Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 154: Chapter 19

The Holy Church.

It functioned as the world’s silent shepherd, a monolithic neutral organization tasked with a singular, divine mandate: ensuring that the “mundane” world remained blissfully unaware of the supernatural tempests raging in the shadows.

To the average citizen, they were a charitable religious institution; to those who wielded Ki or contracted with spirits, they were the ultimate arbiters of the Status Quo.

They offered their prayers to the supreme deity Haedeus—the Architect of the Cosmos, the Savior of Mankind, and the Only One True God.

The reach of the Church was absolute. It was the most recognized religion in human history, bolstered by a theological phenomenon: nearly every ancient mythology, when translated back to its roots, contained a reference to a Supreme Deity whose attributes mirrored Haedeus.

Whether called the All-Father, the Prime Mover, or the Original Light, the Church maintained that these were merely linguistic filters for the one true divinity.

However, this universal claim had one glaring, jagged exception: Greek Mythology.

The Church viewed the Greek myths as the ultimate heresy, and the reason was a linguistic and theological insult they could not abide.

In the Greek pantheon, the God of the Underworld was named Hades—a name nearly identical to the Supreme Haedeus.

If it was just that, then they wouldn’t make such a fuss, but in the Greek accounts, this “Hades” was described as a subordinate, a grim figure inferior to the lightning-wielding King Zeus.

To the Christians and the high-ranking clergy of the Holy Church, the implication that the Supreme Deity could be “Zeus’s brother” or a “The Unseen One” was an unforgivable blasphemy.

Some forbidden historical accounts even dared to suggest that Hades and Haedeus were two sides of the same coin—a claim that sparked centuries of holy fury.

Throughout history, the Church’s influence had directed empires and crusaders to systematically dismantle the Greek heritage.

They burned their libraries, plundered their temples, and humiliated their culture at every turn.

This campaign of erasure only ceased when the Kingdom of Greece finally collapsed during the chaos of the World War, leaving the once-great nation a broken remnant that could never truly recover.

At this moment, in the 24th District, tucked away in a cathedral of white stone and stained glass closest to the ruins of Saint Shinomiya High School, a nun knelt in profound silence.

She was a figure of stillness amidst the rising chaos of the city.

Possessing a curly orange hair, wearing a nun outfit that seems to just emphasize her unholy figure that would surely tempt men to commit a sin.

Before her stood the Great Altar, dominated by a massive, gleaming golden cross.

Revolving around the center of the cross were ten perfectly sculpted golden planets, caught in a perpetual, clockwork orbit—a representation of Haedeus’s dominion over the celestial spheres.

Just then, the silence of the hall was broken by the frantic echo of footsteps on marble as another nun rushed into the sanctuary, her face pale.

She bowed deeply, her voice trembling with urgency.

“Sister Yuria, forgive the intrusion… but it is an emergency,” she gasped. “The situation at the Saint Shinomiya Highschool has escalated beyond the threshold of containment. A group of young individuals with immense supernatural abilities have engaged in open warfare. The damage is no longer localized; the tremors and the spirit pressure are starting to bleed into the mundane sectors. The civilians are beginning to notice the ’anomalies’.”

The praying nun, Yuria, slowly opened her eyes, they were clear, calm, and held the weight of centuries of dogma.

She let out a soft, tired sigh, giving off the feeling that she was a woman who had seen many civilizations rise and fall under the same sun.

“The hubris of youth,” she whispered, her voice echoing through the vaulted ceiling. “They play with the fire of the spirits and forget that the world belongs to the Father.”

She rose to her feet with a fluid, practiced grace, her habit rustling against the stone.

“Very well,” she said, her tone hardening into that of a commander. “If they cannot contain their gifts within the shadows, then the Church must remind them why the shadows exist. Let us go.”

*

*

*

Saint Shinomiya Highschool.

The auditorium, now a hollowed-out shell exposed to the starry sky, was deathly silent as all eyes fixed on the emerald phantom of the Eastern Dragon.

It coiled through the air, its presence massive and ancient, shielding the unconscious Jun with its translucent, shimmering body.

Seijirou stood silently, his hands on his pockets, his golden Ki slowly receding as he stared at the manifestation.

He was shocked—a rare crack in his otherwise stoic composure.

Behind him, Suzune, Rindou, and even the analytical Haruka were frozen in disbelief.

