My Maids are All Final Villainesses

Chapter 75: Relaxing young master

Clay lay across the wide bed, his body completely at ease, yet his mind had begun to wander far beyond the quiet room.

His breathing deepened.

His fingers twitched slightly against the sheets.

Then—

"No...!"

The word escaped his lips without restraint.

His brows tightened.

In his dream, everything felt different.

He stood alone in a place that stretched endlessly in all directions. The sky above was dark, not with clouds, but with something heavier. Something that felt like pressure pressing down from above. The ground beneath his feet was cracked and barren, as if it had been torn apart by countless battles.

And in the middle of it—

He stood.

But not as he was now.

Not relaxed.

Not amused.

Not in control.

He looked like someone who had lost everything.

His body felt lighter, weaker, incomplete. The strength that once filled him was gone, stripped away as if it had never belonged to him in the first place. His hands trembled slightly as he raised them before his eyes.

This...

His breathing grew uneven.

This is... wrong.

Around him, shadows moved.

Figures.

Many of them.

They stood at a distance, watching.

Judging.

Waiting.

And then—

He felt it.

Pain.

Sharp.

Real.

His eyes widened as he looked down.

A sword had pierced through his stomach.

The blade gleamed faintly under the dark sky, its edge buried deep inside him.

Blood dripped slowly onto the ground.

He did not move.

For a moment—

He simply stared.

Then—

A strange smile appeared on his face.

"Finally..."

His voice came out hoarse, yet filled with something that was not fear.

"Someone who can hurt me..."

His fingers wrapped around the blade weakly.

The pain spread through his body, but instead of resisting it, he welcomed it.

His breathing slowed.

His expression softened.

For the first time in that dream—

He did not feel alone.

...

In the real world, inside the quiet room, the door opened slowly.

Cerys stepped in.

Her movements were silent, her presence calm.

She had come to check on him.

The young master had said he wanted rest, and she respected that. Still, something inside her urged her to confirm that he was truly at peace.

Then she heard him.

"No... no..."

Her gaze turned toward the bed.

She saw him lying there, his expression tense, his voice low but filled with emotion.

"He... is dreaming."

She watched him for a moment longer.

"Hurt... defeated..."

The words reached her clearly.

Cerys let out a quiet breath.

"So even in his dreams..."

Her voice was soft.

"He carries burdens..."

She did not step closer immediately.

Instead, she stood there, watching.

Then—

Clay’s voice stopped.

Silence filled the room again.

For a brief moment, everything felt still.

Then—

His eyes opened.

They met hers instantly.

"You’re here?"

His voice was calm, as if nothing had happened.

Cerys bowed her head slightly.

"Yes, young master."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Did I disturb you?"

Clay shook his head lightly.

"No."

He pushed himself up slightly, resting his back against the soft cushions.

His expression returned to its usual composure.

"Did you tell them my order?"

Cerys nodded.

"They will protect the Valmont Family."

She paused briefly.

"And my Foreshaw Family as well."

Clay nodded once.

"Good."

Everything seemed normal.

Then—

Cerys spoke again.

"There is one more thing."

Clay raised a brow.

"What?"

Her voice remained steady.

"You ordered the tribes to strengthen the beasts to their fullest potential."

Clay blinked.

"And then..."

She continued.

"They will deliver those beasts to you."

Silence.

Clay stared at her.

"What?"

Cerys tilted her head slightly.

"Young master?"

Clay suddenly sat up straighter.

"Oh..."

He rubbed his face quickly.

"Oh shit."

He muttered under his breath.

"System."

He leaned back slightly.

"I forgot."

He let out a short breath.

"I was acting like someone extremely powerful... someone who is completely alone."

He paused.

Then his expression changed.

His eyes widened slightly.

"Wait."

He looked at Cerys.

Then away.

Then back again.

His thoughts began to race.

Don’t tell me...

He swallowed.

"System..."

His voice dropped.

Don’t tell me this girl is actually going to find strong opponents for me.

He imagined it for a moment.

Cerys moving quietly.

Observing.

Selecting.

Guiding threats toward him.

All in the name of "pampering."

His face stiffened.

That’s not good.

Then—

He stopped.

His expression slowly eased.

Wait.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Even in that dream...

He remembered it.

The version of himself who stood at the peak.

The version who faced countless enemies.

The version who had already surpassed everything.

Those beasts... even at their fullest...

He exhaled slowly.

They are not enough.

He leaned back again.

"Well..."

He waved one hand lightly.

"Whatever."

His tone returned to normal.

"Those beasts won’t make it."

He glanced at her.

"Leave for now."

He closed his eyes again.

"I want to rest alone."

Cerys watched him for a moment.

Then she bowed.

"Yes, young master."

She turned and left the room quietly.

...

Outside.

At the border town gate, activity filled the air.

Workers moved back and forth, carrying materials, repairing broken sections, rebuilding what had been destroyed.

Knights stood guard.

Villagers assisted where they could.

Borzoi was there.

So was Borv.

Both of them worked alongside the others, their presence drawing attention but also providing reassurance.

The once chaotic battlefield had begun to take shape again.

Then—

They felt it.

A presence.

Calm.

Controlled.

Familiar.

They turned at once.

"Maid of the Young Warchief."

Their voices came out together.

Respectful.

Acknowledging.

Cerys did not stop.

She walked past them without a glance.

Her focus was elsewhere.

She moved toward the still open dimensional crack.

The air around it flickered.

Energy pulsed faintly along its edges.

She stopped before it.

Then spoke.

"Are you all still there?"

For a moment, there was no answer.

Then—

A voice came from the other side.

"Yes."

Another followed.

"We are here, Madam Maid."

More voices joined.

"We have not left."

"We are listening."

Cerys nodded slightly.

"I see."

She looked at the crack calmly.

Then she spoke again.

"I know what you are planning."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Her voice did not rise.

It did not need to.

"You intend to strengthen the beasts."

Her gaze remained steady.

"You intend to let them evolve."

"You intend to push them to their limits."

She paused.

"And then send them to my young master."

No one answered.

No one denied it.

Cerys continued.

"To gain favor."

"To help him."

"To ease his loneliness."

The words settled heavily.

Then she added—

"He knows."

That single statement struck harder than anything before.

On the other side of the crack, the Shaman and the Warchiefs froze.

Their expressions changed instantly.

Shock.

Confusion.

Disbelief.

"How...?"

One of them whispered.

Cerys did not explain.

"He knows."

She repeated.

"And it will not be enough."

Her tone remained calm.

"So do not bother."

The silence stretched.

No voice came in reply.

No argument.

No explanation.

Nothing.

Cerys watched for a moment longer.

Then turned.

She began to walk away.

Her steps were steady.

Unhurried.

As if the matter had already been settled.

Then—

A voice called out urgently from behind.

"Wait!"

Another followed immediately.

"Madam Maid!"