Taming The Villainesses

Chapter 439: The One Who Halts (14)

Saint Priga.

The boss battle episode that unfolded when she fell into despair and became a wretched, ruined figure was often cited as one of the most depressing episodes in the original Villain Hunter story.

Perhaps the intense reaction was because she had been a popular candidate for heroine status, and yet ended up perishing in agony.

『I told you not to go. I told you not to open the door. I said it again and again. I definitely told you. But no one ever listens to me...』

Priga muttered something as she slumped down onto the ground. It wasn’t a situation where I could listen carefully, but it sounded almost like a desperate monologue.

Ayra, who had leapt backward and widened the distance between herself and the Saint, spoke.

"The Ars Nova is rampaging."

Elga grimaced sharply.

"Hey, Ayra. Did you really have to do this? Isn’t it your fault things got even worse because you attacked out of nowhere?"

Though I didn’t show it outwardly, Elga’s point wasn’t without merit.

Had Ayra not suddenly unleashed that shockwave, perhaps the eyepatch covering Priga’s face wouldn’t have been blown off.

If that had been the case, maybe we wouldn't be facing the dangerous situation of the Ars Nova going berserk.

However, Ayra shook her head.

"I know women like Priga very well. She’s not someone who can be convinced with words. One way or another, this clash was inevitable."

"What the hell does that mean...?"

"And when fighting an Ars Nova, there's nothing more effective than stirring their emotions and dragging it to the surface."

Ayra’s reasoning... wasn't entirely wrong.

Through multiple conversations, I had realized that persuading the Saint with words was impossible.

Neither side was the type to be swayed by persuasion. Which meant, ultimately, that force would have had to be used.

And the result would likely have been the same.

Besides, speculating about what might have been was pointless now. The situation was already in motion—and it was time to act, not to theorize.

But still—

What in the world was about to happen?

I stood on the plain where the flowers were withering away under the darkened sky, surveying the scene.

Priga, her head hung low, was hugging herself tightly. Her muttering grew louder in irregular bursts.

『So many voices... so much sin... Let us all pray here together... So that our long-held wish might be fulfilled...』

It was clear she was not in a normal state.

At that moment, Ayra said,

"Priga’s Word of Command seems to bind and compel others. But when I attacked her earlier, the constraint broke. So she’s not without weaknesses."

That was true.

When Nymph Trish and Elga’s feet had been pinned to the ground, Ayra’s unleashed shockwave had broken the restraint. Meaning, there was a way to break through Priga’s strange command magic.

"Before she can do anything more foolish, I’ll tear out her tongue and end this."

Swoosh.

With a light gesture, Ayra summoned a bright cluster of glowing spears into the darkened air.

The brilliance was dazzling—and before I could blink, with a sharp shhhk sound, one of the spears vanished.

No—it didn’t vanish; it had been fired at a speed too fast to perceive.

Paaang—!

Slicing through the air like a howling arrow, Ayra’s light spear drove itself straight into the Saint’s prone body.

Paaaat—!

『━━──!!!』

Saint Priga, pierced by the fierce attack, let out a wail—not like a human, but more like a beast.

It was such a horrible scream that I almost had to cover my ears.

But the problem was that even after being impaled by Ayra’s spear, the Saint's body convulsed with an eerie energy.

Soon, she grasped the spear lodged in her chest with both hands, pulled it out, and collapsed forward.

『Pain is the hammer that tempers the soul... The impure iron, hammered in the forge, will one day serve as pure gold... God, grant me not peace, but the strength to overcome trials...』

Blood gushed violently from the hole in her chest.

It was far beyond a fatal dose, yet the Saint’s prayers did not cease.

Her blood dyed the already darkened flower field an even deeper shade of black and crimson.

Then, Saint Priga’s body began to make grotesque cracking noises.

Her arms bent and twisted at impossible angles, her fingers elongating into monstrous claws that dug into the earth.

Watching Priga transform into something increasingly monstrous, Narmee shrieked, her hair standing on end.

