My Maids are All Final Villainesses

Clay blinked once, then twice, his expression blank as though the strange word meant nothing to him at all, as though the warmth rising in his chest had never appeared in the first place, and when he finally opened his mouth, his tone carried nothing but confusion.

"What is that?"

On the other side of the crack, the Warchief went silent for a moment, as if measuring whether the boy in front of him was truly ignorant or simply mocking him again, and then his voice came out slower this time, heavier, carrying an ancient pride that felt far older than the battlefield they stood on.

"You do not know...?"

A pause followed, long and tense, before the Warchief continued, his voice echoing with a strange kind of solemn authority.

"Nullgora is the sacred duel of our people."

The air trembled faintly as he spoke.

"It is not a battle like the ones you humans fight, hiding behind spells and tricks and fragile constructs of mana. It is a contest of flesh, of bone, of blood, of raw strength that comes from within one’s body."

His tone grew deeper.

"In a Nullgora, no magic is allowed. No spells. No external aid. No tricks. No distance. Only the body that you were born with, and the power you have carved into it through battle and survival."

The pressure from the crack increased as his voice became louder, more intense, as if the very concept he was describing carried weight on its own.

"You step into the arena with nothing but yourself. Your fists, your bones, your endurance, your will. You fight until one side cannot stand anymore, or until one side is crushed beyond recovery."

The soldiers below felt their throats dry as they listened.

"This is the way of the Bersuka Tribe. We do not rely on fragile magic. We do not hide behind distance. We meet our enemies head on and break them with our own hands."

His voice turned colder.

"If you challenge me in a Nullgora, you will face me without your magic. Without your tricks. Without anything that makes you comfortable. You will face me as you are, and I will break you as you stand."

Silence followed his words.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

Then.

"Young Master! Don’t do it!"

The Captain’s voice exploded from behind Clay, filled with panic that he could no longer hold back.

"You cannot agree to that! You absolutely cannot!"

The soldiers and archers followed immediately, their voices rising one after another, overlapping, chaotic, desperate.

"Young Master, please reconsider!"

"Without magic, you will lose your greatest advantage!"

"That tribe... they are obviously monsters in close combat!"

"You saw it yourself! Their fists alone can shatter armor and break the ground!"

"Even our strongest knights rely on holy mana to reinforce their bodies, but they... they are different!"

"They are clearly born for this kind of fight!"

"They train for this kind of fight!"

"They live for this kind of fight!"

Their voices grew louder, more frantic, their fear no longer hidden.

"You will be stepping into their domain!"

"You will be fighting them in the only way they have perfected for generations!"

"This is not a fair battle!"

"This is suicide!"

"Please, Young Master, don’t accept it!"

The Captain stepped forward, his face pale, his hands trembling slightly despite his attempt to stay composed.

"You are the pride of the Valmont Family! You are the son of the Prime Minister! You carry the future of the Holy Kingdom! You cannot risk everything for something like this!"

His voice cracked.

"We can call reinforcements! We can wait for the Holy King! We can prepare a proper defense! There are other ways to deal with this situation!"

"Please... do not throw your life away like this!"

The archers and soldiers echoed him, their voices filled with urgency, their eyes fixed on Clay as if begging him to step back from the edge.

But Clay only let out a small breath.

"Don’t worry you all..." He said. And. Added. "There’s no way I would agree to that."

For a moment, relief flashed across their faces.

But then.

"Why doesn’t he come here instead?"

Clay continued, his tone filled with boredom.

"He’s wasting my time."

The relief shattered instantly.

On the other side, the Warchief’s rage exploded once more.

"You bastard!"

The crack trembled violently, the space around it distorting as if it could collapse at any moment.

"You dare speak to me like that after what you’ve done!?"

His voice roared like thunder.

"You think I do not want to come there myself!?"

"You think I would not tear you apart with my own hands if I could!?"

"You are lucky!"

His voice dropped, heavy and cold.

"You are lucky that I made an oath."

