The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Despite the fear coursing through her veins, Maris shared a glance with Amberine, and in that one look, everything was said. They were outmatched, exhausted, and running on nothing but fumes. Yet, in each other, they found determination. Maris squeezed Amberine's hand, and the warmth of her friend's fingers, though trembling, gave her a sense of stability.

"We're not giving up," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the tension that seemed to thicken the air. Amberine nodded, her jaw set, and her eyes narrowing in that fiery way that only Amberine could manage even when all hope seemed to be lost. The blaze of Ifrit flickered faintly at her fingertips, almost as if reflecting her weakening energy, but also her unyielding spirit.

Maris took a deep, shaky breath, her mind clouded with exhaustion but clear in one respect—they had each other, and that was enough for her to brace herself for the fight of her life. They stood tall, hands tightly interlocked, and faced the cloaked man in front of them. His head tilted slightly, and his smile widened, dark and mocking.

The chuckle that left his lips was low, almost a rumble that resonated through the chamber, as if the very walls were laughing with him. Then, he lifted his hands slowly, his movements almost theatrical. Dark mana began to swirl around him, thick and viscous, like living shadows coiling and uncoiling, extending from his body as if reaching out to devour anything in their path. It wasn't just mana—Maris could feel the difference. It was demonic, and it exuded an energy so malevolent, so vile, that her entire body went cold, her stomach churning.

Enjoy new tales from empire

Maris's breath hitched, her knees growing weak. The pressure in the room grew tenfold, as if the air itself was being sucked out of it, replaced by something dark and heavy, something that filled her lungs like tar. She swallowed hard, tasting bile at the back of her throat, fighting against the urge to vomit. The oppressive energy pressed down on them, clawing at her skin, her insides, her very soul, and she felt herself tremble under its weight.

Beside her, Amberine struggled as well. Her teeth were clenched, her entire body tense, and Maris could see the sheen of sweat forming on her forehead, her fiery aura flickering like a dying flame. But Amberine didn't let go of Maris's hand. She held on, and Maris held on too. They had come too far, faced too much, to give in now. Even if their bodies wanted to crumble, they would stand tall.

"HAHAHAHA!! GOOD!!"

The cloaked man's laughter grew, echoing, reverberating through the chamber until it felt like the sound itself was pressing down on them, each note of amusement a reminder of how small they were compared to the power that stood before them. He raised his hands higher, and the shadows grew darker, thicker, swirling faster around him, filling the chamber until Maris could barely see anything beyond the mass of shadows and the faint outline of his twisted smile.

Maris's hand squeezed Amberine's tighter, the fear almost overwhelming now, her body screaming at her to run, to hide, to escape this nightmare. But there was nowhere to go, no way out. They had to face this, no matter how hopeless it seemed.

"Amberine," she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes flickering to her friend. Amberine glanced at her, her eyes wide but filled with that unyielding determination that Maris so admired. She was scared—they both were—but they weren't going to give up. Not now. Not ever.@@novelbin@@

The dark mana around the cloaked man seemed to pulse, each wave of energy like a heartbeat, a living, breathing entity that exuded nothing but malice and hunger. Maris could feel it pulling at her, as if trying to drain the very essence from her body. Her vision blurred, her legs trembling as she fought to stay upright. But she wouldn't fall. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Suddenly, the flames in the fireplaces lining the walls blazed to life, a fierce eruption of black fire that cast long, twisted shadows across the room.

Whoosh!

Maris and Amberine both turned their heads, their eyes widening in disbelief. The black flames twisted and writhed, growing taller, forming shapes that were all too real. Silhouettes emerged from the flames, their forms slowly becoming defined as they stepped out of the fire, their cloaks fluttering around them like extensions of the shadows.

Four figures emerged, their bodies wrapped in dark cloaks similar to the one worn by the man they had been facing. Each of them carried an air of authority, of power that seemed to rival the man already in front of them. The oppressive energy that had filled the room now seemed to multiply, pressing down on Maris and Amberine until it felt like they could barely breathe.

Maris's eyes darted between the new arrivals, her heart pounding in her chest. Who were they? What did they want? Why were they here? She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, her mind racing with questions she had no answers to.

One of the figures stepped forward, the air around them seeming to still, the oppressive energy lessening slightly, though the sense of danger remained palpable. The figure lifted a hand, pushing back the hood just enough to reveal a shadowed face, the glint of eyes barely visible beneath.

"What do you think you're doing?" the figure asked, their voice deep and authoritative, each word spoken with the weight of command. The tone was sharp, almost scolding, and it cut through the chamber like a knife, the oppressive energy receding just slightly.

The cloaked man's laughter died down, his smile fading as he turned to face the newcomer. The shadows around him seemed to retract, slinking back towards his body as he regarded the figure in front of him. There was annoyance in his posture, the way his head tilted, his shoulders tensing slightly, his hands slowly lowering.

"The Lord won't be pleased if you keep playing games," the figure continued, their tone leaving no room for argument. "We have orders, and you're wasting time."

The cloaked man clicked his tongue, the sound sharp, almost petulant. He lowered his hands fully, the swirling dark mana dissipating, leaving the chamber feeling slightly less suffocating, though the air was still thick with tension.

"Very well," the cloaked man said, his voice tinged with frustration, his smile now completely gone, replaced by a look of reluctant acceptance. He took a step back, his eyes shifting from the four figures to Maris and Amberine, a flicker of something almost like disappointment crossing his face. "But you're ruining all the fun."

Maris let out a shaky breath, her legs trembling beneath her, her entire body feeling as though it was about to collapse. The adrenaline that had kept her standing seemed to fade, leaving behind only exhaustion and pain. But she kept her eyes on the new arrivals, her heart still pounding, the fear refusing to let go of her. Who were these people? And why were they here?

Amberine took a step closer to Maris, her hand still gripping tightly onto her friend's, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the four figures. "Who are they?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her gaze flickering between the newcomers and the cloaked man who now stood off to the side.

The figure who had spoken before stepped forward again, their eyes hidden beneath the shadow of their hood, their presence commanding as they regarded Maris and Amberine. There was no amusement in their posture, no mocking smile or hint of derision. Just cold, calculating intent.

"You should consider yourselves fortunate," the figure said, their voice carrying across the chamber, each word clear and precise. "Had we not intervened, your fates would have been sealed in a rather gruesome manner by this man."

Maris swallowed hard, her throat dry, her body trembling as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. The fear that had gripped her heart refused to release its hold, and she could feel her legs ready to give way beneath her. But she couldn't afford to collapse now. Not with these five figures standing before them.

The four new arrivals stepped forward, forming a line beside the cloaked man, their combined presence making the chamber feel even smaller, the air even more suffocating. The dark flames in the fireplaces continued to burn, casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own, the black fire illuminating the five figures who now stood together, their dark cloaks blending into the shadows.

The lead figure looked directly at Maris and Amberine, their gaze piercing, though their face remained hidden beneath the hood. Maris felt the weight of that gaze, as if it could see straight through her, as if it could read her very soul. The tension in the room seemed to grow, the silence heavy, the only sound the crackling of the black flames.

"Now tell me," the lead figure said, their voice cold and commanding, their eyes fixed on Maris and Amberine. "Who are the both of you to breathe in our presence?"

The words hung in the air, the challenge clear, the threat undeniable. Maris could feel Amberine's hand tighten around hers.

But then.

Just then.

The man stopped when he saw Amberine's face clearly.

"You..."

"You're Polime's daughter..."