I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 99: Dying Before Desiring Love (Part 1: Sera’s POV)

Chapter 99: Dying Before Desiring Love (Part 1: Sera’s POV)

"UGH, WHATEVER! JUST GET OFF ME, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Sera yelled, tugging and pushing at Verena’s hair like a feral cat. She’d rather die than admit this woman struck a nerve. Anyone but her!

"ARGH! STOP IT! YOU HAIR-PULLING GREMLIN!" Verena shouted back, swatting wildly.

She’d heard it countless times.

If you want to be loved, you have to act a certain way.

But why was it that the ones who followed that advice always turned out to be the fakest people alive?

She’d rather die than serve someone. She’d rather die than beg for their love.

...

...

***

The village square had once been their playground. Sunlight, laughter, and games. But that day, it turned sour.

Sera and her friends huddled near the well, trying to enjoy a bit of stolen peace. Then they came, rich silk, polished boots, smug grins. The lord’s children.

"Out of the way, rats," one sneered, knocking over their bucket of water.

Another snatched Sera’s ribbon and dangled it high, laughing as she jumped for it. "You beg like a dog. Want a treat too?"

Her friend tried to speak up, only to get shoved into the mud.

Sera clenched her fists. Her cheeks burned, not from shame, but fury. Not from weakness, but the knowing. The knowing that no matter how loud they cried, no one would help them.

"Your mother’s a harlot!"

"Look at her! She takes after her and probably end up spreading her legs just the same!"

Something snapped.

Sera didn’t scream. She didn’t warn them. She moved.

Her fist cracked against the first boy’s nose, blood spurting as he fell back with a shriek. Another tried to grab her, but she slammed her knee into his stomach, then punched him hard enough to loosen a tooth.

"You want to talk about my mother?" she growled, eyes wild. "Say it again."

They didn’t. They ran, crying for their guards.

That night, the village elder came with tight lips and pity in his eyes. Her mother packed quickly, silently. Sera helped, trembling with leftover rage.

Before they left, her mother apologized, again and again.

Despite her work as a prostitute, she had always been kind, always giving... at least in front of others.

But behind closed doors, her moods swung like a pendulum.

Sera never understood why her mother gave so much to strangers when they barely had enough for themselves.

Watching that, she learned to hate the idea of serving others. So even if people misunderstood her, even if they called her a brat or worse, she would never beg for love nor attention.

Not from those who didn’t deserve her. She didn’t care about achievements. She didn’t want their love, nor their praise. The very thought of it disgusted her.

"I would rather die than lose myself...."

By sunrise, they were gone, searching for a new village where names didn’t carry so much hate.

However, not much ever changed.

Yes, there were insults about her mother, but there were also those who adored her.

"Be kind to your mother! You should be thankful to have her!"

But of course they’d say that. They weren’t the ones in her shoes, facing the woman’s rage that would melt into love, only to snap back into fury.

"I love you, Sera..."

"I WISH YOU HAD DIED! I REGRET HAVING YOU!"

"What are you talking about, Sera? I don’t remember saying that..."

It wasn’t just love she lost. It was her faith in the world itself.

People were unpredictable, fake, obsessed with pleasing others. And when faced with power, they always bent the knee.

She never understood why people loved others before themselves.

Why was self-sacrifice so glorified?

Why was it seen as noble to serve, when it was exhausting to pour empathy into those who didn’t deserve a single drop?

Why give so much when you couldn’t even spare anything for yourself?

"I’m starving... I’m starving..."

Hunger gnawed at her stomach like a beast. She curled up at the edge of the creaky bed in a cramped room, just one of many borrowed spaces in a man’s house obsessed with her mother.

"Mother, I’m sick..."

"You can’t get sick, Sera! We don’t have the money for that!"

But whenever she asked for what she needed, somehow, it couldn’t be provided.

Thus, as someone dirt poor, she never shared her food."Scram!"

Not her coins."Go steal from a noble yourself! I’m not sharing this!"

Not her praise."That’s not even impressive."

And definitely not her love."Do you love me, Sera?" Her mother asked.

"..."

Love couldn’t be trusted.

No one could, not when her father was probably just another man who couldn’t keep it in his pants and got her mother pregnant while married to someone else. It was typical of rich men to do so in her area.

"Sera, I’m your father."

"...What?"

She was twelve when he showed up, a viscount, of all things, claiming he’d been in love with her mother all along, that he’d searched for them for years.

For a moment, she thought the pain would stop. That maybe, just maybe, she could finally share a piece of herself now that wealth and status were within reach.

She was wrong.

Rich or poor, people were all the same.

They bowed to gold, to obsession, to twisted versions of love.

"You’re not our sister..."

"She has the blood of a whore."

Of course her half-siblings would never accept her. No one ever did. It hurt, badly, but she didn’t have space left to admit it.

Her mother was manipulative and desperate to be liked. Her father, a hopeless romantic and useless in noble society besides his prowess in the military.

"I’m so hungry..."

"I’m starving..."

"I feel so weak..."

Once again, she lay alone in her room.

Everyone in this world was starving for love, for safety, for meaning. And somehow, that made her feel it even more.

But when a person goes long enough without water, they start to believe they never needed it at all.

Especially when it came from a world that had always turned its back on them.

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