Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 60: Good Kids

***

{Inside The Projection}

"We don’t care."

Safira stepped closer. Her blue eyes unwavering.

"You saved us. You’re strong. You know things we don’t. That’s enough."

Jasmine nodded.

"Please. We’ll learn. We’ll work hard. Just… let us learn from you."

Malik sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I’m flattered, but—"

"Please."

Their voices were quiet but resolute, their eyes both determined and vulnerable.

Malik groaned and glanced at the side, spotting Sinbad leaning on a mushroom’s stalk.

"You should do it, big brother~. Don’t you want to replace me?"

He shook his head, dispelling the illusion.

"Fine... I’ll be your… whatever. But master...? You’re no slave. Call me teacher."

""Thank—""

"But!"

He cut them off, getting back at them like a child.

"Only until we’re out of here. Once we’re in the clear, it’s over. Got it?"

They nodded eagerly, their faces lighting up.

"Good."

Malik sighed and looked away, muttering under his breath.

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"What the hell am I getting myself into…"

He took a beat, then glanced at the map again, plotting their next move.

"Alright—let’s get moving. We’ve got a long way to go, and I’m not babysitting you forever."

They fell into step behind him, their spirits seemingly lifted despite the daunting path ahead.

And as they began their trek toward the south dunes, he couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth.

For better or worse, he wasn’t alone anymore.

...

"...You still didn’t tell us your name."

Malik looked at the bathed Safira, who now wore freshly cut male clothes.

He was about to reply, but before he could, Jasmine asked:

"I-Is it, like, some kinda secret or something?"

He shook his head.

"What? No, it’s fine. Just didn’t find the right moment. Anyway, it’s Malik."

Safira froze.

And Malik caught it.

A look that screamed absolute, bone-deep fear.

It wasn’t just that, though. It was disdain. Hate. Fury.

Like someone had just killed her family and used their faces as masks.

It was so out of place, he almost did a double take.

This was Safira—the little one who acted ’carefree’ ever since they met.

And yet, there she was.

For a heartbeat... then—poof.

Gone. Just like that.

By the time Jasmine turned to ask, "What’s up?" Her face was back to her usual demeanor as if nothing happened.

"Nothing."

Malik almost thought he imagined it.

Almost.

But no. He’d seen it. Clear as day.

’...Why? Does she know me?’

He wanted to ask but knew better than to.

Digging into that wasn’t a can of worms he wanted to open right now.

And it wasn’t something he liked either.

"H-Hey teach..."

Safira stammered suddenly, her voice desperate.

"Is Malik, like, a super common name where you’re from?"

He narrowed his eyes just a little.

The suspicion meter in his brain ticked up a notch, but he played it cool.

"Not really. Can’t say I’ve met anyone else with my name before."

Safira looked down, her face tense.

"I… I see."

Jasmine, bless her oblivious little heart, immediately jumped in with a subject change so clumsy it almost made him laugh:

"So, Teacher, since you’re a noble and all that… Did you, uh, ever meet the Sultan?"

Malik raised an eyebrow at her, but hey, whether obvious or not, distraction accepted.

"Nope. Don’t even know his name."

He didn’t bother correcting her about his "nobility."

There was no need to.

It just better explained his position.

Though, if he were honest... it was mainly because he was too lazy to explain.

But funnily enough, his answer would’ve been a lie either way.

Quite ironic really.

Malik did in fact meet the Sultan and he did know his name.

Cyrus.

He just didn’t know that he did.

"Me neither~."

Safira got her act together and skipped ahead, totally ignoring Malik’s careful attempts to safely guide them through the Ghabeh.

"Y-Y-You can’t do thaaaat!"

Judging by Jasmine’s reaction, Safira’s antics could be considered disrespectful.

Malik didn’t though, he cared not for the stiffness of the old.

She was free to enjoy her freedom... and enjoy it she did, practically radiating confidence.

The girl poked at strange, tiny mushrooms and peered into hollow logs.

She acted as if Ghabeh was her home’s little playground.

Jasmine, on the other hand, stuck close to Malik.

Her steps were cautious, eyes flicking nervously at every rustle or creak around them.

But even then, she never said a word of complaint.

Even as her grip on the hem of his clothes made it clear she was ready to bolt if something jumped out.

Malik let out a small sigh.

’One’s too reckless but is more afraid; the other’s too cautious but is braver. Perfect balance, I guess.’

"...Teach teach."

Safira called back, her voice brimming with excitement.

"What’s Aether really like? Is it like magic from those novels?"

Malik chuckled.

"Aether is much more than magic. It’s the very essence of what is and isn’t. The flow that binds the cosmos together. Everything you see, touch, breathe, and feel carries Aether within it."

Jasmine tilted her head curiously.

"Even us?"

"Especially us."

He ruffled her hair.

"We Magi are unique because we can harness it, shape it, and make it our own."

The girls exchanged glances, their curiosity ignited.

Safira tugged on his hand.

"Tell us more! Like… how does it work?"

Malik gestured for them to follow and stepped into a small clearing.

One where shafts of starlight just began to dance on the forest floor.

