through Bianca’s sobbing.

She shook her head in genuine disbelief. "After everything that has happened, you still thought you stood a chance."

Bianca couldn’t answer. She was hanging by a thread, her systems shutting down one by one, her awareness fading into a dark, pulsing red. Please, her mind begged. Stop. Please.

"That’s not confidence, Bianca," Eris continued, her voice a death sentence. "That’s delusion. Vetra didn’t make you strong; she made you desperate. And desperate people always die stupid deaths."

Eris looked at the broken girl on the floor.

She could finish the execution, but she saw the state of Bianca’s body, the blisters, the internal damage, the absolute collapse of her spirit. To kill her now would be too easy. It would be a release.

No, Eris thought. Death is for the brave. You will live with the memory of this failure.

She began to reduce the heat, slowly allowing Bianca’s blood to cool back to a survivable, if agonizing, temperature. She would be a prisoner.

She would spend the rest of her days in a lightless hole, reminded every time she tried to draw a breath of the day she tried to touch the sun.

The sound of rapid footsteps echoed down the hall. A squad of palace guards rounded the corner, their weapons drawn and their faces masks of shock. They stopped dead at the sight of their Empress standing over a charred, writhing figure on the floor.

"Your Majesty!" the Captain cried, stepping forward as he took in the carnage. "What—what happened here?"

Eris didn’t look at him. She didn’t take her eyes off Bianca. "Take her," she commanded, her voice like iron. "Lock her up. Maximum security. No visitors, no exceptions. If she dies, you answer to me."

The Captain hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the distant roar of battle. "Your Majesty... the creatures. The attack in the hall. We should—"

"I will handle it," Eris interrupted, finally looking at him. The gold in her eyes was so intense that the Captain took an involuntary step back. "Do what I asked. Now."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

The guards moved with frantic efficiency, lifting the limp, barely conscious Bianca. She didn’t resist. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

She couldn’t even speak. As they dragged her away, her head lolled back, her blurred vision catching one last glimpse of Eris standing victorious in the center of the ruin.

Eris stood alone in the quiet corridor for a moment, her breath evening out. But the peace was an illusion.

Inside her, Pyronox was pacing. The dragon was no longer a silent observer; he was restless, a beast in a cage that had finally caught the scent of its ancient enemies. The serpents were near, and the dragon wanted to hunt.

Sit still, you old man, Eris thought, a flash of irritation sparking in her chest. Now you stir? Now you want to talk?

For weeks, she had tried to reach him. She had asked questions into the void of her own mind, seeking guidance, seeking history, seeking anything other than a snarl.

He had ignored her. But the moment his ancient rivals appeared, he was suddenly active, suddenly present.

Typical, she thought. You only care about the things you can kill. You don’t care about the questions I have.

She pushed the irritation aside. She didn’t have time to argue with a ghost. Bianca was dealt with. Rael was safe in the tower. Now, there was only one priority left.

Soren.

She turned and began to run. She didn’t care about the debris or the bodies; she moved with a desperate, burning urgency back toward the Tribunal Hall.

The sounds were getting louder, not just the roaring, but the sound of ice shattering and the thunder of magical impacts.

When she emerged into the Great Hall, her heart stopped.

The battlefield was unrecognizable.

What had been a majestic room was now a graveyard of stone and frost.