Page 285 of The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

Darkness loomed.

The sword in Hannah's hand began to draw in a darkness capable of extinguishing all the lights in the study.

Rumble...

A slight tremor vibrated through the room, gradually snuffing out the candles one by one, beckoning Loen’s sword as he hesitated.

"What have you done?"

Loen asked Hannah, his voice filled with unease. What on earth had she done? The black aura was a symbol of impurity.

For a swordmaster, to see an aura formed by the wind of a sword take on such an ominous hue, there was only one explanation.

‘Black magic.’

Loen, with trembling eyes, questioned Hannah again, but her sword had long since left her hand.

“Histania Hannah!” “...” “I’m asking you...!”

Swish.

Before Loen could finish his words of fury, Hannah’s sword reached him.

Though it had been swung from a distance, Hannah’s blade landed heavily, leaving a small wound before disappearing.

“...What is this?”

Loen stared at Hannah, shaken, wondering what had just happened.

It wasn’t a feint, nor a strike imbued with aura. The fact that he was cut by a mere sword swing in the air left Loen baffled.

Swish.

“...”

There was no response as Hannah’s sword lashed out again. Loen gritted his teeth, enduring the attack. He didn’t want to show a pitiful side to his daughter, even if she was being unpredictable.

“You’ll have to explain this in detail.”

Loen spoke to Hannah, his voice laced with both concern and anger.

Hannah, trembling, stared at her sword. She was shocked at how naturally the blade moved, as if her will had completely synchronized with it.

‘Is this really my power?’

Her vision blurred.

The power that surged through her body, combined with the ringing in her ears, made her feel like she would pass out at any moment.

It was as if someone was whispering “kill” into her ear. Her hand, gripping the sword, trembled, and her chest filled with an overwhelming, explosive rage.

At this rate...

“Histania Hannah.”

She felt like she would be swept away by the sword.

With a quivering voice, Hannah spoke to Loen.

“Draw your sword.” “...” “Draw it.”

Hannah’s sword began to dance.

Blood dripped down.

The blood that ◆ Nоvеl?g?t ◆ (Only on Nоvеl?g?t) trickled from Loen, who stubbornly refused to draw his sword, soaked the papers on the desk, falling in thick droplets.

“Why...”

Hannah, her voice trembling, asked Loen. Was it still not enough? How much more did she have to try for him to finally draw his sword? Her frustration and desperation poured out as she shouted at him.

“Why... won’t you draw your sword? Why... why won’t you?!”

Loen remained silent, his lips firmly pressed together.

“I cannot draw my sword.” “...Am I still not good enough?” “...” “Am I still not enough to meet your standards?” “No.”

Loen spoke with a heavy heart as he addressed Hannah.

“It’s because I’m not ready yet.” “Ready. Ready... Always that damned readiness!!!” “Histania Hannah.” “I don’t want to hear it!”

Swish.

Filled with overwhelming emotion, Hannah’s sword danced again, but Loen, looking at the fragile strike, maintained his silence.

Hannah’s sword was fragile.

There was only one thing.

It was the pain in Loen’s heart, the unbearable pain of knowing that everything happening now was his fault. The guilt weighed so heavily on him that he couldn’t even lift his head.

Looking at Hannah’s sword, Loen spoke.

“You are still too soft.” “How long will you keep saying that?” “You are too soft to wield a sword, too soft to harm others.” “Shut your mouth.”

As Hannah slashed at him again, Loen closed his eyes.

Now, he thought he finally understood.

He understood why that person had told him to find the answer himself. Why the young lady had scolded him. He finally found his direction.

Yes, what I need to do is...

“I need to...”

Apologize...

As soon as Loen’s words fell,

[The synchronization begins.]

A massive killing intent swept over Loen. It was strong enough to make the shoulders of a swordmaster tremble. Loen stepped back to avoid Hannah’s sword, but—

Swish.

The blade ignored the distance, and Hannah’s sword left a deep wound on Loen’s arm.

‘What’s going on...?’

Loen furrowed his brow, confused. He thought he had understood her sword technique, but he was wounded nonetheless.

This was no ordinary aura. No, this felt like it defied the very rules of space.

“You’ve learned something strange from that person.”

Loen clenched his teeth in frustration.

Finally, as Loen drew his sword, Hannah let out a sly smile and muttered under her breath.

“Hah... It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the study, Father.”

Hannah inhaled deeply, a smile creeping across her face. She looked at Loen’s hand, now gripping his sword, and smirked.

“You’ve finally drawn your sword?” “Hannah...?” “Yes~! I am Histania Hannah, your daughter.” “...”

The cold tone in her voice made Loen frown. The woman standing before him didn’t feel like his daughter. It felt more like he was facing something far deeper—no, more like an apostle.

Seeing Loen instinctively gripping his sword, Hannah let out an exaggerated exclamation.

“Wow...”

She glanced at him and shrugged.

“You’re finally going to spar with me.” “...” “I’ve been begging you to spar with me since my birthday, and now you’re doing it? What an honor.” “This isn’t a spar. This is a fight.” “I didn’t want to spar with you like this either, but what can I do? My resentment must have grown too deep.”

Hannah chuckled softly as she spoke to Loen.

