Villainess X Villain: They are obsessed with each other!-Chapter 57 -: 56 Stop the trial.[2]

The Guillotine snapped his fingers with a sharp click.

A glowing blue screen appeared in the air right in front of everyone, like a magic hologram floating above the table.

Clear faces popped up one by one.

The Commander of the Paladins.

The elegant Matriarch of the Hayes Clan.

The Dean of the Royal Arcane Academy.

And two senior professors of the Royal Arcane Academy.

"These are the real threats," The Guillotine said, pointing at the screen.

"The most powerful people who will actually be at the Saint Trial tomorrow."

He leaned forward, voice steady.

"The church devotees won’t fight, except for the Paladins. The royal family stays out of it too, their strongest generals have already been ’baptized’ by the church, so they’re loyal to the faith."

He looked around at the five dangerous men.

"So it all comes down to these five."

Zalanara, the big scarred leader of the Black Knights, frowned deeply while listening.

"What about the other two ancient clans?" he asked.

"The Thorne Clan and the Valentina Clan? They didn’t send anyone strong?"

The Guillotine shook his head.

"No. They sent people, sure... but every single one of them is below Void Core stage. Weak compared to us. We don’t have to worry about them at all."

He paused, letting the room feel the weight of his next words.

"Here’s my plan."

He pointed at himself first.

"I’ll take the Matriarch of the Hayes Clan. She passed the Second Heavenly Trial, just like me. We’re evenly matched."

Then he looked at the bulky man covered in scars.

"Zalanara, you handle the Dean of the Royal Arcane Academy. You’re built for that kind of fight."

Next, he nodded toward the plain-faced man with the wide nose and the white-haired Deadly Twin.

"Repear and Ron, you two will hold off the two senior professors. Keep them busy and out of the way."

Finally, his eyes locked onto the bored-looking man with blue hair and mismatched eyes, one pure white, one pure black.

"And most important of all..."

The Guillotine’s voice dropped lower, almost respectful.

"For this to actually work...Sir Visionary...

You must hold off the Commander of the Paladins."

The room went dead silent.

The Visionary didn’t move. He just kept staring ahead with that same bored expression, like someone had asked him to watch paint dry.

But everyone felt it, the air got heavier the moment those words landed.

The Visionary stayed quiet for a long moment.

Everyone else in the room stayed quiet too. The only sound that echoed was their regular breathing.

They all waited, eyes on the blue-haired man with the mismatched eyes.

Finally, The Visionary spoke in his calm, almost lazy voice.

"What about the saint candidate?"

The Guillotine let out a small, relieved breath. ’At least he’s listening to the plan,’ he thought.

He nodded and turned toward the younger twin.

"For that... we have Kon."

Kon, the black-haired Deadly Twin, didn’t react much. He just gave a tiny nod, arms crossed.

"His stealth spells are the best we’ve ever seen," The Guillotine continued.

"While the rest of us keep the big threats busy, buying time and drawing attention, Kon slips in unnoticed. He finds the saint candidate... and ends it. Quick and clean."

He finished and looked around the table, searching their faces for agreement.

No one looked happy.

Every single one of them had the same gloomy frown, the kind that said, ’This is way too risky.’ But they all knew there was no better option.

Ron, the white-haired older twin, finally broke the silence after thinking it over.

"Do we actually need to kill our enemies?" he asked carefully. "Or just delay them?"

The Guillotine gave a small, tired smile and shook his head.

"No need to kill them," he said clearly.

"If you get a clean chance, sure, take it. But our real job is simpler: hold them off."

"Keep them pinned down long enough for Kon to do his part. Create the opening. That’s all we need."

He leaned back a little.

"Delay the Paladin Commander. Tie up the Matriarch. Block the Dean and the professors. Give Kon the window. "

"If we pull that off... the Saint Trial ends before it even really starts. No new saint."

The Visionary tilted his head slightly.

That bored look never left his face, but his different-colored eyes glinted just a little, like he was already picturing the chaos.

He didn’t say anything more.

He didn’t have to.

The others exchanged quick glances.

Zalanara cracked his scarred knuckles.

Ron looked at his younger brother Kon, who just gave the tiniest shrug, like this was just another job.

"Ahem!"

Reaper cleared his throat softly. The tiny sound cut through the heavy silence like a pin dropping in a quiet room.

Everyone’s eyes turned to him.

"Um..." Repear hesitated.

He looked like he was about to say something he really shouldn’t. His fingers tapped nervously on the table.

"Go on, Reaper," The Guillotine said with an encouraging smile. "We’re all listening."

Reaper coughed again, louder this time, and finally spoke.

"I was saying... what if we aren’t able to kill the saint candidate...?"

The room went dead quiet again.

You could almost hear everyone’s hearts skip a beat.

The Guillotine forced a smile, but it looked stiff and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to answer—

"Then you guys would need to come under me!"

The Visionary cut in before anyone else could speak. His voice was calm, certain, and carried zero doubt.

Everyone whipped their heads toward him.

Different expressions flashed across their faces, shock, suspicion, curiosity, even a flicker of anger, but no one interrupted.

The Visionary leaned forward slightly.

His mismatched eyes, one pure white, one pure blac, suddenly shone with a bright, almost hungry light.

"That Pope will massacre everyone if a saint actually appears," he said flatly.

"She will make sure to uproot every threat posed at the holy empire once a true saint appears, and trust me you don’t want to know what that woman looks like when she starts a slaughter."

He paused, letting the brutal truth sink in.

Then he looked around the table slowly, meeting every pair of eyes.

"If you want to live..."

His lips curled into a small, dangerous smile.

"...then be my underlings."