"Aether starts as a neutral energy like the breeze that stirs these trees."

He crouched, drawing in the dirt with his finger.

"But we Magi transform it into something personal—our Aspect. These are like a reflection of what our path is, a combination of abilities."

{Neutral Aether > Aether Conversion > Absorbed Aether in Core > Abilities > Aspects > Divine Essence > Specialization.}

He pointed at the rough diagram, showing them each step from beginning to end.

"Now that you understand the basics, know this: every person has an Aether Core."

Malik tapped his chest for emphasis.

"It’s like a second heart, right here. It absorbs Aether, lets us control it, and gives us the power to shape our abilities. But it’s not just about raw strength—it’s about balance. Push yourself too far, and you could ’Turn Hollow,’ losing everything."

Jasmine’s eyes widened while Safira leaned in closer.

"So we have them too? Are they dormant or something?"

"What about the ranks? Like… how do we know who’s the strongest?"

Malik grinned.

"Right on the coin, Jasmine. And yeah, we’ve got the Divine Hierarchy. It’s how we Magi measure ourselves, or how the world measures us, I guess. At the bottom are the Nadhir, the Ascendants. They’re the first to cross the Aether threshold. Above them are the Jinn, the Seraphim, followed by the Mithqal—the Archons who regulate the balance of worlds."

"And then?"

Safira pressed.

"Then come the Malāk, the Paragons... the Angels."

Malik’s voice took on a note of reverence.

"They’re galaxy-level beings, the strongest most of us will ever meet. And at the top—"

"The Rukh."

Jasmine whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Malik nodded.

"The Apex... They are Gods, beings who shape reality itself, Magi of Laws. But even they are not the end."

"...W-What?"

"How can someone be stronger than GOD?!"

"Well, this isn’t something I’m sure of, but I’ve heard it from the local preachers... a rank beyond the Rukh… the Araaf. The Diviner of The Book."

He paused for a moment, feeling lightheaded just from mentioning the Title.

"The True Sultan is supposed to be one. A Cosmic Emperor who governs everything and writes the Laws themselves... but again, I can’t say for sure, so don’t take my word on that."

The girls stared at him, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and wonder.

"Can... can we become one of them?"

Safira’s question would’ve been laughed at by anyone else, but Malik?

No. He would never. After all... his goal wasn’t so different.

"...It is possible. If you’re brave enough to walk the path. Talented enough to ascend. Lucky enough to live. But remember, every step comes with a cost. Aether is a gift..."

His words took pause as he closed his eyes, seemingly remembering something, then continued as he opened them back up:

"But it demands much in return... too much at times."

Noticing his hurt, Jasmine did the same as earlier, asking about whatever came to mind.

She couldn’t have the insensitive Safira say anything that’d further ruin his mood.

"What about monsters? Do they use Aether too?"

His expression darkened slightly.

"Yes, but not like us. Monsters are bound to the Cursed Hierarchy. And they don’t just have one Aether Core—they have many, which makes them much stronger compared to us, especially later on."

He then went on to describe the stages, from the relatively weak Faryad to the Div, the Ṭāghiya, the Simurgh, the Zahhak, and finally, the Godlike Ahriman. 1

The girls listened intently, their faces now showing more fascination than fear.

And when he finished, Safira leaned back, grinning.

"I think I know what I want to be."

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?... And what might that be?"

She puffed out her chest.

"I want to be a Sahir and master the Life element! That way, I can heal you whenever you get hurt."

Malik smiled, his heart warming at her innocence.

It seemed that he totally forgot what happened just a few minutes ago.

"A noble choice!"

Jasmine tugged at his sleeve again, her voice quieter but no less determined.

"I want to be like you. A Dune Guardian."

Her decision caught him off guard.

"...Are you sure?

Malik knelt to meet her gaze.

"The desert is a harsh path."

Jasmine nodded.

"But I don’t want fire. I want ice. Opposites working together—that’d be cool, right?"

"..."

For a moment, he said nothing, lost in thought.

Then, he placed a hand on her shoulder, tapping it.

"Jasmine... You’ve got the spirit of a true Magi."

She beamed at him and her friend as their laughter rang through the forest.

’Safira doesn’t seem like it at times, but...’

He joined them, letting out a few chuckles of his own.

’They really are kids...’

The world remained dull, but these two retained their true colors. Blindingly bright.

’Good kids.’

[Faryad] - Youngling

(Cry or Call, representing their nascent stage and growing potential.)

[Div] - Fiend

(Demon or Devil in Persian folklore, embodying chaos and malevolence.)

[Ṭāghiya] - Tyrant

(Tyrant in the Arabic language, representing overwhelming dominance and destructive power.)

[Simurgh] - Behemoth

(Legendary Bird of Persian Mythology, symbolizing wisdom, mystery, and commanding presence.)

[Zahhak] - Chaos

(Commander of Demons in Persian mythology, a snake of chaos embodying the power to warp reality.)

[Ahriman] - Mythic

(Personification of Destruction and Evil in Persian mythology/Bible, a cosmic force that predates Creation itself.)