Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses-Chapter 85: The Girl who lost her mind

"We don’t really do much here, honestly. But do you have any experience with archery?" The guy I’d been told was the leader of this club asked. Alfred Elvan stood before me with an easy confidence that came naturally to someone in his position. His black hair was styled in that effortless way that suggested he’d run his fingers through it once and called it good, and his dark brown eyes held flecks of green that caught the light streaming through the massive glass ceiling above us. At about six foot two, he had a solid build that spoke of regular training, though now that I really looked at him, we were probably around the same height. Funny how I’d never noticed I was actually pretty tall myself.

"Yes... a little," I replied with what I hoped was a casual smile. Apart from Tracy, the dean, and that ripoff Emilia, nobody else knew about my supposed memory issues, so there was no need to put on an act for every random person I encountered. Still, I had to be careful about what information I let slip. You can never be too cautious in situations like these. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Alright then," Alfred said after a moment of consideration. He handed me a clipboard with a form attached and gestured toward someone across the room. "Fill this out and then go see Marcus over there. He’s my... assistant." The way he said it made it clear that Marcus wasn’t exactly thrilled about his role. "He’ll walk you through the basics."

I glanced over at Marcus and immediately understood Alfred’s hesitation. The guy looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His shoulders were hunched in that particular way that screamed ’leave me alone,’ and when he noticed Alfred pointing in his direction, his expression darkened even further. Did I care about his attitude problem? Not particularly. Nobody forced him to take this job, and if he was going to do it, the least he could do was not look like someone had just killed his dog.

When I approached him and explained what Alfred had said, Marcus stared at me like I was personally responsible for every bad thing that had ever happened to him. The look was so intense and hostile that it was starting to get on my nerves. Eventually, though, he began explaining the club procedures and safety protocols in a monotone voice that made it clear he’d rather be doing literally anything else.

The guidance session dragged on longer than it needed to, and I found myself losing interest about halfway through. Instead, I let my attention wander to the far more interesting sight of students practicing on various targets scattered throughout the space. The archery hall was absolutely massive – it had the same grand scale as a museum’s main exhibition area. The entire structure was enclosed in glass from floor to ceiling, except for the back wall, and the roof curved in an elegant arc that allowed natural light to flood the space. It was bright and beautiful in a way that made you want to spend hours there, just soaking in the atmosphere.

There was enough room for dozens of different training setups. Some targets were stationary, others were powered by relics that allowed them to move and dodge incoming arrows in unpredictable patterns. The variety was impressive, and overall, the facility was quite well-designed for serious training.

In the distance, I spotted Kai engaged in what looked like a competitive match with another student. They were using one of the relic-powered target systems, and from what I could see, both of them were holding their own pretty well.

When I turned my attention back to Marcus, I realized he’d noticed me spacing out and was now glaring at me with the intensity of someone who’d just caught their partner cheating. I completely ignored his death stare, quickly filled out the application form, and handed it back to him.

He then pointed toward a corner of the hall where a lone figure was practicing. "The other main club members who could actually teach you something worthwhile are competing with other combat-oriented groups right now," he explained in that same flat tone. "She’s your best option at the moment."

I felt a strange hesitation as I looked in that direction, because I recognized exactly who ’she’ was.

Carmella.

She stood alone in her private corner, methodically shooting arrows with mechanical precision. Just seeing her there, isolated from everyone else, brought back that same weird feeling I’d experienced when I first walked into class and introduced myself that day. There was something about her solitude that created an ache in my chest.

So I decided to approach her.

"Um, hi there," I called out with a small wave as I got closer, but she didn’t turn around.

"Don’t come any closer," she said, her voice cold.

I stopped dead in my tracks and tried a different approach. "I was told you might be able to help me learn," I said, keeping my tone respectful.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she continued shooting arrows with deadly accuracy, each one finding the exact same spot on the moving target’s neck. It was genuinely impressive marksmanship – the kind of precision that took years to develop.

"Did you—" I started to speak again, but she cut me off.

"Just get out of here, or I might just make a mistake," she said, and there was no ambiguity about what kind of mistake she meant.

I stood there in confused silence. This didn’t make any sense. Why was she being so cold toward me? Toward everyone, apparently? This wasn’t the Carmella I remembered at all. She used to be a social butterfly, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Hell, she used to bother me constantly back in the day, dragging me along on her endless hunts for some ’weird stalker’ she was convinced was following her around. Those hunts had a funny way of turning into what could only be described as dates.

She wasn’t supposed to be like this – isolated, hostile, withdrawn.

What could have happened to change her so dramatically?

Wait.

Wait just a minute.

WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE!

Don’t tell me...

"Cazella really was a weird name for a kid," I muttered under my breath, narrowing my eyes as I tested a theory that was forming in my mind.

Before I could say or do anything else, I was on the ground with an arrow buried deep in my chest.

Oh... fuck.

"OH MY GOD!" Voices erupted throughout the hall as students spotted the scene – me lying in a rapidly expanding pool of my own blood.

The last thing I saw before darkness started creeping in around the edges of my vision was Carmella, still standing in her corner, bow in hand, her face showing absolutely no emotion at all, her eyes so dark I couldn’t see it’s color. As if putting an arrow through someone’s chest was just another part of her daily routine.

Maybe it was.