THE VILLAIN'S LOVE GROWS FOR HIM.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. DISCLOSURE.

Red.
Blood.
There was blood everywhere.
The pungent smell of blood that was shed this day filled the corners of the palace.
The sword that rested in his hand was smeared with blood, its red color dripping down like a small stream of water. Its colour specially darker in shade, tarnished by the agony, fury and violence of the man who had painted the part of the palace with blood redder than one had ever seen.
His silhouette looking haggard and lonelier than ever, his aura appearing miserable, distorting as if the pain that person was feeling was being projected on his spiritual energy, melancholic and tragic, like the fallen image of a tragic hero from old tales.

The author did not exaggerate the part describing the scene in the book.

Hitomu stared at Zarad. His clothes were covered in blood. His halo was distorting ready to go out of control any moment. Just like his fate laid down, the man standing before him was a man walking on the edge, ready to rampage any time.
But what made Hitomu most afraid was the pair of lifeless eyes looking back at him with no hints of emotion. Zarad's once ocean like pair of eyes twinkling with something more had lost its lustre, replaced by a pitch black abyss of lifeless eyes lost in the sea of madness.
The look on his face reminded Hitomu of his own expression he had back when he was on earth. Just like Zarad, he was also once a man walking on the edge. Therefore, the relation he could make in between at that moment was profound and deep, penetrating his soul and this realisation made his sour shudder with regret and guilt.
He couldn't even make a sound or move his lips to speak.
For the first time in his entire life he was feeling this sense of speechlessness, one that made him feel as if there was a lump in his throat, preventing him from moving his voice.

Maybe...he should have stopped it.

For the first time after crossing over he once again felt the curse called regret.
While thinking so he never removed his gaze from Zarad.
The man staggered forward, dragging his feets towards him. His shoulders were hunched back looking extremely drained and tired.
The nearer he came the more Hitomu could feel his heart beating against his chest anxiously. When the other person was only a step away from him his heart froze, as if it had stopped breating.
But Zarad did not even look him in the eyes.

He brushed past him as if Hitomu was not there.

And in that fleeting moment, Hitomu got a more profound look on Zarad's face, which had a few stains of blood on the right side of his face, eyes red and lifeless, his eyelashes trembling slightly. His inner core was shook to this extent that he had lost himself in the feeling of agony. Nothing seemed to appear significant in his eyes, his own consciousness dissolving and withering away along with his feelings of sorrow and rage.
His back appeared even more miserable.

Hitomu did not know how to react. He was stupefied and was drowning in the sea of regret and guilt. But when he noticed his miserable back retreating further and further his feet moved on their own, following the other person's track.
During this time he followed Zarad, his eyes fixated at him keenly. And the more he watched and followed the more his mind went blank.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace a fierce battle was taking place.
There were also a group of people dealing with the magical beast at the town.
With bare hands these people were able to attack the magical beast, a feat a normal person could not achieve. Their hits appeared to be extremely powerful, incurring damage on the beasts.

"Who...who are they?" The people watching them fight, lunging back and forth at the beasts questioned in silence, starring at the scene before them wide eyed.

When they witnessed one of the bulky and mascular man rip off one horn of the beast using his hands their eyes were wide with horror.

"Th...they...they are not normal people....monsters......." Many amongst the crowd began to panic more.