I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 290: The Unplanned Revelation

The suffocating despair in the royal guest chamber didn’t last much longer before King Alderon officially called a halt to the panic. With the High Priest declaring a complete dead end, the atmosphere had mutated from frantic desperation into a cold, heavy political dread.

Since Princess Iryna’s magical preservation was predicted to hold her system stable for at least a few hours, the King issued a mandatory lockdown. Every guest, noble, and foreign delegate was ordered back to their designated quarters under heavy imperial guard while the crown council drafted an emergency diplomatic dispatch to the Solaric Empire.

Escorted by a silent perimeter of armored knights, Cherion and Zarius made their way through the echoing corridors of the palace. They weren’t taken to the standard guest wings this time. Instead, the guards led them straight to the old bedroom Cherion had occupied during his stay at the capital.

The door closed behind them as Cherion stood in the center of the room, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets as his eyes scanned the familiar layout. A strange, disorienting feeling washed over him. For a brief moment, his usual unbothered facade slipped.

"It’s weird to be back here," he murmured, his voice flat but carrying a rare trace of exhaustion.

Zarius didn’t answer immediately. The Duke strode silently across the room, checking the window latches and placing a heavy palm against the wall to ensure nothing like magic-amplifying arrays were active near the perimeter. Satisfied with their privacy, he turned around and fixed his eyes on Cherion.

"I know you are dying to help her," Zarius said softly.

Cherion let out a dry, humorless chuckle, slumping his shoulders as he leaned back against the edge of the desk. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at his boots. "Honestly? I’m really not feeling confident about this one. What if my power isn’t enough this time? What if I mess up and accidentally trigger the exact magical explosion the High Priest was terrified of?"

Zarius took a single step forward. "You didn’t mess up with me," Zarius reminded him. "You pulled me back from the edge when everyone else said it was impossible. The princess doesn’t have anyone else, Cherion. If you don’t try, she is a corpse."

Cherion stared at him for a long beat, the logic of the situation settling heavily in his chest. Zarius was right. He had a literal life-saving cheat code from his transmigrationm sitting back and watching a girl die just because he was anxious went against every moral fiber he had left.

He gave a firm, decisive nod. "Yeah. I have to do it. But it has to be as secretly as possible."

They forced themselves to wait until the deepest, deadest hours of the night, when the palace fell into a suffocating, pitch-black silence. Slipping past the changing of the guard required precision, but with Zarius’s keen senses tracking the patrol routes and Cherion’s low-profile movements, they smoothly navigated the dark corridors back toward the eastern wing.

When they reached the heavy double doors of Iryna’s chamber, Cherion braced himself to deal with imperial guards, but the hallway was completely empty. The security detail had been entirely removed. Cherion frowned, exchanging a quick, cautious glance with Zarius before gently turning the golden handle and pushing the door open.

The room inside was dark, illuminated only by the faint, eerie luminescence radiating from the frozen princess on the bed.

But they weren’t alone.

Sitting rigidly in a chair by the bedside was Gillian, his formal doublet still stained with his sister’s blood, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. And standing just a few feet away was Marielle.

The sudden clicking of the door made both of them snap their heads toward the entrance. Gillian’s hand instinctively flew to the hilt of his sword, his expression twisting into sudden hostility. "Who’s..."

"Ssshhhh," Cherion cut him off in a sharp, hushed whisper, stepping fully into the room while Zarius silently closed the door behind them.

Marielle gasped softly, her eyes widening. "Cherion? Zarius?"

Cherion walked straight past her, his eyes locked on Gillian. "We’re here to save your sister. But I need absolute cooperation, and I need it right now." He turned his head slightly toward Marielle. "Marielle, stand by the door. Keep your ear to the wood. If you hear anything, let us know instantly."

Marielle nodded fiercely and hurried to the door, taking her post as a lookout.

Gillian stood up, his posture defensive, his voice a desperate whisper. "You have a way to save her?"

"Yes," Cherion said, stepping right up to the edge of the frost-bitten mattress. "Your sister’s ice is too thick for me to get through. Prince Gillian, I need you to use your fire to carefully, precisely reduce the density of the ice over her chest. Just a little bit. Leave a thin layer so this doesn’t break, but clear a path for me. Can you do that?"

"Okay."

Gillian took a deep breath, channeling his specific fire to gently thaw the outer crust of the ice. The crystalline structure let out a soft, rhythmic hiss as it began to thin under his precise control, clearing a direct pathway to Iryna’s core points. Cherion took a breath, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He felt the familiar, warm, and terrifyingly pure healing energy beginning to pool at the center of his palms, ready to be deployed.

Without warning, the double doors were thrown open. Before Zarius could even draw his blade, a figure stepped smoothly.

It was the High Priest. He was entirely alone, without his assistants or his holy relics, his expression completely solemn and unreadable as he stared directly at the group.

Gillian flinched, and Cherion instantly froze, his heart dropping straight into his stomach as his mind screamed in absolute panic.

The old man took a slow step forward, his voice a quiet, devastating murmur that shattered the silence of the room.

"Lord Cherion... are you finally willing to use your healing power?"

Cherion’s entire body went completely rigid, his breath hitching in his throat as a cold sweat broke out across his neck.

’How the absolute hell does he know about that?!’