Flag-Breaking Villainess: The Story of How Breaking the Romance Flags of the Otome Game's Protagonist Ended Up Creating New Flags Between the Reincarnated Villainess and the Heroine - Chapter 22

“Oh? Even my dear brother decided to show up.”

“I had my suspicions, but to think it was truly you, Tarmine.”

For a brief moment, Prince Allen’s face revealed a hint of sorrow. But it was quickly replaced by a resolute, princely expression.

“Prince Tarmine… I’m placing you under arrest. Surrender peacefully.”

“Like hell I will!”

Agitated, the werewolf ignored me completely and charged at Allen’s group instead.

“Go forth, my Shadow Corps!”

Just as I thought—Allen’s black-clad subordinates were indeed the Shadow Corps.

They had no visual depiction in the original story, so seeing them in action was oddly exciting.

The Shadow Corps fought far better than the mercenaries, skillfully wielding daggers and metallic wires against the werewolf.

Yet, in the end, they all fell—rendered incapable of fighting.

Hmm… Well, they certainly put up a valiant effort.

But the werewolf’s raw strength was simply too overwhelming.

It was clear that Tarmine had spared them, likely intending to use them later.

“To think you’d come this far.”

“A royal prince, born without magic… How does it feel, dear brother, to have your so-called elite warriors crushed by the very person you always looked down on?”

“O-ni-i-sa-ma!”

His inferiority complex was painfully obvious.

So that’s why he turned to cursed relics—to compensate for the power he was born without.

“…I have never once looked down on you, Tarmine.”

But Allen’s words fell on deaf ears.

I had seen enough.

“Prince Allen, leave the rest to me.”

“…I’m sorry to ask this of you. But please, don’t overdo it.”

“There’s nothing difficult about this.”

After observing the fight, I understood everything.

I am stronger.

The overconfident werewolf let out a menacing howl.

“Time for the main course!”

As he lunged at me, I punched him mid-air, sending him crashing to the ground.

The impact caused his body to bounce off the floor, and before he could recover, I grabbed his tail.

Like hammering a nail, I slammed him into the ground repeatedly.

“S-Stop—!”

Ignoring his protests, I swung him like a projectile, sending him hurtling toward the wall.

Before he could land, I caught up to him, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him against the wall with brutal force.

“Ack—gah!”

I dragged his face against the wall as I ran, grinding it against the rough stone surface.

“GWAHHHHHH!”

Releasing him, I delivered a relentless flurry of punches to his face.

As his body went limp, I gathered compressed air magic in my palm and blasted him through the mansion’s wall.

The explosion of debris sent dust billowing into the air, obscuring his form.

But he wasn’t dead.

I had held back, making sure my blows didn’t exceed the durability I had gauged from his earlier fights.

After a moment, Tarmine emerged from the wreckage, staggering.

“It’s… useless… My body… no matter how many times it’s torn apart… it will regenerate… Y-You should… just give up!”

Indeed, his wounds were healing.

But his regeneration was sluggish—nowhere near the instant recovery of an Elixir.

His legs wobbled, his breathing was ragged, and his words were filled with desperation.

His healing wasn’t infinite—I simply needed to outpace his regeneration to finish him.

I prepared to end this—but then, a thought crossed my mind.

Liel was terrified of him.

He had traumatized her.

If I defeated him myself, that fear might remain etched into her heart forever.

But if she was the one to strike the final blow—perhaps she could break free from that fear.

I knew all too well how unbearable it was to carry trauma.

And I refused to let her suffer through that.

Besides, I had already had my fun beating him senseless—now it was Liel’s turn.

I retreated to where Urs and Liel were waiting.

Turning to Urs, I gave my order.

“Urs, keep the werewolf pinned down.”

“Got it!”

As Urs leapt forward, the sound of brutal strikes and Tarmine’s agonized screams filled the air.

I ignored it for now, focusing on Liel.

“You will finish him.”

Her eyes widened.

“B-But… I’m not a fighter like you, Lady Lilia.”

“You don’t have to fight like me. Use your magic—your own power.”

With that, I removed the silver hair ornament from her hair and placed it gently in her hand.

“With this hair ornament, you can create an arrow of light. If you shoot it, the werewolf will fall. You can overcome your fear.”

I knew from my past life’s knowledge that a werewolf’s weakness was silver bullets. In this case, a silver arrow could serve as a substitute.

Furthermore, in Macius’s route, light magic had been used to neutralize cursed relics.

Combining the two would guarantee victory.

“I don’t want to lose my hair ornament.”

“I have another one just like it. I’ll put it on you again later.”

Since the hair ornament was also a magical artifact, I had a spare.

“In that case… I’ll do it.”

Determined, Liel began chanting her spell.

“Gold Palm (Let golden light rest in my hand).”

I was stunned.

So this was the moment when the title of the original game, Magical☆Academy: Gold Palm, was fulfilled.

It was the perfect magic for the final act.

Although the Elixir had restored Liel’s stamina, her mental strength was still not at its peak.

I stepped behind her, gently embracing her, ensuring she had the support she needed as she aimed the bow of light.

That’s when I remembered something from her diary—the entry about horseback riding lessons.

Feeling mischievous, I pressed my chest against her back, just a bit more than necessary.

Her focus sharpened, her determination surged.

…So she really does like my br3asts, huh?

“Liel, aim carefully. Finish this in one shot.”

“Yes! I’ll end this!”

The moment Liel released her arrow, Urs moved swiftly, adjusting the werewolf’s body to face the attack head-on.

The silver-infused arrow of light struck directly in his chest.

A choked howl escaped Prince Tarmine’s lips as he collapsed to his knees.

From the point of impact, light spread across his body, devouring his fur, stripping away his monstrous form piece by piece.

Gradually, his warped figure reverted—until at last, he was just a man again.

The glow faded, leaving behind a trembling, battered Prince Tarmine, naked, gasping for breath.

At his feet, only shattered fragments of his bracelet remained.

“My power… Gone… This can’t be happening… My dream—MY DREAM!”

His anguished scream echoed with despair.

And just like that, the crisis was over.

The destruction flag had—

been set upon him instead.