"If not for that oath, I would have already stepped into your land and crushed every bone in your body, then every bone of everyone behind you, until nothing remains of your kingdom but dust and screams."

The air grew heavier with every word.

"You should be grateful that I am bound by my word."

Silence.

Then.

"Alright."

Clay spoke.

"I agree with Nullgora."

For a moment, the entire battlefield froze.

Even the wind seemed to stop.

Then.

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

The Warchief’s laughter burst out, loud and wild, filled with something that sounded almost like joy.

"You agree!?"

"You actually agree!?"

"Hahahahaha!"

His laughter echoed endlessly, growing louder and louder as if he had just heard the greatest joke in the world.

"You foolish boy!"

"You arrogant little insect!"

"You just threw away your only chance to survive!"

"You think your physical strength alone can stand against me!?"

"You think you can compete with the body of a Bersuka Warchief!?"

"Hahahahaha!"

His laughter did not stop, each burst of sound filled with excitement and cruelty.

"I will crush you!"

"I will break you!"

"I will make you regret every word you have spoken!"

Meanwhile, below, the Captain and the soldiers stared at Clay as if they had just watched him sign his own death sentence.

"Why..."

The Captain’s voice trembled.

"Why would you do that, Young Master..."

The soldiers followed, their faces pale, their eyes filled with disbelief.

"Why would you agree..."

"You had the advantage..."

"You could have ended this without risking your life..."

"Why... why would you throw it away..."

Some of them clenched their fists, frustration and fear mixing in their expressions.

"You could have stayed safe..."

"You could have protected us from a distance..."

"You didn’t have to do this..."

Their voices grew softer, heavier, as realization settled in.

"You didn’t have to risk everything..."

Then.

"Enough."

Cerys’ voice cut through their words like a blade.

They all froze.

She stepped forward, her eyes cold as she looked at them one by one.

"Shut up."

Her tone left no room for argument.

"You people... what do you even understand?"

Her gaze turned toward Clay, and for a moment, something changed in her expression.

"Young master... is lonely."

The words fell quietly, but they struck harder than any shout.

The soldiers blinked, confused.

"Lonely...?"

Cerys continued, her voice calm, yet carrying a strange certainty.

"He stands above all of you."

"He stands above everyone."

"No one can match him."

"No one can challenge him."

Her hands clenched slightly.

"Do you think that is something joyful?"

Her eyes lowered for a brief moment.

"To have no equal... to have no one who can stand beside you... to have no one who can understand you..."

Her voice softened.

"That is not strength."

"That is isolation."

She lifted her head again, her gaze firm.

"If he dies here... then so be it."

The soldiers widened their eyes.

"He will die doing what he wants."

"He will die chasing something that can finally make him feel alive."

Her voice carried no hesitation.

"And that is better than living in a world where nothing can reach him."

Silence fell once more.

Clay was speechless but chose to ignore it.

The soldiers slowly lowered their heads, their expressions turning heavy.

"I... see..."

The Captain murmured.

"So that’s how it is..."

Around them, the archers and knights clenched their fists.

"If that is your wish, Young Master..."

"We will witness it until the end..."

"We will not look away..."

"We will not run..."

"We will stand here and watch your battle..."

Cerys closed her eyes briefly.

If your foe falls...

I will find someone stronger...

Someone who can stand against you...

No matter what it takes...

I will not let you be alone...

If Clay knew this, he would be coughing up blood. He just wants a peaceful life while using the system, but because he wants to get stronger by acting lonely so she’ll pamper him, he’s now going to ruin that peaceful life.

Meanwhile, above, the Warchief’s laughter slowly faded.

"Oh really?"

His voice came again, filled with cruel amusement.

"Then I will grant him exactly what he wants."

Suddenly.

The crack expanded.

A massive figure dropped from the sky.

Boom!

The moment his feet touched the ground, the entire battlefield trembled violently, cracks spreading across the earth as if it could not endure his presence.

Dust exploded outward.

The air shook.

The soldiers stumbled.

And in the center of it all.

The Warchief of the Bersuka Tribe had arrived.