Taming The Villainesses

The little Angala said that every time I cast a great magic, my lifespan would be shortened. That statement was quite shocking.

“How much of my lifespan is cut off with each spell? A month? A year?”

I wanted to know exactly how much my lifespan would be reduced whenever I used high-level magic. But Angala shook her head.

“I don’t know right now. I’ll know when I do a detailed examination. I could send my small centipedes into your ear to probe your brain, blood vessels, and magic circuits…”

… Just the thought was horrifying.

When I frowned, Angala clicked her tongue as if she had expected my reaction and added.

“In any case, you’re forbidden from using big spells. It will gnaw on your life and mind more than my centipedes digging in your ears.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my mind.”

“It might seem that way now. But eventually, you will face problems. Half of you belongs to that hateful Solomon. If that’s the case, it’s bound to happen.”

“Hm…”

“No, you could become something even worse. More terrible than the Demon King…”

“Worse than the Demon King?”

Instead of answering, Angala turned her head. I soon realized she was staring at the northern sky, at the massive crack that tore through it.

Cough.

Angala suddenly coughed. As blood spurted from her mouth, my hair stood on end.

But Angala simply wiped her mouth with the white sleeve of her long silk dress.

“This wound didn’t come from you. It’s an older one. A much older wound inflicted a long time ago by your father, Solomon, that still hasn’t healed.”

I see.

Well, Solomon isn’t my father, but that’s not really important right now.

Solomon, the genius mage who reached Rank 10, had created a wound that continued to eat away at Angala, who was powerful enough to claim as an immortal.

Like a rusty iron stake lodged in her body.

It would slowly eat her life.

“… Are you going to die?”

Angala snorted dismissively at my question.

“You were just trying to kill me a moment ago. And now you’re worried about me? How amusing. Yes, it’s quite the wound. I’ll likely die. But still, I’ll live for a few hundred more years.”

She warned me to think about my own life.

It was strange that the centipede immortal, who had just tried to kill me, was now telling me to take care of myself. There was something almost funny about it.

She had tried to swallow me whole.

Of course, I had a vague feeling that she didn’t really want to kill me.

Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but it seemed like Angala was testing my strength and abilities, as if she was throwing me into a trial to see how I would handle it.

And the result was probably a pass.

“Angala-nim, I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’ve reached the standard you were looking for. May I take the evening primrose now?”

“To save the fairy that was bitten by a centipede?”

“Yes.”

“…This has happened before. A young mage came to me, seeking what I had in order to save a fairy. I remember it vividly. His eyes were filled with despair.”

She suddenly began reminiscing.

Angala’s amber eyes gazed at me, but I could tell that she was seeing someone else in me.

It must be the story of Solomon and the nymph he cherished.

From what I’d heard, I could guess that Solomon had met Angala in this very forest.

Perhaps it was before he was called the Demon King.

━Yes, Solomon came to me. I am Angala, the Medicine Immortal, sister of the wise spider Argala, a being respected by many.

She had read my thoughts again.

Having someone read your thoughts wasn’t a pleasant experience. It felt as though someone were rifling through the hidden files on my PC’s D drive.

━What is this D drive?

“……”

━H-how insolent! Such blasphemous and indecent thoughts! I swear, half-fairy, you’re worse than Solomon!

In any case, I somehow drove Angala out of my mind. Apparently, if I learned various magic and spells under Angala, I could protect myself from having my thoughts read like this.

━Ahem, anyway. I rejected the young mage Solomon’s plea. No matter how much one trains, there is no way to revive the dead. But he couldn’t accept that, and he attacked me.

Srrk.

Angala lifted her silk robe, revealing her pale abdomen above her thigh, where a large scar—like a burn mark, was clearly visible.

“He stole my treasure, my core. The essence I had gathered for hundreds of years were all stolen.”

“That’s really unfortunate.”

“Looking into your eyes, it reminds me of that time. A young, confident mage. You’re like him, in the way you hatch reckless plans for the sake of those you love.”

“… Did you read my mind?”

“Yes. Child, the path you’re taking is coiled with trials far greater than any giant centipede like me. For love, can you bear that burden?”

Love, huh.

It was true that I was planning something reckless. A plan I hadn’t shared with Mirna or Elga. You could call it the ultimate magic I was developing.

But if asked whether I was preparing this ‘for love,’ I would have to admit that it was a bit ambiguous.

━Affection and love. Now I see, you don’t quite understand what those are. You’re confused amidst various emotions.

“… I would appreciate it if you stopped looking into my mind.”

━There are just too many fascinating things; I can’t help myself. But yes, what fills you most is desperation and loneliness.

“……”

━Abandoned by your parents, you’ve lived a long life in solitude. Is that why you cling so tightly to the reasons for living in this world?

Angala’s voice quietly resonated within me.

What she said was nothing but unfiltered truths. Just as she pointed out, I didn’t know love or affection.

All I had ever known was the experience of being abandoned.

Abandoned by my parents.

And now, I was even abandoned by my previous world, struggling in this strange one.

That’s why, for me, love and affection felt vague, like touching an object through thick gloves.

Yes, the name on those gloves was….

Survival.

That was the one unchanging rule for both my past self, Lee Sung-eum, and my current self, Theo Gospel.

━That’s not the full truth. You were once someone precious to another. And you still are. Anyway, I’ll give you the evening primrose. And go to my disciple Kubilai. What you seek will be there.

With those words, Angala disappeared in the thick fog.