The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen-Chapter 307: The name you’re calling (1)

In the darkness, Mikhail stood alone.

Head bowed.

He paid no attention to me as I descended into the basement, instead taking deep, labored breaths while gripping an old sword.

Following the original flow of the novel, that sword should have already been broken, yet here Mikhail stood, holding it in a long, oppressive silence, only reacting to my presence with mute stillness.

“...”

“Misa?”

“...”

There was no response from Mikhail.

I felt a little disappointed by his indifference, especially since we were supposed to be friends. But given the circumstances, I decided to let it slide. After all, he was still standing, and I was grateful for that.

It was the kind of affection you develop over time—a rough sort, not tender or sweet. Thinking back to our time at the academy, I wasn’t expecting any warm memories, but the bond of friendship we shared, as well as my love for this story as a reader, drove me to come and save him. For that, I offered Mikhail my silent thanks.

“...”

I muttered softly to myself, staring at Mikhail. “So, what kind of trick has the Archbishop pulled on you?”

Knowing the Archbishop of Forgetfulness, he wouldn’t have let Mikhail go without messing with him in some twisted way.

The large-scale illusion magic spread across the abandoned village was already proof that he was planning something big. But what, I couldn’t quite guess.

“Hah... It’s almost time to give the young lady her snack.”

Grumbling quietly to myself, I took a step closer to the unresponsive Mikhail. And then...

The darkness began to shift.

The space changed.

To be precise, it was a large-scale illusion magic.

“So, it’s an illusion...”

The once dark basement began to reek of magic, shifting into a scene from old memories.

The sky turned blue.

The dusty slums of childhood appeared before me.

"Damn it."

Had I let my guard down for just a moment, caught up in the nostalgia? A cold wind suddenly blew from my right.

I frowned, dodging the wind easily, and felt warm blood trickling down my cheek.

"Blood?"

I stepped back, eyes widening as I looked toward the source of the wind.

It was Mikhail.

Expressionless, holding his sword without a trace of emotion.

“No... Misa...?”

I didn’t expect him to be happy to see me, but to swing a sword at me? That was going a bit far.

I glanced at the sword in Mikhail’s hand, letting out a sigh. The attack was clearly meant to kill—there was no doubt in my mind. His intent was clear, and I responded with a bitter smile and another sigh.

“Misa.”

“...”

“You really shouldn’t be scaring people like this. That’s not why I taught you swordsmanship.”

About a minute passed in silence.

“You.”

Mikhail finally broke his silence with a cold voice.

“Who are you?”

“...Me?”

“Who are you to speak to me like we’re close?”

My mind went blank for a moment.

What was going on?

I had anticipated that the Archbishop might manipulate Mikhail’s memories to make him attack me or even turn me into his enemy. But to create a familiar setting from his memories and completely erase Ricardo from those memories? That was something I hadn’t expected.

‘So, this is his game?’

The Archbishop’s trick was unexpectedly clever. I shook my head, letting out a deep sigh. Unexpected variables were never pleasant.

Mikhail, who had been staring blankly at me, spoke again in that cold tone.

“How do you know my name?”

“...”

“Answer me.”

‘How much does he remember?’

I carefully asked [N O V E L I G H T] Mikhail a question.

“You told me before.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“I never even told Aguminyuk that...”

“It’s Iminhyuk, not Aguminyuk.”

“How do you know Iku Minhyuk?”

“He’s my friend.”

“Hmm... Hmmm...”

Mikhail, still frowning and staring at me, eventually nodded as if he didn’t care and placed a finger to his lips.

“Anyway, be careful.”

“Yes.”

“And don’t tell Eku Minhyuk.”

“I understand.”

Despite being the person in question, Mikhail insisted on keeping it a secret, which nearly made me laugh. But seeing how serious he was, I bit my tongue.

‘This won’t be easy.’

After talking to him a bit more, it became clear that Mikhail’s memories had regressed to his childhood—to the time we spent together in the slums.

It was a time before he met Ricardo at the academy, before he went to the convent. Mikhail, living in those memories, smiled brightly and gripped my hand tightly.

“Follow me.”

“...What?”

“Come on, follow me. You came to see Ook Minhyuk, didn’t you?”

“...Why does his name keep changing? He has a perfectly good...”

“Shh!”

Mikhail completely ignored my protests and continued confidently.

“We were supposed to beg together today. He gets really mad if I’m late. We need to hurry.”

Hearing Mikhail call my name like that brought an awkward smile to my face, and I felt conflicted.

‘What should I do?’

The illusion magic could be dispelled easily enough.

A magic designed to invoke nostalgic memories was no real threat. What bothered me, however, was...

“Hurry up!”