“How is it? My sword?” “...” “Wasn’t it strong?” “...Histania Hannah.” “I had to go to these lengths to get your attention, didn’t I? I had to use whatever means necessary.”

Hannah clicked her tongue, speaking as if she were someone else entirely.

“Say something, Father. Don’t just sit there like a mute.”

Loen swallowed hard, staring at Hannah’s sword, now blackened and burning with darkness.

“Draw your sword.”

Shing.

“Draw it.”

Rumble...!

As Hannah’s sword surged toward him, Loen finally drew his own.

The sword gifted to him by the emperor.

He hadn’t drawn it because his daughter had asked him to. He had drawn it because he sensed that if he didn’t, he would be in grave danger. The killing intent behind this particular strike felt different from any of Hannah’s previous attacks.

Clang.

As if mocking the Sword of the Empire itself.

The blue blade of Loen’s sword met Hannah’s sword with a heavy clang. The resonating vibration caused Loen to grimace as he looked at Hannah.

“Come to your senses, Histania Hannah.”

Hannah shrugged casually, drawing a line with her sword.

“One.”

“...!”

Loen’s defense faltered, and blood splattered. Hannah, her eyes trembling, asked Loen.

“Does it hurt?” “...” “You shouldn’t say it hurts from just this.” “...” “That person...” “...” “Was in far more pain than you are.”

“...”

Loen, hearing the hopelessness in Hannah’s voice, gripped his sword once more. And again, Hannah swung her sword.

“Two.”

Slash.

“Three.”

“Ugh...!”

A faint groan escaped Loen’s lips, and Hannah’s lips curled into a smirk. She was likely the first person to ever push the Sword of the Empire to such a degree.

“Even after all this, am I still not worthy of your trust?” “...” “I trained desperately, trying to earn your approval.” “Focus on your sword.” “Yes, I should. I should, but...”

Slash.

“This can’t be called a spar, as you said. Isn’t that right?”

Hannah stared at Loen, who was bleeding, and asked.

“Why aren’t you using your aura?” “...” “If you wanted to, you could easily take me down. You could even take my head without having to defend against my sword. So why...” “Because you are not a criminal.”

Hannah let out an awkward laugh and nodded.

“Ah... That’s right. I’m not a criminal. Not yet.”

She laughed bitterly as she began to gather her aura, as if now, it was time for the real fight to begin.

“Come on, draw your sword.”

“...”

“Like when you came to kill me.”

“What...?”

“Why not?”

Boom...!

“You’ve been waiting for this.”

As Hannah’s sword rushed toward him, Loen sighed deeply and raised his sword.

And then—

Clang.

For the first time, their swords clashed, sending tremors through the ground.

The ‘clank’ of their swords echoed, and the curtains in the mansion began to sway. Papers in the study scattered through the air, the shattered remains of Loen’s glass littered the floor, and the once tidy study was now in disarray, filled only with Hannah’s hollow laughter.

“I struggled so much.” “...” “I cried so many tears because of you.” “Ugh...!” “I cursed that person because of you... So why don’t you ever sacrifice anything?”

Hannah’s sword drew an arc, leaving behind an even darker shadow.

Loen raised his sword in response, and as golden aura began to rise from his blade, Hannah smirked and stomped her foot.

“You’re too slow.”

Light and dark. Knight and sinner. As the clashing of these opposites echoed throughout the room, the windows shattered, and shards of glass rained down onto the floor.

Hannah crushed the broken glass underfoot as she pointed her sword at Loen.

And she whispered softly.

“Histania Sword Technique, First Form.”

Loen’s eyes widened in shock.

“That sword...” “Yes, Father’s sword.”

A gust of wind began to swirl around Hannah’s sword. Without any hesitation, she unleashed the sword technique that had been passed down through the Histania family for generations, without giving Loen a moment to recover.

“Formless.”

Loen twisted his body quickly, preparing to strike back, but—

“Second Form, Nameless.”

Hannah’s relentless assault left Loen defenseless. As the relentless barrage of strikes rained down on him, Loen heard Hannah’s voice echo in his ears.

“Why... didn’t you come to save me?” “What...?” “Why did you leave me to die in that freezing cave?”

Hannah’s trembling voice caused Loen’s eyes to widen in disbelief. How could she know about that? How could she know about that story?

But Hannah...

“Pfft... Hahaha!! Oh... that expression.”

Like someone drunk on pleasure, she burst into laughter.

“Oh, this is driving me crazy.” “...” “Why are you so scared? What have I done?”

Loen’s voice trembled as he asked Hannah.

“Who are you?”

Hannah tilted her head and asked him in return.

“Why?” “...” “Or are you planning to kill me?”

“Hannah!”

“Pfft... I am your daughter...”

Hannah shook her head with a sigh as she gazed into the air.

“Oh, I guess I can’t say any more. I’m already on the edge as it is. Anyway.”

Hannah lifted her sword and spoke to Loen.

“Please, don’t hate that person too much.”

Then, she extended the sword, filled with dark energy, toward Loen.

And then.

As Hannah’s sword touched Loen’s neck.

Between Loen’s trembling eyes, the sound of something breaking rang out.

Hannah let go of the sword, tears streaming down her face.

“Why... did you do this?”

[You have withstood Histania Loen’s First Sword Technique. (1/1)]

At long last, Hannah’s sword had finally reached Loen.