My Maids are All Final Villainesses-Chapter 28: Shadow Menace

The young man with an old man’s soul smiled in a way that did not belong to youth, the curve of his lips stretched too wide, too confident, too certain, as if the world itself had already been placed under his feet.

His eyes burned with a knowing that did not match the body he wore, and when he raised his hand, the air trembled as though it feared what would come next.

"Impressive," he said, his voice layered, deep and aged beneath the young tone. "Your movements are sharp, your instincts are keen, and your ability to hide within shadows is nothing short of extraordinary. For someone of your age, this is beyond talent. This is something cultivated through blood and death. I will admit it. You are a genius among assassins."

His fingers curled slightly, and the fire that had been raging in the air did not simply burn. It grew. It expanded. It thickened, as if the flames had weight, as if they carried intent and hunger.

"But unfortunately," he continued, his voice rising, filled with cruel amusement, "you met me."

The flames surged.

They did not move like normal fire. They bent. They twisted. They curved through the air like living creatures, chasing, hunting, seeking. Every path Cerys took, every attempt she made to sink into shadow, was met with a wall of burning heat that devoured the darkness before she could fully disappear.

Cerys moved fast.

Her body blurred, her steps light, her figure vanishing and reappearing in fragments as she leaped from one shadow to another. Her breath was steady, but her mind was racing.

He is burning the shadows themselves...

Every time she tried to slip away, the fire reached first. It did not hesitate. It did not slow. It erased the very place she intended to escape into.

The old man laughed.

"Yes, yes, run!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the burning space. "Let me see how far you can go! Let me see how long you can survive when the very thing you rely on is stripped away from you!"

The flames tightened.

They began to form a dome.

A prison.

Cerys darted to the side, her dagger flashing as she attempted to cut through a gap, but the moment her blade touched the fire, it hissed violently, forcing her back.

Her movements began to slow.

Not because she lacked strength, but because the heat was eating away at her stamina, her mana, her very ability to remain concealed.

The old man’s grin widened.

"There it is," he said, almost gently. "The limit."

His hand clenched.

The flames roared.

"Burning space!"

The fire did not simply expand. It compressed. It folded inward, collapsing upon itself and everything within it. The air screamed. The ground cracked. Even the light seemed to bend under the pressure.

Cerys was caught.

For the first time, her form became visible, her body outlined by the overwhelming blaze that swallowed her whole.

Her cloak burned.

Her skin was scorched.

Her breath caught in her throat as the heat pressed in from all sides, leaving no path, no shadow, no escape.

Then everything went still.

The fire settled.

The raging inferno died down into smoldering embers, the air thick with heat and ash.

The young man with the old soul stood there, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he slowly lowered his hand.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Now then..." he muttered.

He extended his senses, pushing his mana outward, layer by layer, scanning every inch of the scorched area.

A ripple of energy spread from him, sweeping across the ground, the air, the remnants of fire.

"Detection... resonance... spiritual trace..."

His voice was low, focused, careful.

He checked once.

Then again.

And again.

Each time, he searched deeper, more thoroughly, refusing to allow even the smallest mistake.

Minutes passed.

Finally, he let out a long breath.

"Dead," he said, almost whispering. "She’s gone."

Relief washed over his face.

His shoulders relaxed. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

His stance loosened.

"I told you," he muttered, speaking to himself, or perhaps to the voice within. "No matter how skilled, no matter how talented, there are limits. She was dangerous, yes, but in the end, a talent only became a waste in front of me."

Then—

He suddenly felt a sting.

It was small and barely noticeable at first, but now that he settled the battle, he felt continuous sharp prick at his leg.

His brows furrowed.

"What...?"

He looked down.

He saw Blood.

A thin line of red slowly spread across his skin.

His eyes widened.

"I... didn’t feel that..."

His heart skipped.

No...

A cold realization crept into his mind.

"Illusion poison...?"

His voice trembled.

His breathing quickened.

"Don’t tell me..."

He froze.

Everything around him seemed to slow.

The air grew heavy.

His vision blurred.

Then horrifyingly next—tt began to spin.

The world tilted, the ground shifted.

He felt... light.

Too light to be exact.

As if something had been removed.

As if something had separated.

His eyes widened further.

No...

Then he saw it.

His own body.

Standing there, headless. With blood spraying upward like a fountain.

And he—

He was above it.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Then—

Thud.

His head hit the ground.

It rolled.

Once.

Twice.

His vision turned sideways, then upside down, then still.

Darkness followed.

...

Meanwhile, far away, inside a grand room filled with soft light and quiet comfort, Clay lay on his bed.

His body was relaxed.

His breathing was steady.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind had found peace.

He was dreaming.

Around him stood several figures.

Women.

Their forms were elegant, their bodies curved, their presence warm and inviting. They wore maid uniforms that clung to them just enough to hint at their shapes, yet their faces remained unseen, hidden behind a veil of soft blur.

One of them leaned forward, holding a piece of fruit to his lips.

"Open your mouth, young master," she said sweetly.

Clay did not resist.

He took a bite.

The taste was perfect.

Juicy and absolutely refreshing.

Just like he wished it to.

Another giggled softly.

"Young master seems to enjoy himself."

A third stepped closer, brushing her fingers lightly against his shoulder.

"Of course he does. When was the last time he truly rested?"

Clay let out a satisfied sigh.

"This is nice," he murmured. "Why can’t things always be like this?"

They laughed.

Soft, melodic, teasing.

"Because, young master," one of them said, tilting her head, "you are not someone who can live such a simple life."

Another leaned in, her voice playful.

"But we can always make it feel that way for you."

They fed him more fruit.

One offered him a drink.

Another adjusted his pillow.

Each time he responded, they reacted with soft laughter, their voices overlapping in a gentle chorus.

"What do you think about your maid, young master?"

"What do you plan to do next?"

"Will you keep avoiding everything forever?"

Clay smirked slightly.

"I’ll do whatever keeps me alive," he said. "That’s all that matters."

They giggled again.

"So cautious."

"So careful."

"So afraid."

Clay frowned slightly.

Afraid?

"I’m not afraid," he muttered.

"You are," one of them said softly. "You just don’t want to admit it."

Another leaned closer.

"What about Cy?"

Clay blinked.

"Cy?"

"The one you sent away," she clarified. "The one you allowed to return to the Villainess."

Clay let out a small breath.

"She pledged herself to me," he said. "Assassins like her... once they choose a master, they don’t change."

"And the Villainess?"

Clay shrugged.

"She’ll deal with it."

The maids exchanged glances.

"And if something happens?"

Clay smirked.

"Then she’ll come back," he said. "And when she does... she’ll belong to me completely."

They giggled again.

"Young master is confident."

"Young master is selfish."

"Young master is... interesting."

Clay leaned back, letting himself relax further.

"This is enough," he said. "No more thinking. No more trouble. Just this."

The maids smiled.

"Then rest, young master."

"Rest as much as you like."

"We will take care of everything."

Clay closed his eyes.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then—

A sudden crisp, intrusive, and unwanted sound rang out.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emergency! Emergency! Emergency!

His eyes suddenly snapped open.

A glowing screen appeared before him, cutting through the dream like a blade.

His expression twisted instantly.

"Again!?" he shouted, his voice filled with pure frustration.