The problem was Mikhail’s memory.

If I wasn’t careful, he could fall into a panic. And if I tried to erase the Archbishop’s magic with my own power, there was no telling what might happen. I had to be cautious.

‘This is tricky.’

The most straightforward solution was to kill the caster of the dark magic.

In this situation, brute force seemed like the safest option.

Mikhail tugged at my sleeve, looking up at me.

“Hey...?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“...Me?”

What should I say?

“Ricardo.”

“Wow, what a terrible name. Sounds like you’ve got a really bad personality.”

“That really hurts, you know.”

“Pfft...”

Seeing Mikhail hide a smirk, I nodded slightly. Whatever had been done to him, I had to play along with his antics if I wanted to resolve this smoothly.

It seemed like the only way to solve this mess was to humor him.

So, I let him lead me by the sleeve, following along as she gripped my hand tightly.

‘She looks so small like this.’

Despite his rough exterior, Mikhail’s hand was small and delicate, as though it might break if held too tightly.

Mikhail, who had been staring blankly at our hands, snapped at me as if to wake me up.

“Ricardo.”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever begged before?”

“Uh... no?”

I had never begged since taking on the name Ricardo, so technically, that wasn’t a lie.

Mikhail looked at me and snickered, puffing out his chest as if he were about to show off. His steps grew more confident, like he was a senior trying to impress a newcomer.

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“Just follow my lead, then.”

“Got it.”

“You have to use a shiny cup to beg.”

“Okay.”

“And you have to crush it underfoot so it looks really pitiful.”

“Good to know.”

As Mikhail went on explaining the intricacies of begging, he suddenly stopped walking when we entered a familiar alleyway.

“Huh...?”

And then.

He froze in place, standing still as if he were terrified. Mikhail couldn’t take his eyes off a corner of the alley.

I asked him what was wrong.

“What’s the matter?”

“...Something’s off.”

Mikhail was trembling.

He stared blankly down the empty alley, his body shaking.

“Something’s off.”

“What’s off?”

“Something’s off... something’s off...”

Mikhail kept repeating the same words, then began tugging at his hair and crouching down.

“Minhyuk isn’t here.”

“Sorry?”

“He should be here... right here.”

Mikhail pointed at an empty tin can, his eyes shaking with confusion.

“Minhyuk should be right here.”

“...”

“Minhyuk...”

Mikhail, mumbling to himself, suddenly threw the tin can to the ground and started running.

“Where are you going?!”

He ran.

Desperately.

With a panicked expression, Mikhail started sprinting as if he had suddenly remembered something long forgotten.

“Minhyuk is in danger.”

“You could at least tell me where you’re going!”

“Minhyuk is in danger... because of me.”

‘Damn it.’

What danger was he talking about?

I was standing here, perfectly fine.

Watching Mikhail run off into the distance, I bit my lip.

“Ugh... it hurts.”

Mikhail tripped, falling to the ground and clutching his scraped knees, his face twisted in pain. Despite that, his expression remained filled with urgency as he continued staring down the street.

“Hah... Why are you suddenly running off like that? You gave me quite a scare.”

I sighed as I hurried over to Mikhail, who had fallen. For multiple reasons, I couldn’t just leave him be.

“Let go of me...!”

“Are you alright?”

“Don’t act all familiar with me, you ugly...!”

“That’s kind of hurtful.”

Mikhail pushed away my outstretched hand and started running again.

To somewhere familiar.

To the place where my childhood ended.

“Minhyuk!”

Mikhail was running.

‘Damn it, I really don’t like this kind of thing.’

“Ook Minhyuk!”

No matter how many times I corrected him, he couldn’t seem to say the name right. Shaking my head, I followed him into the trap the Archbishop had laid.

Whatever he had prepared.

“...”

This time, I was determined to see it through to the end.

The damn rain was falling again.

True to his title as the Archbishop of Forgetfulness, the vivid recreation of old memories in this illusion made me laugh bitterly.

“Huff... Huff...”

Mikhail, drenched in sweat, panted heavily, his shoulders trembling.

“...Huh?”

His gaze was fixed in one direction.

I watched Mikhail’s trembling shoulders and muttered softly to myself.

‘It’s been a while... this place.’

The place where I had spent the longest time with Mikhail, and also the place where we had parted in the worst way possible. Standing beneath the gloomy shadow cast by the old bridge, I closed my eyes tightly.

And then.

“Minhyuk!!!!”

Mikhail’s scream pierced the air.

I looked ahead.

There, squatting with his foot on my childhood self’s head, was a middle-aged man.

When our eyes met, the middle-aged man grinned.

“Long time no see, kid.”

He greeted me with a twisted smile.