The Devil is the Villainess

As Lycoris fluttered her eyes open, she found herself greeted by the brilliance of an unfamiliar sky stretching endlessly above her.
A wave of unfamiliar sensation washed over her, the sharp sting of pain coursing through her body like a tempest.
It was a sensation utterly foreign to her, one she had never experienced before in her timeless existence.
Confusion knitted her brow as she grappled with the jarring reality of physical discomfort. This was a realm of existence she had never traversed, a realm where mortality reigned supreme.
Amidst the disorienting haze, voices drifted to her ears like echoes from a distant realm. "Let's leave the corpse there, no one would find out after all," one voice murmured, tinged with a chilling nonchalance.
"Are you sure? But..." another voice hesitated, trailing off in uncertainty.
"Hush," came the curt response, dripping with a sinister resolve. "We just followed our lord's orders. Now, let's leave before anyone could see us."
Lycoris's gaze sharpened as she processed the conversation unfolding around her, her senses attuned to the subtle shifts in the atmosphere. With a determined effort, she pushed past the veil of pain shrouding her senses, her focus honing in on the figures lingering nearby.
With growing clarity, Lycoris observed the figures retreating, their forms fading into the embrace of shadows cast by the surrounding foliage. With a silent resolve, she turned her gaze upon them, her expression betraying a steely determination that belied her ethereal beauty.
Summoning her strength, she rose unsteadily to her feet, every movement punctuated by the searing agony that engulfed her form. Ignoring the protests of her newly awakened senses, she fixed her glowing red eyes upon the retreating figures, her voice a chilling echo in the stillness of the air.
"Taking your leave already?" she intoned, her voice carrying an otherworldly weight that sent shivers down their spines.
The two individuals froze in place, their bodies tensing instinctively at the sound of her voice.
As they turned to face her, their eyes widened in disbelief and terror. In place of familiarity, they were met with an unsettling pair of crimson eyes, glowing with an intensity that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality.
An aura of darkness radiated from the enigmatic woman before them, suffusing the air with an ominous energy that left them trembling in its wake.
"H-How... you are supposed to be dead!" the man stammered, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. In a misguided attempt to assert control, he lunged forward, his intentions clear.
But in a single, effortless motion, Lycoris met his gaze with an unwavering stare. With a mere glance, the man crumpled to the ground, his body succumbing to forces beyond comprehension.
In the wake of his collapse, an eerie silence descended upon the scene, punctuated only by the ragged breaths of those who bore witness to the unfolding spectacle. With each passing moment, the enigma of Lycoris deepened her presence a harbinger of unfathomable power and untold mysteries.
The cry of anguish pierced the stillness of the forest as the remaining individual, consumed by grief and rage, hurled accusations at Lycoris.
"Medea, you wench!" he spat, his voice tinged with venom as he lunged forward, brandishing his sword with reckless abandon.
A furrow creased Lycoris's brow at the unexpected invocation of the name 'Medea,' a name that seemed to echo with a haunting familiarity that eluded her grasp.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Lycoris raised her bloodied hands, the remnants of her recent ordeal staining her pale skin. Activating the depths of her unearthly powers, she met the assailant's gaze with an icy resolve.
"You fool, that wasn't my name," she declared, her voice carrying the weight of ancient shadows.
With a sharp click, the assailant crumpled to the forest floor, his life extinguished by forces beyond mortal comprehension.
As the echoes of the confrontation faded into the ether, Lycoris cast a cold, lingering gaze upon the lifeless forms that littered the forest floor. With measured steps, she turned away from the scene of carnage, her path shrouded in uncertainty.
Lost amidst the dense foliage of the dark forest, Lycoris wandered, her steps guided by an inscrutable force that pulled her deeper into the labyrinthine depths.
Yet, in the middle of the oppressive silence, a sudden pang seized her mind—a piercing headache that threatened to unravel the very fabric of her consciousness.
Clutching her head in agony, Lycoris closed her eyes, surrendering to the onslaught of memories that surged forth like an unrelenting tide.
A torrent of visions flooded her senses, memories not her own, but belonging to the woman whose tale she had unwittingly stumbled upon within the pages of the forbidden tome.
