The crowd of dwarves shuffled back and forth, exchanging anxious looks with each other. The children were likewise scared, remaining in front of Alice but throwing concerned glances over their shoulders.

Alice barely registered this. Her whole being was focused on maintaining control over the flames. Her outburst had kindled the flames past Alice’s natural immunity, and the pain was kicking in. Alice bit her lips, blinking away the tears. This wasn’t the time to be crying about a little burn; she required a plan.

Her original plan had been to let fate do what it wanted with her, but that was not an option anymore. No matter what, she could not drag the children down with her. Alice didn’t care if she died, she was going to ensure these children had a long, prosperous future.

Her glare darkened as she stared at the dwarves. And if that meant becoming the villain, then that was what she was going to do!

Alice blinked, momentarily ripped out of her enraged trance. Something in her statement caught her attention; mentally rewinding, she found herself nodding at the ‘villain part.’ Although she’d mainly said that in a fit of rage, the more she thought about it, the more seeds of a good plan she discovered scattered around. Now, to give it life.

“W-WITCH! YOU BLASPHEMOUS SCAR ON THIS LAND! MONGREL ABOMINATION!” the Chief shouted. The dwarves were regaining their courage at the words of their leaders, beginning to push forward. It was only a matter of seconds before one or more of the children got her. Alice’s anger spiked and she clenched her right hand. Anger was good, anger helped her maintain her momentum. It filled her with confidence. But she needed restraint as well, to make sure none of the children got hurt.

Alice plastered a smug grin on her face. Envisioning all of the villainesses she had read about in comics and manhwas, she channeled their personalities into her, mimicking the posture and expressions.

“Oh HO HO!” Alice said, covering her mouth with her right hand as she laughed. The sudden burst of noise made the dwarves stop in their tracks and even the children turned around to stare at her. The hundreds of eyes on her performance was almost enough for Alice to break character, but the sight of the children’s scared faces affirmed her resolve. If she was going to do this, she needed to go all in. “I didn’t think you would figure me out so soon!”

The dwarves mumbled to each other, confusion etched into their faces. Even the Chief lowered his staff slightly, staring at Alice with a bewildered look.

Of course they were confused, Alice was speaking lines from a manhwa meant for children! The over-the-top speech was enough to make anybody hesitate, especially when the person saying them sounded like they weren’t joking. Alice held her ground even as a little part of her died at her melodramatics. This was for the kids!

“So you admit to your crimes?!” the Chief asked.

Alice hid her increasing grin behind her palm; jackpot. The Chief had just opened up the stage for her play. “Oh, but you’ll have to be more specific! My list of crimes are as long as they are treacherous!”

The Chief sneered. As they stared deep into each other’s eyes, Alice studied the other dwarves on her peripheral vision. They appeared much more collected and confident, now that their Chief was engaging in actual discussion with her. Alice noticed the way they were inching forward, hands clenching and unclenching. The children saw this, little whimpers drifting through the air. She grit her teeth; she needed to drive them off before they hurt the children!

But how? Since she’d proclaimed herself as a criminal, the fear factor of her surprise appearance was wearing off quick. From what she’d gathered, Alice knew the dwarf village were filled with warriors. Bringing a criminal to justice wasn’t something new, and as such, the familiarity of that action would repel any fear Alice generated.

The Chief handed her the opportunity on a silver platter. “Then tell us of your wicked magic! That corrosive black flame which radiates death and darkness!”

Alice glanced at her left arm, and the flames that encircled it. ‘Radiating death and darkness?’ Alice could chalk it up to the dwarf overreacting, but was it possible the black fire was really giving off such an aura? In that case, it made sense the dwarves were still so uneasy around her even while they outnumbered her. Alice smirked; she could use this to benefit herself.

