Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 334

Chapter 334: The Fall of the Iron Wall
[Lavinia’s POV—The Battle with the Iron Wall]

Steel screamed.

Fire burned.

Blood rained.

And General Luke’s blade came down on mine like the wrath of a thousand storms.

CLAAAAANG!!!

The impact rattled through my bones, nearly tearing my grip open. Luke did not fight like a man. He fought like a fortress.

Cold.

Immovable.

Merciless.

He pushed me back a single step—but that single step felt like losing a mile. My boots skidded across the blood-soaked ground. I caught myself, spinning, letting the momentum of his strike propel me into a counterattack.

SWISH—!!!

My sword arced toward his ribs—but Luke caught it on the flat of his blade with terrifying ease.

“Is that all, Princess?” he growled. “Is this the Lioness of Eloria I heard of?”

I gritted my teeth, muscles straining.

“I don’t roar,” I hissed. “I bite.”

I twisted, forcing my weight to the side—and slid out from under him. Luke’s blade slammed into the ground, blowing dirt into the air.

I cut at his ribs—

SHHHHK!!!

The blade bit into his armor—deep enough to draw blood—but not enough to slow him. He spun with impossible speed, striking with the butt of his sword—

THUD!!!

His strike slammed into my shoulder. My armor took most of the damage—but it pushed me backward at least two steps.

He was strong.

Stronger than any man I had ever fought. Luke lunged again—his blade slicing through the air like a guillotine. I ducked—but he was already anticipating.

His boot slammed into my knee.

CRACK!!!

Pain shot up my leg. My balance faltered—just for a heartbeat—enough. Luke took that heartbeat and tore it open.

SHING!!!

His blade flashed.

This time—He didn’t aim for my armor. He aimed for the one place my plate didn’t cover:

My shoulder.

“—!—”

I jerked back, but I was too late.

SLAAAAASH!!!

The sword sliced into the exposed flesh between my pauldron and collarbone. A deep, clean cut. Hot pain exploded through my arm—My fingers spasmed— Blood splattered across my chest armor—

But I didn’t scream.

I didn’t gasp.

I didn’t flinch.

Luke froze for half a heartbeat. Shock flickered across his stern face.

“You did not…” he muttered, confused, “even react.”

Blood dripped down my arm. Warm. Steady. Too much. But my voice came out cold—

“You think,” I rasped, tightening my grip on my sword despite the pain shooting through my arm, “a little pain… will stop me?”

Luke’s eyes narrowed.

“Then allow me to give you more.”

He swung—fast. But my pain sharpened my focus instead of dulling it. His next strike—I caught.

CLAAAAANG!!!

Our swords clashed again, sparks bursting between us. My injured shoulder screamed. But my other arm—my good arm—pushed with everything I had.

I stepped in close.

Too close for his blade to swing.

He realized too late. My elbow smashed into his jaw—

CRACK!!!

He grunted, stumbling a step back. I slashed across his chest—

SHHH!!!

His armor split, blood blooming beneath. Luke’s eyes widened—not in pain—in respect.

“You’re still standing,” he said, voice low, breath rough. “With an open wound… that should cripple you.”

Blood kept dripping from my shoulder, warm against my skin.

I smiled. Sharp. Bloody.

“I told you,” I whispered. “I bite.”

Luke roared.

A raw, animal sound—nothing disciplined or controlled. A sound ripped from a man who finally realized he was not facing a princess…but a predator.

He charged.

I charged.

CHAAAAAANG!!!!

Our swords collided again, vibrating through our bones. I hissed through my teeth, “Where is that kid?”

His jaw tightened. “Do you think I would tell you, Princess?”

He kicked me—hard. I stumbled back, boots digging trenches into the blood-soaked ground. But I only smirked, wiping a smear of my own blood across my cheek.

“Let me offer you something, General…” I tilted my head, eyes narrowed like a hunting cat.”Surrender. Join me. Fight for Eloria. It will benefit you far more than dying here.”

Our swords clashed again—brutal, close-range, and furious.

He snarled, blocking my strike, “For that… you need to win this battle first, Princess.”

His blade slid dangerously close to my neck.

“Because once you do…” he continued, voice low, breath mixing with dust and iron, “…this general, this army—they will already be yours. Until then…” his eyes sharpened. “I protect the men I lead.”

I drove my knee into his stomach—

THUD!!!

He grunted, stumbling back, but not falling.

“You’re loyal,” I said, circling him. “I like that. Rare… and useful.”

His expression didn’t flicker.

“And I also know you wouldn’t leave that stupid kid sitting in the camp,” I continued. “He must be somewhere here… right?”

His face didn’t break.

Not a blink.Not a twitch.Not a crack in the wall.

Luke exhaled softly. “Why don’t you find him yourself?”

I raised my sword.

“Oh, I will.”

And then—

I roared:

“HALDOR!!!!!!!!!”

The battlefield stopped for a second.

Luke froze. His eyes widened—shock cracking his stoic mask for the first time.

“…Haldor?” He muttered, disbelief dripping into his tone.