With a jolt of realization, Lycoris pieced together the fragments of her fractured existence. The man's invocation of the name 'Medea' ignited a spark of understanding within her, unraveling the enigma that bound her to this unfamiliar realm. "Of course," she murmured, her voice a whispered revelation amidst the shadows.
"That cursed book is the source of this madness."
Driven by an urgent need for clarity, Lycoris sought solace by the tranquil shores of a nearby lake, its reflective surface offering a glimpse into the distorted reflection that stared back at her.
With a profound sense of disquiet, she acknowledged the truth that stared back at her—this form was not her own, and the identity she once knew was shrouded in the mysteries of the unknown.
Seated amidst the tranquil embrace of nature, Lycoris grappled with the unsettling truth of her predicament.
"I am trapped within the vessel of a human named Medea Falaguerra. How utterly absurd," she muttered, her voice tinged with incredulity at the inexplicable turn of events. With a resigned sigh, she lowered herself onto the soft carpet of grass, her movements a graceful symphony of ethereal grace.
Drawing upon the wellspring of her ancient powers, she focused her will with unwavering determination.
Threads of shimmering darkness coalesced around her, weaving a web of arcane energy that enveloped her wounded form. With each whispered incantation, the wounds that marred her borrowed flesh began to mend, the tendrils of darkness knitting together the torn fabric of her being with meticulous precision.
"Fortunately, my powers remain intact," she murmured with a measure of relief, her crimson gaze scanning the serene expanse of her surroundings.
The tranquil melody of the lake's gentle ripples, the whispering of the wind through the verdant foliage, and the harmonious chorus of birdsong formed a backdrop of serenity amidst the depths of the forest.
Yet, despite the tranquil tableau before her, a gnawing sense of disquiet lingered in the recesses of her mind. With an impatient click of her tongue, she voiced her inner turmoil, the words a manifestation of her growing frustration.
"What purpose do I serve in this world? And why have I been thrust into the guise of Medea, of all people?" she pondered aloud, her voice echoing softly in the stillness of the forest.
Her thoughts drifted to the enigmatic demise of the woman whose form she now inhabited – Medea Falaguerra. The circumstances surrounding her death bore the weight of unresolved mystery, a puzzle whose pieces eluded even Lycoris's formidable intellect.
Was it at the behest of the prince, as the fleeting memories suggested?
The notion seemed preposterous, yet a faint spark of intrigue flickered within her.
Having assumed the guise of Medea, Lycoris felt a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins at the prospect of manipulating the lives that lay before her like pieces on a grand chessboard.
"This could be rather entertaining. A delightful diversion indeed," she mused with a sinister smirk, her thoughts laced with the promise of mischief.
With purposeful strides, she navigated through the dense foliage of the forest known as Gandha, her mind a labyrinth of calculated schemes and machinations.
"According to this human's memories, the tower of obsidian should lead me back," she murmured, her voice a melodic whisper carried on the wind.
As the towering structure loomed into view, its dark silhouette cutting a stark contrast against the azure sky, Lycoris's gaze swept upward, a cold grin etching itself upon her pale lips.
"Perhaps the inhabitants of this tower could provide some answers," she mused, a flicker of anticipation igniting the depths of her crimson eyes.
With a casual gesture, she wove a tapestry of shadows around her form, vanishing from the forest's embrace in a whisper of darkness. In the blink of an eye, she materialized within the confines of the tower, where darkness reigned supreme and the feeble glow of torchlight cast eerie shadows upon the stone walls.
The air was thick with a palpable sense of foreboding, every corner shrouded in an impenetrable veil of mystery. Lycoris furrowed her brows, her senses alert to the unfamiliar voice that pierced the oppressive silence like a blade.
"Who are you?" the voice echoed, its timbre laced with suspicion and curiosity, sending a shiver down her spine.
With a graceful pivot, she turned to face the source of the inquiry, her crimson gaze ablaze with an enigmatic intensity.
Within the dimly lit expanse of the tower, her eyes fell upon a man clad in a resplendent black coat adorned with an amethyst brooch, a symbol of authority that hinted at his significance within the enigmatic confines.
His striking appearance held an allure that transcended mortal beauty, making him the epitome of handsome refinement.
