Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands
Chapter 78 --78

Chapter 78: Chapter-78

Hearing the words "Little Lord," the blue-haired mermaid’s face froze. A twitch of irritation flickered across his jawline, then spread to his eyes, turning them sharp and cold. His once regal posture stiffened, and a shadow crept into his expression.

Little Lord?

He had just been demoted.

And now this fool—this wide-eyed, panicked fishling—had the nerve to call him that?

His lips parted, ready to snap back with a biting remark, but before he could even speak, the three sharks went completely still. Their eyes widened. They weren’t looking at him anymore.

Without another word, they swam ahead, and he followed them through a narrow passageway between two high coral cliffs. The space between the cliffs was tight, but beautiful—lined with seaweed in every shape and color. Greens, deep purples, even golden strands that looked like ribbons. It was quiet here, like the sea itself knew to hush.

And then, they reached it.

A clearing opened up at the end of the path, and right in the center of it stood a massive oyster. Its shell was bright white, almost glowing, and it looked like it had grown there naturally—settled in the middle of all the colorful sea plants like a centerpiece in a living garden.

But it wasn’t the oyster that made everyone stop.

It was the figure sitting in front of it.

He was a mermaid—but unlike any they had seen before. His tail was long and golden, shining with every little movement. His golden hair floated freely around him, not tied back like the others, just loose and wild. On his head rested a thin golden chain, and right in the middle of his forehead, a ruby hung like a small glowing sun.

His skin was fair, almost pale, and his eyes—deep purple—matched the shimmer of his tail. He looked calm, focused, holding something in his hands, maybe reading. Like nothing around him could bother him.

He hadn’t even glanced up.

But the second they saw him, the water felt heavier. Still.

The blue-haired mermaid, who just seconds ago was ready to snap, lowered his eyes a little. Not in fear—but out of something close to respect. Or maybe resignation.

Because this wasn’t just anyone.

This was the Master.

And in front of him, it didn’t matter who was angry, or who had been demoted.

In front of him... they were all small.

The Master didn’t even look up from the script in his hand. His voice came out low—just a little husky, almost lazy, but sharp enough to cut.

"You went to the Uphead again."

That was all it took.

All three sharks instantly froze. A shiver ran through their fins, and none of them dared to blink. One of them—braver, or maybe just more foolish—tried to lift his eyes to meet the Master’s face.

Big mistake.

Even with just a glance, the Master looked... well, not like much. He was beautiful, sure. Striking, even. With that glowing golden tail, that soft face, those sleepy purple eyes—he looked charming, almost delicate. Small. Harmless.

But anyone who judged him by how "pretty" or "not-strong" he looked?

They didn’t live long enough to say they were wrong.

Because the truth was—this man was dangerous.

The kind of dangerous that didn’t need shouting or force. He just had to speak. Just a single tone of his voice was enough to make everything around him fall silent. Even the coral seemed to retreat, the sea stilling around him.

The first shark tried to stammer something—but the Master lifted his eyes just slightly, and that one sharp glare was all it took. The shark shut his mouth immediately, swallowing his panic.

Then the second one gave in, trembling, barely able to get the words out.

"W-We only went to the Uphead because... we felt something. Movement. Strange movement."

At that, the Master finally moved. Just a little. He looked up at them properly for the first time and slowly closed the script in his hands with a soft thunk. His voice came again, still calm, still quiet—but now colder.

"How many times have I told you not to go up there?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Once was already too much. Do you want me to break your fins right now?"

All three of them flinched and quickly shook their heads, voices tumbling over each other in panic.

"Master! Master, please listen—there’s something up there!"

The third shark—clearly the youngest—shot forward slightly, almost like he was being pulled by fear itself.

"There’s people up there," he blurted out in one rushed breath, "Beastmen! They lit fire—actual fire! They’re cooking fish, Master! We saw it! Smelled it! Everything!"

He said it all so fast he barely had time to breathe, eyes wide like he was sure one more word would earn him a beating.

And the Master?

He didn’t speak. Not yet.

He just sat there, his fingers still resting on the closed script, eyes unreadable. Silent.

Which, for those who knew him, was somehow even worse than if he had shouted.

On the other side...

Up on the shore, the mood couldn’t have been more different.

Fish bones lay scattered beside a small campfire, still crackling faintly. The scent of grilled fish hung thick in the salty air. Kaya sat cross-legged in the sand, a satisfied look on her face and her hands resting lazily over her round, full belly.

She wasn’t alone.

Cutie and Vayu lay sprawled out nearby in similar food comas, barely able to move. They looked like overfed sea creatures washed up by the tide. Even the sparrow—usually the energetic one—was curled up like a puffed-up feathery ball, his belly so round he looked like he’d swallowed a whole fruit. No, scratch that. He looked like he’d turned into a tiny football. A football with wings.

The wind blew gently across the shore, carrying bits of ash and the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks.

Kaya glanced at the football—ahem, the overfed sparrow—and a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes.

A new plan was already forming in her mind.

Maybe, just maybe, she could use this round little fluffball as a makeshift shield the next time those so-called sea creatures dared to come at her