The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 279: Won The Battle

Chapter 279: Won The Battle

As Adeline stepped through the grand doors of the Marquess’ estate, the weight of exhaustion pressed against her shoulders.

The encounter with Benedict had drained her emotionally, and the new revelation about her holy power left her mind reeling. There was too much at stake, and her window of opportunity was rapidly shrinking.

Before she could take another step, a familiar voice rang from the staircase.

"Well, that was a short outing," Alaric mused, standing at the top of the stairs, his arms lazily crossed. His blue eyes gleamed with quiet amusement, but there was something sharp beneath the surface, an ever-present watchfulness.

When Aaron left, he didn’t come back, even when they wrote to him asking him to come back. He missed Adeline’s birthdays a few times but he would always send her a gift. They were mostly exploits from his battle on the borders.

Beautiful monster-animal skins made in garments, they were more durable than the regular ones... He could not buy something from her, he was so far away from civilisation, and she cherished the gifts he did give her.

Adeline forced a small smile, not in the mood for his teasing.

"Guess I did not last as long as I thought in the outside world," she replied simply.

Alaric tilted his head, studying her. He must have noticed the tension in her posture, the way her fingers twitched at her sides. But, to her relief, he didn’t pry. Isabelle told him clearly that girls need their space, she wasn’t a child anymore, he needed to let her come to him.

If she needed advice or help, she would ask, he should not interfere. And it was hard, how could he not? She was his baby sister, but he trusted his wife’s advice and simply assured her that she could always turn to him.

He smirked and stepped aside, allowing her to pass.

"Try not to get into too much trouble, Lady Adeline," he said, voice light, but there was a bit of love and teasing to it.

Adeline didn’t answer. She was too tired. She simply gave him a smile. That was all she could muster up at the moment.

She made it to her room and collapsed onto her bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, a deep weariness settled into her bones. But despite her exhaustion, her mind refused to quiet.

Benedict’s words echoed in her ears.

"You’re nothing."

Her fingers curled into the sheets.

Mocking her. Underestimating her. Call her a foolish, spoiled noblewoman.

But she knew all of that was wrong. Still, it hurt when the person you love and trusted... Your dear friend spews insults like that. She kept telling herself that this was not the real them but the pain she was going through was real, was it not?

---

The shadows of the Holy Temple flickered from the candlelight as Annora clenched her fists. She had spent the last few hours unraveling the horrifying truth about her existence, but she hadn’t had time to process it fully. Not yet.

Because now, she had to deal with him.

The hooded man. The one who made everything possible.

He had snuck into the Holy Temple undetected—an impressive feat, but not unexpected for someone like him. Annora was confident... She was confident that Edward knew about this man’s presence, it had to be a matter of time before he showed up and attacked him, right?

He stood in the corner of her private chambers, watching her with something akin to disappointment.

"You overstepped," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Dimitri was meant to act in alignment with the story. Not you."

Annora narrowed her eyes.

"He’s acting the way I want him to," she shot back, refusing to back down. "That’s the only thing that matters."

The hooded man exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "No. He was supposed to love you because the story dictated it. You were not supposed to assert control over him, now you are straying from the story. Annora, this was not part of the plan, do not force my hand." He threatened.

Annora’s jaw tightened.

She knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to make her feel like she had gone too far, as if she had ruined something fragile and irreplaceable. But she didn’t regret her actions.

Because she knew the truth now.

This was all a fabricated story. And in this world the only thing that felt real to her was this man. She needed him.

If she let them control everything, she would meet the same miserable end as before.

They would strip away their influence once the story ended, and the men they forced to love her would turn against her.

Dimitri. Cassian. Benedict. Edward.

She had suffered at their hands before. She would not do so again.

Annora’s lips curled into a humorless smile.

"I don’t care," she said simply.

The hooded man’s fingers twitched. "You should."

"Why? Because I’m not playing my role the way you want?" she taunted. "You think I don’t see it? Once I reach my so-called ’happy ending,’ you’ll all strip away the illusion, and they’ll hate me again."

The hooded man’s silence confirmed it.

Annora’s heart pounded, but she didn’t let her fear show.

Instead, she lifted her chin, forcing confidence into her voice.

"That’s why I took control," she said. "That’s why I made Dimitri mine."

A flicker of unease crossed the hooded man’s face.

"You’re making a mistake," he warned.

Annora scoffed. "Am I? Or are you just angry that you can’t control him anymore?"

The hooded man’s patience finally snapped.

His presence became suffocating, the very air in the room shifting. A dark energy curled around his form, flickering like the remnants of forbidden magic.

"I can take everything away from you, Annora," he whispered, his voice deadly.

Annora froze.

He wasn’t bluffing. She knew that much.

But instead of backing down, she smiled—a real, genuine smile.

Because she wasn’t afraid anymore.

She had power now.

And she was going to prove it.

Slowly, she turned her head, looking toward the corner of the room. Her heart pounded, but she masked her fear with ease.

"Dimitri," she called softly.

The response was immediate.

From the shadows, a figure emerged.

Tall. Silent. Lethal.

Dimitri, the Master of the Mage Tower.

His usually gentle brown eyes were dull now, void of his old warmth.

Annora knew she had taken too much from him, had forced his mind into a submission that wasn’t natural.

But it didn’t matter.

She had him.

And that was all she needed.

The hooded man stiffened, realising the danger, realising what Annora wanted to do. The longer she had control over him, the faster her body would become unstable. Holy Powers and forbidden magic don’t mix.

There was a delicate balance created when they forged her current body, she was destabilising it and trying to endanger everyone.

Annora turned back to him, her confidence unwavering.

"You seem so sure of yourself," she mused. "So sure that you can take everything from me."

The hooded man didn’t respond.

Annora smiled.

"Let’s see about that."

Then, she gave the order.

"Dimitri," she said, her voice like silk.

"Attack him."

Dimitri didn’t hesitate.

The hooded man barely had time to react before an explosion of mana filled the room.

Dimitri wasn’t just any mage.

He was the Archmage. The Master of the Mage Tower.

And when he attacked, the air itself seemed to shatter.

A burst of raw magical energy flooded the temple, rattling the very foundations of the sacred halls.

The hooded man moved fast. But not fast enough.

Dimitri raised his hand, and in an instant, the air around them became deadly. The flicker of his magic warped the space itself, a violent storm of power bending to his will.

A sharp, ear-piercing crack split through the temple as a spell shot toward the hooded man.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

He knew he couldn’t win.

Not against Dimitri.

Not against a male lead.

A curse left his lips, and before the full force of the spell could reach him, he vanished.

Annora exhaled sharply, watching the space where he had stood moments before.

A shaky laugh escaped her lips.

She had done it.

For the first time, she had won. But she had only won the battle, not the war.

Slowly, she turned toward Dimitri.

He was standing still, waiting. No thoughts of his own, no emotions behind those dull brown eyes.

A twinge of something bitter settled in her stomach.

But she pushed it away.

She reached out, brushing her fingers against his wrist. "You did well, Dimitri," she murmured.

He didn’t respond.

She swallowed hard.

She could feel the story shifting, the foundations of fate cracking beneath her will.

She still hated everything, including herself. This man was with her because of the power she asserted over him... But once it was gone. He would hate her... He already hated her. She felt like she would die if she had to see hatred in those eyes one day. She would rather they remain dull and lifeless.