The Villains Must Win

Chapter 357: Alistair Cain 17

The lake.

Yes, that sounded promising.

If any dramatic event were to happen, it would be near a body of water.

It was a rule of fiction. Lakes meant drownings, secret meetings, forbidden kisses, or mysterious creatures rising from the depths.

Hope renewed, Selene made her way there.

The path was lined with ancient trees whose twisted roots broke through the earth like skeletal fingers. Wind whispered through the branches, carrying the scent of damp moss and something metallic.

The lake soon came into view.

It was wide and eerily still, its surface reflecting the cloudy sky like a cracked mirror. A few groups of students gathered around—some chatting, others skipping stones, couples sitting too close for comfort.

Selene wandered aimlessly, scanning faces.

Nothing.

No suspicious cloaked figures.

No brooding vampires.

No sudden screams.

Just... normal teenagers.

"How disappointing," she muttered.

She circled the lake once, twice, hoping something would catch her attention. But everything felt painfully mundane.

She was about to leave when—

Thud.

She collided with something solid.

Or rather, someone.

Selene staggered back, rubbing her forehead. When she looked up, her breath hitched.

A man stood before her.

Pale. Unnaturally so. His skin looked like moonlight stretched thin over bone. Dark shadows hollowed his eyes, making them appear sunken and ancient. His lips were cracked, bluish, as if he hadn’t tasted warmth in years.

He blocked her path.

"Hello..." he croaked.

His voice was wrong.

It scraped against her ears like rusted metal. Like something dragged from a grave and forced to speak.

A chill slithered down her spine as his foul smell assaulted her nose.

"...Hi?" Selene answered hesitantly.

Before she could take a step back, the world tilted.

Her vision blurred.

Her limbs went numb.

"W-what?" Was the rotting smell really that bad that she would pass out?

Darkness swallowed her.

====

Selene woke to chanting.

Low. Rhythmic. Dozens of voices murmuring words she didn’t understand. Her head throbbed, and when she tried to move—

She couldn’t.

Her arms were bound.

Her legs restrained.

Cold stone pressed against her back.

Selene’s eyes flew open.

She lay on an altar.

Torches burned around her, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls. Figures in dark cloaks surrounded her, faces hidden beneath deep hoods. Their voices merged into one dreadful hymn.

Her breath hitched when she realized—

She was naked.

Bare skin met cold air, goosebumps rising instantly. Thick ropes restrained her wrists and ankles, stretched outward like some virgin offering.

Panic clawed at her chest.

"What the hell—?!"

She struggled, but the bindings were too tight. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought it might drown out the chanting.

The cloaked figures swayed as they prayed.

"...Great. Just great," Selene muttered bitterly. "This is how it starts, huh?"

Not even a full week in the academy and she was already kidnapped by cultists.

Of course.

"Of all the side quests," she whispered, "I get sacrificial virgin

."

A tall figure stepped forward.

His cloak was darker than the rest, embroidered with crimson symbols that pulsed faintly like living veins. When he raised his hands, the chanting stopped.

Silence crashed over the chamber.

"Tonight," he declared, "we offer her blood to awaken the ancient one."

Selene’s stomach dropped.

Oh.

Oh no.

Not the ancient one.

She strained against her bindings.

"Listen," she said quickly, "I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not even important! I don’t have rare blood, I don’t have special powers—I’m literally just a normal human being!"

No response.

The cult leader turned to a table where a ceremonial dagger lay, its blade curved like a crescent moon.

"Please," Selene continued, panic bleeding into her voice. "We can talk about this. We can negotiate. I’ll even help you summon your demon or whatever if you just—don’t kill me?"

The blade gleamed as he picked it up.

"Well," she muttered weakly, "this escalated fast."

Her heart hammered as he approached.

The cloaked figures began chanting again, louder now, their voices rising in feverish excitement.

Selene shut her eyes.

I just wanted to explore the map.

Selene forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

Slow.

Panic would not save her. Panic never saved anyone.

"Listen," she said, forcing her voice steady despite the fear crawling up her spine. "You’re making a grave mistake. Have you seen the emblem on my cloak? It belongs to Lord Alistair Cain. If you so much as lay a finger on me, you’ll have to answer to him."

The chanting grew louder, echoing off stone walls slick with moisture.

Alright. That didn’t work. Selene thought.

Ancient one, the cult leader had said.

Selene cracked one eye open.

He loomed over her now, dagger in hand. The blade glimmered wickedly in torchlight, its edge thin enough to slice air itself. Runes crawled along its surface like living insects, glowing faintly crimson.

Her stomach twisted.

"So," she said weakly, "uh... do you at least buy me dinner first?"

One of the cloaked figures snorted.

The leader paused.

Slowly, he tilted his head.

"You mock the sacred rite," he said calmly.

"Sorry," Selene croaked. "Defense mechanism."

He studied her, dark eyes unreadable beneath the hood.

"You were chosen."

"Oh, lucky me."

His gaze drifted over her body, clinical, detached. "Pure. Untouched. Virgin. The perfect offering."

Selene’s blood ran cold. "Actually... I know plenty of women who fit that description," she blurted, desperation creeping into her voice. "There’s one in particular—Caroline. She’s gentle, kind. The kind of girl who still believes in innocence. Long blond hair, skin like porcelain. The sort people call pure without even knowing her. Trust me, she’s exactly your type."

She forced a shaky laugh. "She’s a virgin of all virgins! You’d like her. A lot."

The chanting intensified again, a wave of sound that rattled her bones. Several cultists stepped closer, their shadows swallowing her in waves.

She tugged harder against her restraints.

"Listen," she pleaded, "I don’t even belong here. I just arrived. Surely you’ve got better candidates? Someone like Caroline? I’ll personally offer her to you. Promise!"

The leader lifted the dagger.

"No more words."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

This is it.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Great.

It was not like she would really die, but . . . 20% plot progression was still low for her liking to return to the void.

Though she could try again, she didn’t want to.

Then—

A scream cut through the chamber.