Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

“FALL TO MY BLADES!”

Samir’s daggers cleaved through many a bandit’s neck, slicing heads clean off. Next to him, Ayyub cast shockwaves of pure Aether through his palms, slamming enemies off their feet, his shield bashing their skulls in. Zayna’s hands blurred with fire, blasting limbs with each wave while firing in precise bursts to scatter archers. Abd covered them with ice fists and crushed spikes, while Faisal rushed in with his sword, taking on most of their attacks head-on.

They didn’t have stamina for long.

They didn’t have Aether to waste.

But they didn’t stop.

One after another, they carved bodies into the snow.

Their robes were drenched. Their teeth clenched. Their minds fraying at the edges.

They fought not like rebels, but like animals refusing the end.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. Then five. Then eight. Then ten.

Their injuries stacked up.

Zayna’s left leg dragged. Abd bled from the shoulder. Ayyub’s shield was nearly splintered. Samir had a deep gash across his chest. As did Faisal, though his was across his arm.

The five were slowing, the tide tightening.

It turned. Too many. Too fast. Too hard.

The bandits slammed into them like a wave. They tried to hold. Samir bellowed for them to stand strong, but they were too exhausted for their will to matter.

Death was upon them, and they could do nothing to stop it.

From the camp, Kabir screamed hoarsely, pointing at the battlefield:

“THEY’RE FALLING!”

Rami cursed and slammed a fist against a wall of crates.

“They bought us good time! Let’s get them back!”

“B-But it’s not enough!”

Sarah reluctantly disagreed, even though she herself knew that the cohort was on its last leg, about to fall at any moment.

And she wasn’t the only one who knew.

The entire camp did.

Children peeked out from tents. Spouses clutched one another. Eyes locked onto the battlefield where their heroes—those first brave five—were about to be swallowed whole.

They wanted to do something, anything, but they weren’t fast enough.

They weren’t strong enough.

And they couldn’t…

They couldn’t leave their Lord undefended.

He was their only unwavering light in this darkness.

But they didn’t need to.

“Elder Brother. It’s time.”

Malik heard the call inside his head.

A call to action, and he followed through.

THUMP!

A pulse of air blasted outward from the center of camp, mimicking a heartbeat.

And those who were looking saw it.

Malik… rose.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t even glance around.

He looked to the sky where Sinbad circled and nodded once.

BOOM.

He vanished.

The next second, the battlefield exploded.

A comet had fallen from the sky.

That was Malik.

A crater formed where he landed.

A tidal wave of bodies, limbs, shields, and weapons, all tossed into the air.

Silence followed—then chaos.

Screams. Horror. Disbelief.

Hearing no one of it, Malik stood at its heart, his cloak fluttering, his hands empty, his face blank.

Samir was kneeling. One eye swollen shut, panting.

Zayna was on the ground, clutching her ribs. Her eyes barely open.

Faisal had lost a hand.

Ayyub couldn’t stand anymore.

Abd was already unconscious.

“…You shouldn’t have gone that far.”

One could barely hear his monotone voice, but somehow everyone did.

“These injuries were avoidable.”

Zayna choked on her blood but still smiled.

“I’d rather… get torn apart and stitched together again… than let my family and you down, my Lord…”

Malik looked at her for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

“Understood.”

Without another word, he lifted Samir and Ayyub—one over each shoulder—and vanished.

BOOM.

Just like that, he returned to camp. Dropped them next to the healers, their priests.

A second later—BOOM—he was back.

Then again. Abd and Faisal. Vanished.

Then again. Zayna.

But this time… he carried her gently.

One arm under her knees, the other supporting her shoulders, like she was something fragile. Which she was now.

She was barely conscious, but her eyes opened just once as he cradled her.

“My Lord…”

There was no need for her to speak.

“I know.”

BOOM.

He laid her down next to her cohort, where their two priests were already weaving holy light, packing herbs, and cleaning wounds.

Their families wept around them.

Samir’s son reached for his father’s mangled hand.

Ayuub’s wife refused to stop kissing his forehead.

Faisal’s father gently patted his son’s head.

Abd had his little daughter tightly hugging his chest.

And Zayna looked at her mother’s eyes with obvious pride.

“…”

Malik said nothing.

He stood above them for a second.

One heartbeat.

Two.

And then he turned away.

Without pause, without breath, without any reaction at all, he sat right back down in the center of the camp, in the same spot, and resumed cultivation.

Ice clashed against fire.

Inside, his body screamed. But outside?

Stone. Unchanging stone.

The camp watched him.

They watched him long.

Yet none said anything.

They remained silent as he did.

Until four new men stepped forward.

They didn’t hesitate.

Each of them knelt. Placed a hand over their second heart.

Each of them said their name:

“Jibril, my Lord.”

“Nashir, my Lord.”

“Faraz, my Lord.”

“Ghassan, my Lord.”

Malik didn’t open his eyes.

But they felt it.

The acknowledgment.

They heard it too:

“Go forth.”

And that was all they needed.

The four rose and charged toward the darkness.

They would match their first light and eradicate their opposition.

Their feet barely touched the snow, and their weapons were already glowing.

This battlefield wouldn’t dare forget them.

Back in the camp, the wounded were being treated, and food was passed to the children, a mix of their own supplies and ones found from the storage tent. A tent with a surprisingly few barrels of food, not at all enough for a camp of this size.

Perhaps, and most likely, that was Cassim’s doing.

His actions were inconsistent, though they didn’t care for that.

The camp was focused on survival.

Khamal and Kabir coordinated the next waves.

Spells were refreshed. Barricades were reinforced, and families hugged tighter.

Meanwhile, Malik slowly opened his eyes.

They turned to the four.

To his second light.

Earlier, he didn’t flinch.

Because they were protecting him.

To repay them, he would become what they needed.

Because in this world of dying lights and crumbling hopes, he was something more.

He knew these people would follow him into the dark.

Again and again.

Until the last one fell.

Until the ten Jinn arrived.

And maybe even after that.

He didn’t know why, but they sure did.

For when Malik opened his eyes…

They glowed like the dawn.

And for a moment—

They believed.

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