I'm in Love with the Villainess!

"Bang~"

The moment Evelina uttered that word, every person besides Frian had their head blown apart in an instant. Headless bodies thudded to the floor, and Frian’s eyes trembled as the horror sank in.

"L-Lady Evelina!"

Frian staggered back but tripped over one of his former living friend’s arms. He crashed onto his backside and scrambled away, shuffling across the floor as Evelina walked toward him at an unhurried pace, clearly savoring his fear.

"So... what made you think it was a good idea to start this stupid conspiracy in my territory?"

"I-It wasn’t my idea!"

"Oh~? Even if it wasn’t your idea, why did you agree to join in, then?"

"W-Well..."

Frian hesitated. Evelina was terrifying, yes—but was he really going to spill the inquisitors’ secrets? Was he really going to risk a god’s wrath by betraying the grand priest and his inquisitors just to save his own skin?

What about his afterlife? Was this really worth it?

"I-I can’t sa—"

A blade of darkness snapped into existence inches from his neck. In the next heartbeat he was on the floor, Evelina’s boot crushing his chest, an abyssal spear leveled right at his throat.

"You can’t say? That’s disappointing..."

Evelina smirked, her choker and eyes flaring a bright crimson in response.

"But that won’t be a problem. I know exactly how to make people like you talk..."

***

"Where the hell are they?"

The inquisitor paced back and forth in the empty classroom, the soles of his boots scraping against the old tiles. Rows of chairs and battered desks sat in stiff silence, all of it looking as tired and outdated as he felt. He checked his watch again, just to be sure.

They were late. Really late.

Ten minutes. That was the line he’d drawn, something he’d made very clear they were never supposed to cross. His time was valuable. Even a simple, routine meeting with an inquisitor was a privilege. Not even kings or dukes could just snap their fingers and summon one on a whim.

"Useless... don’t tell me they flaked," he muttered, resting his hands on his hips. His brows knit together. "No one should’ve been able to interfere. I picked the perfect moment to carry out the grand priest’s plan."

He dropped into the nearest desk’s armchair, the wood creaking under his weight, and started tapping his foot, faster and faster, as the seconds dragged by.

"The examination’s underway. Everyone important should be tied up... Azrael, Corvus, Arden, and that damned D’Arclight. None of them should have the time to meddle..."

The frustration finally boiled over. He shot to his feet and kicked the chair aside, sending it skidding across the floor with a harsh scrape.

"I even picked an idiot to act as my eyes. Even a D’Arclight spy should’ve overlooked him. There’s no way they got caught. So what then? Did they just decide to slack off?"

He let out a long breath and rubbed at his face. The mask came off for a moment, cool air brushing the sweat on his skin, then he slid it back on, the familiar weight settling over his features.

And then—

THUD.

He froze.

"Who’s there?"

The inquisitor turned toward the narrow window that overlooked the hallway.

What he saw there was the last thing he’d expected.

A professor.

And he definitely didn’t look like a normal, respectable academic.

"Why are you here?" the inquisitor asked, his voice low.

The man wore the standard professor’s uniform, but that was where the normalcy ended. There was something off about him—an odd, humming pressure in the air around his body. His eyes were sunken, ringed with dark circles, like he hadn’t slept properly in days. Beneath his calm expression, a sharp, feverish madness flickered in his pupils.

This wasn’t an average professor.

This one was powerful. And this one was definitely—

SLASH.

Steel whispered.

The inquisitor drew his sword and vanished from his spot, reappearing just behind the professor with his rapier leveled at the back of the man’s throat.

"A D’Arclight scum!"

CLANG.

The professor’s arm moved in a smooth, almost lazy motion. He blocked the thrust with a smile that was anything but sane, parrying the rapier aside with a wand made of dark, crystalline material, veins of shadow pulsing faintly within it.

Its origin was obvious. It was the thing he’d demanded as the price of his unquestioning loyalty to Evelina.

"Scum?" the professor echoed, lips curling wider. "I think you mean to say a D’Arclight Goddess’ scum."

And, like most of Evelina’s pawns, there was clearly something broken—and disturbingly devoted—behind that smile.

The inquisitor’s grip tightened around his rapier.

"...You’ve lost your mind."

"Mm," the professor hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Yes. That tends to happen when you’re shown something... greater."

The air changed as darkness started to creep along the floor. At first it was subtle—thin veins of shadow slipping through the cracks between the tiles like something alive. The inquisitor noticed right away.

"...You’re stalling."

"Am I?" The professor’s smile widened. "Or are you already too late?"

The words hit harder than they should’ve. Behind the mask, the inquisitor’s eyes narrowed as his instincts flared—not with danger, but with something worse: the realization that someone else had taken control.

"...Where are they?" he asked, voice low. The professor didn’t answer.

Instead, with a sharp snap, the classroom door behind them locked. Every window went black at once, the light cut off as if something had swallowed it whole. The temperature dropped—not to cold, exactly, but to something hollow.

Empty.

And then a presence arrived—not subtle, not hidden, but crushingly obvious.

"...Ah," the professor breathed, almost reverent now as he took a step back. "Speak of the goddess..."

At the far end of the room, the shadows twisted. They didn’t explode outward or lash at anything; they just... made room, like reality itself was shifting aside for something more important. And then she stepped through.

Evelina.

Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she walked in, moving at an unhurried pace, crimson eyes settling on the inquisitor like he was something vaguely interesting, not an actual threat.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then she let out a quiet sigh.

"...I was hoping for something a little more entertaining."

The inquisitor didn’t move. He barely even breathed. Now it all lined up: the missing students, the unnatural silence, the delay. None of it was an accident.

It was a setup.

"...D’Arclight," he said slowly, some steel returning to his voice. "So you were involved."

Evelina tilted her head slightly.

"Involved?" she repeated, voice soft. "That’s a strange way to describe someone cleaning up a mess in her own territory."

Her gaze slid briefly to the professor.

"You did well. Stand down."

"At once," he replied. He stepped back immediately, lowering his wand without a hint of hesitation.

The inquisitor’s eyes sharpened as he watched. That wasn’t just loyalty—no doubts, no questions, no resistance at all.

It wasn’t loyalty.

It was ownership.

"You know... I’m actually a little disappointed. I was hoping you’d take out a few of my spies before I caught you. Then I’d at least have a decent excuse to torture you without anyone asking questions." She sighed lightly, a crooked smile tugging at her lips. "But I suppose... it’s not too late for that, is it?"

"W-What are you—"

"Shh. Don’t ruin the moment."