A Regressed Villain: Heroines, Villainesses and Me?
Chapter 120: Chapter 122 - Aecilia's Small World

"This way, my Lord."

The woman in the cloak glanced back at Avendial as they reached the end of the corridor, halting to gesture for him to enter the door ahead.

The door opened on its own, revealing an elevator or lift.

Aecilia stepped inside, and Avendial followed closely, positioning himself beside her before looking back towards the cloaked woman, who bowed as the door slid shut before them and the lift began its descent.

"How on earth did you manage to dig this deep?"

Avendial asked, the reality of being now two hundred meters underground settling in.

The thought that such a feat could be accomplished without the government taking notice seemed almost unfathomable.

As they continued deeper, the lift's movement indicated they were descending much further than he had first anticipated.

It was clear this hidden enclave of the Sertsul family, nestled far beneath the Free Cities, was one of the most secure hideouts one could imagine.

Such secrecy raised uneasy questions in Avendial's mind regarding how they could maintain this level of concealment from the Royal Family, let alone the government itself.

"It began construction in 1810; we relocated here just a decade ago," Aecilia replied, her words outlining the timeline of this vast underground complex, which had been under preparation since the 1810.

This certainly demonstrated the effort and time they had invested in crafting this place while attempting to shield their operations from governmental scrutiny.

"....What about those who attempted to leak information?" Avendial inquired, a pressing concern surfacing in his thoughts.

Given the depth of this sanctuary, it was evident that hiding its existence for this length of time was a daunting task; at least a handful of people would have surely leaked information about it.

"We killed everyone," Aecilia stated matter-of-factly as the lift's door opened, unveiling yet another narrow passage.

As he stood there, Avendial continued to study her back, realizing that he perhaps had underestimated the resolve of Sertsul family in his past times.

It dawned on him why the Emperor had prioritized launching his assault against the Sertsuls following the arrival of the Tower, promptly eliminating one of his strongest rivals without facing any retaliation.

Clearly, they had been obliterated, suggesting that the Sertsul family was not as robust or did not boast a considerable number of awakened individuals compared to the Royal Family—But targeting them first definitely put them in the limelight.

Setting aside his thoughts, he moved forward, following her as the path ahead was considerably shorter.

They soon approached a gate that creaked open slowly.

Upon entering, Avendial found themselves in an expansive area that felt as large as twice the grounds of the Elite Academy.

He, stepping out of the lift, lifted his gaze to where a sky once existed but now was replaced by an enormous concrete ceiling, stretching out so far that it evoked a sense of dread, as if it could collapse at any moment.

Dismissing this unsettling sight, he gradually shifted his focus downwards, and as his eyes adjusted, he was taken aback by the bustling city that sprawled before him.

This was no mere collection of small structures—this was a full-fledged city, teeming with life.

A crowd of individuals gathered at the front, clearly observing their arrival.

Among them, Avendial recognized a few familiar faces.

However, he found his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his past life, where it was evident that once individuals were thrown into the tower, they could not carry anything with them.

This whole shelter appeared to offer an advantage to anyone at the initial levels.

The existence of such a place, with a city at its heart providing a complete small world, contrasts with his past life where newly inducted individuals entered the first phase of the tutorial inside the tower, residing in a new world that offered no shelter. This sparked an intriguing thought in his mind.

What if this entire space, this entire city had been brought along into the Tower with him?

To be precise, when the Tower arrived and people were cast into the tutorial grounds, it didn't unfold like the cliché mechanisms often depicted in fantasy novels.

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There were no guides to explain the scenario or quests to hunt monsters.

Instead, they had encountered a desolate expanse—nothing but barren land, stripped of all familiar signs of life.

Before the arrival of the Tower, humanity experienced betrayal from a race that emerged from it—a race that arrived a week before the Tower's emergence, leaving them distrustful and wary.

In response, the scattered remnants of humanity began to unite, forming alliances and gathering in makeshift clans on the stark landscape.

The strongest among them emerged as protectors, while fierce battles erupted over resources, survival becoming the foremost instinct in that harsh environment.

As Avendial surveyed the entire area, a sense of assurance washed over him—he was certain that this place harbored significant resources.

It felt akin to being presented with a lavish feast served on a single plate, fulfilling all his desires.

This prompted him to cast his gaze toward the figure moving twenty steps ahead—one who seemed to be much more than he ever thought of her.

He watched her back, her black cascading hair draped over her shoulder, and momentarily remained stoic, his mind drifting into contemplation.

'What had happened to her at that time?'

It wasn't as though he had never encountered someone as capable as her before.

In fact, he already had several individuals within the Tower who surpassed her in skill.

Yet, despite all this, only one question lingered in his mind: what had transpired during her sudden disappearance on the ninth floor?

With a deep breath, he chose to set these thoughts aside, focusing instead on calming himself as he moved forward, his eyes diligently scanning the surroundings to assess the extent of investment he would need to make in this place.

Ah, yes, he certainly had a plan to bring this entire location into the Tower with them.

"Greetings, My Lady."

The harmonious chorus of voices from a group of two or three dozen individuals filled the space, jolting Avendial out of his thoughts and prompting him to halt beside Aecilia.

"Why are all of you here?"

Aecilia's narrowed gaze exuded authority, scrutinizing the assembled crowd.

Among them were small children, a handful of men, and women who appeared to be ordinary citizens.

They were all noticeably marked by grease and dirt, as if they'd been hard at work before arriving to see her.

"Um, this is for you," came the timid voice of a little boy stepping forward.

He looked about three or four years old and, with a determined effort, presented Aecilia with a tiny, hand-crafted flower made of paper, his eyes squeezed shut as he exclaimed, "Please marry me, Noona!"

"....."

A moment of stunned silence filled the air, and Aecilia's mouth twitched at the unexpected proposal from the child.

Her fist clenched reflexively as she instinctively raised it, clearly preparing to deliver a punch.

Thud

And deliver she did.

The impact was a light punch to the child's head, eliciting a wince of pain as he instinctively covered his face, while the people gathered behind him erupted in hearty laughter.

'....'

Avendial stood observing, intrigued by the comfortable familiarity these people shared with Aecilia.

She was undeniably a noblewoman, yet they interacted with her as if she were a close friend.

Having witnessed her personality, he began to see a different side of her—a warmth and approachability that contrasted with his earlier perceptions.

He glanced at her, noting her expression, which remained unchanged, maintaining the familiar façade she always wore.

"Here," Aecilia said decisively, snatching the paper flower from the boy and handing it to Avendial.

He held it for a moment, studying its simplicity, before shifting his gaze back to the child.

The little one was still rubbing his head while sending Avendial a glare filled with indignation.

'Isn't he...'

Avendial thought, his attention drawn to a distinctive mark on the child's forehead resembling a feather tattoo.

The resemblance to someone from his past emerged clearly in his mind, igniting a smirk on his face.

He leaned down slightly and asked, "Hey, kiddo, wasn't your blood group AB+?"

"...."