The man's piercing purple eyes seemed to hold the secrets of the universe, an ethereal gaze that mirrored the depths of the amethyst adorning his chest.
Long strands of silver hair cascaded in a silken waterfall, elegantly tied in a low ponytail and secured with a delicate ribbon. His aesthetic appeal was nothing short of breathtaking, a sublime fusion of strength and grace that left an indelible impression.
She arched a delicate eyebrow, her interest piqued as she sensed an absence of fear in the man's gaze upon meeting her formidable presence. It was a rarity, an intriguing anomaly that stirred the currents of her amusement.
As she took a measured step forward, the sudden manifestation of an imperceptible barrier halted her progress.
The man, exuding an air of quiet authority, questioned her presence with a stoic demeanor.
"The only people permitted within this tower are those with my consent. How did you gain entry? And who, may I ask, are you?" he inquired, his tone a blend of authority and curiosity.
She couldn't help but scoff at his audacity, a wicked glint in her eyes. "How interesting," she mused, recognizing the novelty of encountering someone who dared to challenge her.
In response to his questions, she uttered with a dangerously tantalizing tone, "Me? I am simply called Medea Falaguerra, darling." Her words hung in the air like an ominous melody, laden with the promise of chaos and mischief. 
The tension between them crackled like static, as two formidable forces stood poised on the precipice of an unfolding confrontation within the shadowed depths of the tower.
"I simply came here to ask for directions. There's nothing else," Lycoris clarified, her voice carrying a subtle edge of amusement as she observed the man's furrowed brows knit with suspicion.
The man regarded her with a measured gaze, his expression gave a hint of curiosity and caution. "And what destination do you seek?" he inquired, his tone laced with a quiet authority that bespoke his familiarity with the labyrinthine corridors of the tower.
A mischievous glint danced in Lycoris's eyes as she placed a slender finger upon her lips, her smirk a playful challenge that mirrored the enigmatic allure of her true nature.
"The dukedom of Falaguerra," she declared with an air of nonchalant confidence, her words laden with veiled intent.
A weary sigh escaped the man's lips as he lifted his hand, a shimmering cascade of silver light coalescing into existence before them. With a flicker of arcane mastery, a detailed map materialized within the ethereal glow, its intricate lines and markings a testament to the man's formidable powers.
Lycoris watched in silent disbelief as the magical display unfolded before her, a testament to the man's mastery over the arcane arts. So, this human holds power as well. A magician of this tower, it seems, she surmised, her gaze narrowing with newfound intrigue.
Before she could voice her thoughts, the man approached her with measured steps, his demeanor betraying a cautious yet unyielding resolve.
A flicker of indignation ignited within Lycoris as he dared to bridge the distance between them, his audacity a silent challenge to her dominance.
However, much to her surprise, the man extended his hand, offering her the map with a gesture of unexpected generosity.
"Here, take this," he offered, his voice a quiet assurance.
As she traced her gaze over the sprawling expanse of geographical landmarks depicted on the parchment, the man's watchful eyes followed her movements, his silent observation a testament to his quiet vigilance.
The weight of his gaze bore down upon her like an invisible force, probing the depths of her enigmatic facade in search of answers hidden beneath the surface.
"You are not from this world, are you?" The man's inquiry, delivered with a quiet certainty, pierced through the veil of her thoughts, prompting Lycoris to halt in her tracks.
A spark of intrigue flickered within her crimson eyes at the unexpected revelation, her expression a mask of calculated amusement.
Lycoris paused in her perusal of the map, the weight of his words settling upon her like a cloak of intrigue. With a subtle shift of her crimson gaze, she met his inquisitive stare with a knowing glint in her eyes.
"You're quite sharp for a human," she acknowledged, her voice a languid purr that held a hint of amusement. "But I suggest you better keep your mouth shut," she cautioned, her words carrying a veiled warning that danced upon the edge of danger.
With a casual flick of her finger, she wove a blanket of shadows around her form, disappearing from his sight in a whisper of darkness.
The air shimmered with the remnants of her presence, a tantalizing reminder of the enigmatic being that had graced the tower with her presence. As the echoes of her departure faded into the silence, the man was left to ponder the enigma of the woman who had crossed his path.
"Medea Falaguerra, huh?"