I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 158: The Trial (17)

Chapter 158: The Trial (17)

Of course! Here’s the 700-word continuation:

As they reached the top of the staircase, the floor unfurled like a woven tapestry—soft beneath their feet but shimmering with constellations. The moment Verena stepped forward, the stars shifted. They spiraled, arranging themselves into symbols above a massive archway. Each glyph glowed with a different hue, dancing with faint pulses like breathing light.

"Welcome to the Hall of Reflections," a voice echoed. Not from above, but from everywhere.

A gust of wind parted the fog, revealing a grand chamber ahead—its walls made entirely of mirrors. No two reflected the same thing. One showed Verena standing alone in a bloodied battlefield. Another displayed her smiling beneath a cherry tree, surrounded by faceless companions. One even showed her asleep, curled beside... was that Sera?

"Oh gods," she muttered, stepping back instinctively.

"I don’t like this place," Vivienne said, voice soft as she clutched her arm. "It feels like we’re being... watched."

"Not watched," Isolde muttered, glaring into a mirror. "Judged."

As they walked deeper, the chamber seemed to respond. The path behind them vanished with every step forward. Illusions flickered across the mirrors—glimpses of failure, of past mistakes, of memories both real and fabricated. Verena paused at one that showed her breaking down alone, crying in a rain-soaked alley.

"That never happened," she muttered.

"Are you sure?" the mirror replied.

Her heart stopped. The mirror had spoken with her voice.

Isolde raised her blade. "These mirrors mock us. Let me smash one and—"

The moment her sword neared the surface, the entire room rippled. The floor dropped beneath them just slightly—barely a tremor, but enough to remind them this realm had rules.

"Don’t," Verena warned. "This trial isn’t about fighting."

"Then what?" Isolde growled. "Letting our worst selves point and laugh at us?"

"No," Vivienne whispered. "Accepting them."

They all turned. Her Dreamtide magic had subtly activated—just a soft breeze of calm rippling around them. Her reflection across the mirrors had changed. Instead of tears and fear, she stood confidently in one, facing a monstrous version of herself—and smiling.

Vivienne stepped forward, placing her hand on the glass.

"I always thought I was weak because people told me I was," she said softly. "But what if... that wasn’t mine to carry?"

Light burst from the mirror she touched. The illusion inside shattered—not from force, but from acknowledgment. It faded into a glow that drifted into the air and disappeared.

A second symbol lit up above the archway.

Verena blinked. "Of course," she murmured. "It’s not just showing us reflections—it’s asking us to reconcile them."

She turned to her own mirror, the one of her screaming in silence while everyone praised her strength. She reached forward, fingers trembling. "I’m not always strong," she whispered. "And that’s not shameful."

The mirror warmed under her touch. Another symbol lit up.

Isolde snorted. "Ugh, fine. But if one of these things shows me crying over a flower or something—"

A nearby mirror flickered, revealing her doing exactly that. "Oh for fuck’s sake."

Despite herself, she placed her palm on it with a smirk. "Fine. I like roses. Big deal."

The third glyph above the archway illuminated.

The room trembled—this time not as a threat, but as a welcome. The path ahead shimmered open, and the mirrored walls slowly dimmed. The reflections calmed, no longer chaotic fragments, but clearer, more whole.

Verena exhaled. "That was... surprisingly therapeutic."

"Therapy but with glitter and trauma," Vivienne mumbled, eyes still misty but smiling.

They stepped through the archway, finding themselves in a celestial garden. Strange flowers bloomed from stardust, and silver butterflies flitted past lazily. A tranquil pond mirrored the night sky above, and a stone platform stood in the center.

"We’re near the trial’s end," Verena said.

But even as she said it, a cold chill ran down her spine.

Something else was waiting—something that had yet to reveal itself.

Because after reflection came judgment.

And not all truths were easy to bear.

Certainly! Here’s the 700-word continuation:

---

The tranquility of the celestial garden was deceiving.

For a moment, everything was still—too still. No breeze stirred the star-petals. The sky mirrored in the pond remained unmoving. Even the butterflies had vanished, leaving nothing but an unsettling silence.

Verena felt it in her chest first. A tightness. Not fear—something older. Heavier. Like dread that had fermented for too long.

Then the ground pulsed.

A single ripple ran across the pond. The water darkened. The stars above flickered—and something ancient stirred beneath the surface.

"Oh no," Verena murmured.

From the depths of the pond rose an immense, serpentine form cloaked in shadow and moonlight. Its body coiled with elegant lethargy, too large to be real, yet too fluid to be illusion. Its eyes, twin pools of reflective silver, fixated on her. Not Vivienne. Not Isolde. Her.