"You monster! So you’re finally showing your true colors! I told you so many times, sis! Clerics are shady! This is why I never wanted to go to church!"

"Narmee, is now really the time!? Focus on what we need to do!"

Mirna yelled back, her voice trembling.

As someone who had once been a faithful believer, witnessing the Saint—someone she once revered—fall into such a grotesque form must have been a terrible shock.

『━─!!!』

Finally, when the Saint’s clawed arms raked deep gouges into the flower field, the creature that had once been Priga slowly raised its long, twisted body—and roared.

***

It knelt upon the ground.

Its body was wrapped in pink fur, making it hard to discern its exact form, but its muscles were grotesquely, horrifically twisted.

The face had an unnaturally stretched human mouth, warped into a muzzle like that of a horse or a lizard.

Because traces of the Saint’s former beauty still clung to it, the sight was even more unbearable.

『...A lotus blooms even from the mud of despair.』

Yet the voice was still that of a beautiful woman.

It was almost bewitching.

If there existed a monster that lured people to their doom with its voice, it would surely sound exactly like this.

"What the hell is that monster now...!"

At that moment, Nymph Trish shouted.

"You mustn’t look...!"

Her slender hands were covering the half-fairy child's eyes.

Indeed, seeing something like this would surely leave a traumatic scar.

The child would be having nightmares for days.

But the truly terrifying thing wasn't the creature’s grotesque appearance—it was the words that would spill from that long muzzle.

『They shall come as a horde, leaping over walls to lay waste to the land.』

As the monster muttered in the Saint’s voice, the flower petals that had wilted beneath our feet began to quiver.

They rustled—and then began to morph into a strange new form.

Flap flap.

It was a gray insect with wings and six legs.

Roughly the size of my palm.

"L-locusts...! It’s a swarm of locusts...!"

Stella shouted in panic.

"A locust swarm!"

As she said, a sudden eruption of locusts began to rise in waves across the flower field.

You might ask—why panic over a few bugs?

But here, locusts were destroyers—creatures with sharp, hooked jaws and devastating wings, capable of turning into a disaster once they gathered.

They were infamous for devouring everything in sight:

The crops in the fields, the fruits of the orchards, the grass of the plains, the flocks of sheep grazing there, the shepherds who tended them, and even their huts!

Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?

The number was uncountable.

My vision was entirely consumed by the swarming locusts;

I couldn’t even make out the faces of the young ladies standing right beside me.

Only the endless buzzing of wings filled the air.

『The foolish will only realize I am their master when they feel the sting of the whip.』

In the midst of it all, Saint Priga’s voice rang out, clear and unshaken.

Then—

Prick—!

Something bit me.

Bael—!

Now’s not the time for that!

━Hi-oong...!

It’s not you?

I hastily looked down at myself—and saw several of the flying locusts clinging to my clothes, biting and gnawing at my arms and legs.

They were also struggling to crawl into my clothing!

━Zzzz.

━Zzzzi.

━Jowjow...

"Eeeek...!"

A chilling terror filled my mind:

If this kept up, I might be eaten alive by bugs.

Even if I couldn't see it through the swarm, the young ladies must have been suffering just the same.

Wasn’t there any way out of this?

━Krrr...!

Leave it to you?

Bael, from within me, bristled with confidence.

Bael, after all, was an artificial spirit modeled after a spider.

And spiders hunted locusts—they were natural predators.

Maybe, just maybe, Bael could help.

"I don’t even care anymore!"

Snap.

I bit my thumb hard—and using my blood and shadow as a medium, I summoned the spider Bael into the material world.

Swish swish.

The shadow spider that appeared on my palm grew larger and larger—first to the size of a dog, then a calf, then finally as big as a house.

"Alright, Bael—evolve!"

━Hioooooooong...!!!

Responding to my shout, Bael raised its massive forelegs high into the air.

Maybe it was the larger size, but its voice now shook the surroundings with incredible power.