As a Karyoku Users, they have never realized that their contracted Spirits can actually materilised themselves to protect them contractors.

Even Sosuke and Hari, who had navigated the complex politics and occult secrets of the Bully Society for years, stood paralyzed; they had never once heard of a contracted spirit materializing of its own volition to protect a contractor.

Seijirou took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked into the jade lanterns that were the dragon’s eyes.

“I can agree to your terms and let him go,” he said, his voice echoing in the ruin. “But first, tell me: how can you materialize yourself and even converse with us? Can all spirits do what you are doing? If so, are the spirits always monitoring their contractor? Or… is it possible that spirits can control their contractor?”

The weight of the question was heavy.

For Seijirou, the thought of his friends being puppets to ancient entities was intolerable.

If a contract meant surrendering one’s will, he would have Suzune and the others break their bonds immediately, regardless of the loss in power.

The dragon stared at him, its long whiskers drifting in a non-existent wind, and shook its massive head. “A spirit is, after all, just a spirit. We are entities of essence, not of flesh. We cannot naturally interact with the material world, and therefore, we cannot control our contractor. However, if we so wish, we can observe the material world through the eyes of our contractor and sense them if they are in danger. Some would help and save their contractor, like me… but some would simply watch, indifferent to the fate of a mortal vessel.”

“I see,” Seijirou nodded, a visible tension leaving his shoulders. “Then tell me: how can you materialize yourself now?”

The dragon’s voice resonated within their minds, its voice incredibly deep, echoing as if they were in a cave. “This is actually a one-time thing that all spirits possess. If a contractor is about to die, they can reach into the deepest part of the soul and contact their spirit. By sacrificing the contract—in other words, surrendering their Karyoku and their ability to ever wield our power again—they can temporarily summon their spirit to help them. Of course, it is up to the spirit themselves if they wish to agree. I chose to honor our time together.”

Seijirou nodded slowly, feeling a sense of relief that the power his friends wielded wasn’t a hidden trap of possession. “Very well. You can take your contractor. But his companion stays.”

The dragon stared at Seijirou for a long beat, acknowledging the King’s authority, and nodded.

It brought its massive, translucent claws down, gently picking up the broken body of Jun before spiraling into the night sky, vanishing into the clouds.

Everyone stared silently and still in shock at the retreating dragon.

For Sosuke, even though the dragon said that they cannot control their contractor…but what if?

Even Haruka was frowning, her mind already trying to come up with ways to prevent such things from happening, and safety protocols if such thing did happen one day.

Everyone has a lot of thoughts in their mind, but they were all silent.

But that silence was shattered by a jagged, manic laugh.

Everyone turned toward the crater where Yoshiro suddenly staggered to his feet. His face was still a mask of blood and broken bone, but his eyes were wide with a desperate, localized insanity.

“Hahaha! I heard it! I heard everything!” Yoshiro shrieked, his golden mane flickering. “So as long as I ask my spirit to kill all of you by sacrificing my contract, then everything’s fine! DIE! ALL OF YOU DIE!”

The air began to warp behind him as the phantom image of the Nemean Lion materialized, its roar beginning to solidify into a physical shockwave.

But before anyone could make a move to stop the desperate boy, a streak of blinding gold descended from the heavens.

It was a long golden cross, its base ending in a viciously sharp, barbed spear tip.

It shot down with the speed of a thunderbolt, hitting the lion phantom squarely in its center.

The impact didn’t cause an explosion; it simply hit its target silently, piercing through the body of the lion.

And in that instant, the Lion spirit disintegrated into golden glass shards in an instant, its essence completely neutralized.

The battlefield froze, and from the night sky, four figures descended with a quiet, terrifying grace.

They were four Nuns, their habits fluttering in the wind.

Three of them landed around Yoshiro, their movements clinical and swift as they subdued him before he could even let out another breath.

The nun leading them, Yuria—the one from the altar—stepped forward onto the stage.

Her eyes were cold, scanning the ruin with an air of divine disappointment as she ignored Seijirou for a moment, her gaze fixing on the leader of the Saints.

“24th District Leader of the Bully Society, Matsuda Sosuke,” she said, her voice carrying an authority that made the Ki in the room go stagnant. “Your charade has gone on long enough. It is time to stop.”