"Verena Aurelian," it said. Its voice echoed like a thousand memories speaking at once. "Bearer of false calm. Chaser of stillness while drowning in storms."

Vivienne shrank behind Verena, trembling. "W-What is that?"

"A Zodiac Beast," Verena whispered. Her throat went dry. "It’s Pisces’ trial guardian."

The beast uncoiled, revealing more of its sinuous form, scales glinting like constellations. But there was no malice in its presence. Only... knowing.

"You desire peace," it continued. "And yet run from surrender. You reject chaos—but do not release control. You stagnate."

Its words hit deeper than they should have.

Verena clenched her fists. "I’m not stagnating. I’m surviving."

"Survival without motion is but waiting to drown."

The garden dimmed. The platform beneath her feet began to vanish in fractals of light until she was standing on a narrow column of stardust, surrounded by still water and sky that went on forever.

Isolde shouted something, but her voice grew distant, like it was coming from behind a wall of glass. Vivienne reached out, her fingers passing through an invisible barrier.

The beast coiled around Verena’s tiny platform. Not threateningly. Like a ring. A test.

"Prove your motion. Show that you have not surrendered to stillness."

"I’m not—!" Verena started to shout, but faltered. Her voice echoed. Came back to her sounding small.

Because the truth was, lately she had been stuck.

She’d pretended to be okay.

She’d moved through the trials, acted like she had all the answers. But inside, her heart had been suspended—floating in something still and cold, afraid to act, afraid to lose more. What if one wrong step meant losing all her progress? What if motion invited ruin?

She was tired of playing the part.

So she stopped pretending.

"I am stuck," she admitted aloud. "I’ve been stuck for a long time. Afraid to move. Afraid if I do, I’ll break everything I’ve worked for."

The beast watched.

"I keep telling myself, just finish this one thing. Just hold on a little longer. And then I’ll rest. Then I’ll breathe. But I never do."

Her hands trembled. "Because resting feels like failing. Like slipping backward. Like I’ll lose all my progress if I stop now."

She took a shaky breath.

"But maybe I don’t need to finish everything. Maybe I just need to stop... measuring everything by how productive I am. Or how in control I seem. Maybe I just need to be."

The silence that followed was thick. Not oppressive—contemplative.

The beast blinked slowly. Then, for the first time, it smiled.

"Then move."

A pulse of silver light surged through Verena’s chest. Her feet no longer trembled on the narrow platform. She stepped forward—onto nothing—and found something solid waiting beneath.

With each step, stars formed beneath her, supporting her weight.

Behind the glass wall, Vivienne gasped, hands pressed to the invisible surface. "She’s doing it!"

Isolde watched in silence, arms crossed, but her smirk betrayed a flicker of pride.

The beast reared its head back and sang—not with sound, but with light. Glyphs filled the air, glowing with approval.

"Your truth has reached motion," the beast said. "The trial is passed."

In a blink, the stillness shattered.

Verena found herself back in the garden. The pond sparkled again. The platform returned. The butterflies danced as if nothing had happened.

The others rushed to her.

Vivienne tackled her with a hug. "Don’t ever do that again!"

"Agreed," Isolde grumbled, adjusting her sword.

Verena just smiled, chest rising and falling like she could finally breathe again.

Motion didn’t mean chaos.

It meant living.

Vivienne clung to her like a koala, mumbling, "I thought you got absorbed into space-time trauma therapy or something!"

Verena gave a breathy laugh, too lightheaded to push her off. "I think I did, actually."

"Was that the Zodiac Beast?" Isolde asked, eyeing the now-tranquil pond suspiciously. "It didn’t even try to attack you."

"It didn’t need to," Verena murmured. "It just... knew."

Knew how stuck she’d been. How afraid she was to lose what she’d built by simply resting. But maybe pausing wasn’t regression. Maybe it was what kept her from breaking entirely.

"I feel... weirdly lighter," she said, flexing her fingers. The heaviness in her chest was gone, replaced with something softer—like possibility.

"Good," Isolde replied. "Because if the next trial eats you, I am not rescuing you."

"You totally would," Verena smirked.

"Tch."

Vivienne finally let go, beaming. "We’re making progress! You passed Pisces’ trial, right?"

Verena nodded. "That was the second. Which means..."

They turned together, eyes locking on the glowing archway ahead—etched with the symbol of Aries, a trial of war and willpower.

"Trial Three," Isolde declared, cracking her knuckles. "Let’s go break something."

Verena took a step forward—this time without fear.

She was finally moving.