With one mighty roar, the swarming locusts scattered—fleeing into the darkened sky beyond.

━Zzzzzzz!

Thanks to that, my vision cleared—and I could finally see the young ladies huddled on the ground.

The only one who seemed relatively calm was Ayra, protected by a mana shield.

"That spider..."

Ayra’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Seeing the spider Bael she had once harbored in her own heart must have stirred some strange nostalgia.

━Krrr...!

But Bael didn’t waste a moment savoring the reunion—

It leapt forward with terrifying force, its house-sized body hurtling through the air.

Its target:

The monstrous Saint Priga, who was still chanting her ominous prayers.

The moment Bael crashed down upon her, Priga’s chanting ceased, replaced by a shriek.

『You filthy bug...! Get away from me...!』

━Hi-oong...

Bael seemed visibly dejected at being called a filthy bug.

Honestly, that was a bit harsh.

Maybe that was why—

The once-massive Bael began shrinking rapidly until it returned to its original palm-sized form.

"Bael—come back!"

I quickly retrieved her,

the paper spider fluttering back into the safety of my palm.

Even though we hadn’t been able to defeat Priga, just chasing away the locust swarm was accomplishment enough.

Once this is all over, I’ll brew some honey water for Bael as a reward.

Of course—

Once it’s all over.

Saint Priga was still very much alive.

As she opened her elongated muzzle to speak again—

"Silencing seal—Silent Cultivation!"

Flutter flutter flutter.

Countless papers flew in and plastered themselves over Priga’s mouth.

They were talismans hurled by Mirna—and with her mouth sealed, Priga struggled desperately, raking at the talismans with her long claws.

『......!』

"Saint Priga, I respected you once—if only a little.

But now you’ve fallen into a truly pathetic state!"

As Mirna shouted, Narmee, standing beside her, slammed her palm against the ground.

At once, some of the fallen locust corpses reanimated—spreading their wings and hurling themselves toward Priga.

"Everyone pull yourselves together! Now’s our chance!"

Narmee’s cry snapped me to attention.

Right—if we were going to defeat her, now was the time!

I shouted.

"Everyone, just beat her senseless!"

And so we all attacked Saint Priga with everything we had—

In every way imaginable.

As she was pounded and pummeled, the monstrous Priga began to shrink, shrinking—

"Stop it... Stop... It hurts too much..."

Until finally, she reverted to her ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) original human form, trembling pathetically.

As expected, even for a boss-class enemy, there was no overcoming sheer numbers.

"Ugh... ngh... so humiliating..."

She looked utterly defeated.

"If only... if only my true body were here..."

Ah, right.

The Saint’s body here wasn’t her real one.

It was a false body, crafted from my blood, nearby soil, and flowers.

If her true body had been here, things would’ve been far messier—and far more dangerous.

Breathing heavily, I asked the group.

"Is everyone alright? Any injuries?"

It hadn’t been an easy battle.

All of us had been scratched and torn up by the locust swarm—we were bleeding here and there.

Especially Nymph Trish—

Her leather outfit was almost completely shredded, and she was bleeding profusely.

It seemed she had been wounded while protecting the child.

But even so, Trish was more concerned about the young half-fairy.

"He’s not waking up! His forehead’s burning hot...!"

Trish, flustered and panicking.

Just as she said, the half-fairy’s face was burning red, his forehead as hot as a furnace.

"Uuuu..."

It didn’t look like an injury from the locusts.

Had his original illness—whatever it was—taken a turn for the worse at this terrible timing?

"The child..."

Even Saint Priga seemed moved by the pitiful sight.

She let out a deep sigh—and spoke in a small voice.

"...Children are innocent. May I examine him, just briefly?"

Healers from the Church were said to possess outstanding healing abilities.

And Priga, the so-called Saint, would surely know how to treat him.

But just then—

Whap!

Narmee, her face full of fury, raised her hand and slapped Priga hard across the head.

"Shut up, you witch! Give me back all the tithes you stole from me, you damned Church thief!"