Before he could process anything further—

“YOUR HIGHNESS! YOUR ORDER!!!” Haldor’s voice thundered across the battlefield, powerful and commanding.

Luke’s head whipped toward the sound. And when he saw the figure cutting through soldiers like a living blade, his face drained.

“He… he is—” he whispered, stunned.

That was the mistake. His mistake. The opening I was waiting for.

SHHHHK—!!!

My sword plunged into his abdomen. Not deep enough to kill—but deep enough to break him.

“—ugh!!” Luke staggered, falling hard to one knee.

I leaned in close, voice cold and merciless. “You should never lose focus during the war… General.”

He coughed, groaning, one hand gripping his side. “Tch… you… little…”

“See?” I smirked. “You lost your balance.”

He tried to steady himself, breath ragged. “That man… Haldor… he is—”

I didn’t let him finish. Hoofbeats thundered behind me—

Osric.

He halted beside me, sword drawn, eyes widening at Luke’s collapsed form.

“You… actually defeated him,” Osric breathed. “You defeated the general of Meren.”

I didn’t even look at Luke anymore.

Cold. Detached. Already thinking ahead.

“Arrest him,” I ordered. “Bind his wounds enough so he doesn’t die—but do not heal him.Not until I finish what matters.”

Osric bowed sharply. “Yes, Your Highness.”

I mounted my horse, gripping the reins with my blood-drenched fingers.

“The prince first,” I said. “Then… we deal with the general.”

Osric nodded once.

The sun dipped lower, casting the battlefield in a crimson glow.

Perfect.

I kicked my horse forward. Hooves thundered across broken ground. My cloak whipped behind me like a trail of crimson fire.

And with every stride, my voice echoed through the dying battlefield:

“FIND THE PRINCE! DRAG HIM OUT—HE IS HERE. SOMEWHERE.”

The hunt had begun. And I would find that child—even if I had to tear the entire kingdom apart to get to him.

***

[Haldor’s POV—War Ground—Before the Sunset]

Only one order: “DRAG THE PRINCE OUT—HE’S HERE SOMEWHERE!”

I kicked my horse into a full gallop.

Mud sprayed. Blood splattered against my armor. The air felt thick—hot with iron, choked with dust—but none of it slowed me. I scanned the chaos with a soldier’s eye and a predator’s instinct.

Kaelren.

The brat who hid behind armies. The coward who used his men as shields. The child who dared to aim for her head.

I would find him.

I would drag him to her feet.

And if she commanded me to tear him apart piece by piece—I would. Hooves thundered beneath me as I swerved past a collapsing shield line, Elorian and Meren soldiers tangled in brutal combat.

“SEARCH EVERY TENT!” I ordered it for my division. “CHECK THE WAGONS! THE WOUNDED! ANYONE HIDING—BRING THEM OUT!”

A chorus of “YES, CAPTAIN HALDOR!”

I veered left, toward the rocky slope behind the Meren formation. If I were a cowardly prince, I’d hide where soldiers blocked the view but offered easy escape.

A dying Meren soldier grabbed my boot as I passed, gasping, “H-He… the prince… ran… uphill—”

His words broke into coughs of blood. I jerked my leg free without hesitation. “I guess…his own soldiers wanted him dead.”

I kicked my horse forward, spurring it hard as I climbed the slope. Rocks scattered under the hooves, dust kicking into the air.

He was here somewhere. Hiding. Shaking. Pathetic.

I would drag him out.

I would—

“Haldor.”

I froze.

Her voice. Her voice cut through the battlefield like a blade dipped in blood and wildfire.

I turned.

She was riding toward me—Crimson cloak torn and soaked in blood that wasn’t just the enemy’s.Hair wild. Armor cracked. Hands dripping red down the reins. Eyes glowing with a predatory calm that chilled even the wind.

Arwin and Zerith flanked her like shadows struggling to keep up with the storm she had become.

“Did you find him?” she asked.

Not winded.Not trembling.Not even fazed by the blood still sliding down her arm in thick rivulets.

The princess of Eloria looked more like a goddess of war than anything mortal.

I straightened immediately. “He ran toward the uphill, Princess I—”

My voice cut off as my eyes locked onto her hand.

Bleeding.

Badly.

Red pouring over her fingers, slick and thick, trailing down her wrist like a ribbon. “Princess… you’re hurt—”

Her eyes snapped to me, cold and sharp as a razor. “Haldor. The prince.”

Her tone wasn’t angry.

It was much worse.

It was a warning.

I bowed on instinct, spine straightening like she commanded the air itself. “My apologies, Princess. He ran uphill.”

She nodded once.

Then her lips curled—not into a smile, but into something darker.

Something cruel.

Something tyrannical.

A smile that promised ruin.

“Good,” she whispered, voice dripping venom and certainty. “Let’s end this war now.”

Her horse leapt forward, hooves slicing the ground. Arwin and Zerith followed. I watched her ride ahead—bloody, relentless, unstoppable—

And for the first time since I met her…I felt a flicker of fear.

Not of her.Never of her.

But for what she was about to do.

For what that prince was about to face.

The battlefield braced itself.

And the hunt began.