She lifted her left arm high in the air so everybody in the crowd could see it. She waved her arm back and forth, leaving trails of blackness in her wake, making it clear the fire wasn’t going out. “This is a dangerous power. One made for destruction, meant to raze villages to the ground and burn people until only ashes are left!” Alice scrambled for further words that would incite the proper amount of terror she wanted instilled. “They are called. . .the Abyssal Black Flames of Evil created from the bones of. . .dragons!”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

A small part of Alice hoped that was enough to scare the dwarves off but of course not. They were certainly intimidated, taking a couple of steps back, but Alice could see their eyes glazing over with determination. If anything, her proclamations had made the dwarves more eager to fight; they were simply being cautious and assembling a battle plan.

Alice’s mind raced. Her plan wasn’t working out as well as she’d hoped. Not surprising, considering her ‘plan’ was a wild dream she’d cooked up in less than a second. Alice chanced a look at the children, who all had their backs to her still. However, compared to when this started, they were noticeably a few inches further.

Alice’s heart was hit with a pang of pain. So the only people the plan kind of worked on were the children she wanted to protect. She wanted nothing more than to crouch down and tell them all it was a lie, but if she did that here, then it would mean death for all of them. The dwarves were out for them.

Wait. . .all this time, Alice had been subconsciously separating the children and the rest of the village into two categories in her mind, because of the vastly differing experiences Alice had with them. But before Alice ever came to this village, the children had been getting by in the village. There were definitely huge problems, but as far as Alice knew, the village never tried to kill the children. It was Alice, an unknown outside, a foreigner, a human coming in that turned the status quo upside down.

Sure, one could make the agreement that tensions between the children and the rest of the village was increasing and it was only going to be a matter of time before it all came to a head, but that didn’t matter here and now. The dwarves were going to be more lenient to their own kind. That was the way it was for every species.

A new plan was rapidly formulating in Alice’s mind. Instead of acting as the villain and threatening the village to take care of the children, which would have only been a short-term solution anyway, she would act as the villain and alienate herself. She would create two categories: herself, the enemy, and the dwarves, the heroes of this story.

And she’d do everything in her power to make sure the children were the heroes of this story. This was the only way Alice could think of to make sure that the children survived this ordeal, and had a much better life moving on. But if this was to work, Alice first had to turn the children against her, no matter how much that may hurt.

“Hm.” Alice scoffed. “I didn’t realize dwarves were this stupid!”

The anger crackling in the air instantly skyrocketed; the dwarves growled, fingers twitching. The Chief held up a hand, stilling the convulsing masses, but it was a close call. Some of the children turned around to look at Alice with a mix of shock and betrayal in their eyes, including Lilah. Alice fashioned her face out of stone, not willing to show any emotion.

“Explain your—“ the Chief began, his knuckles turning white from gripping his staff too hard.

“I mean,” Alice interrupted him. “I thought you would have more defenses against mind control but I guess not!”

Every single one of the dwarves stiffened, their bodies going slack. The staff nearly toppled out of the Chief’s grasp, his face whiter than paper. The children shook, and for the first time, some of them broke out of the link. It was like a bulldozer to Alice’s emotions, but she forced herself to stay calm. This was the critical moment.

“Obviously, the children, I can understand. They’re young, their minds malleable, easy to manipulate. But you guys! All matured, supposed to be wise and knowledgeable. . .yet it was child’s play to warp your minds. I was a bit worried, all things considered. When these children found out my plans, I thought it was game over. ‘Surely, I couldn’t control an entire village to hurl vitrole at a group of children. Ha! Imagine my disbelief when you did it so easily! Really, dwarves are as stupid as they say!” Alice crowed.

The dwarves immediately began yelling and slamming their feet into the ground, but Alice only had eyes for a select group in front of her, awaiting their reaction with breathlessness. All the children made a mad scamble away from Alice, breaking the line. One of them, the boy who’d been the first to reach out to Alice, stepped forward once again.

“Y-you’re lying, r-right?” The last glimmer of hope shined in his eyes.

It was like spikes, digging into her tongue. Alice forced the poison out of her mouth, each word a strike to her soul. “H-ha! You shouldn’t have figured out my plan! You were too smart for your own good, truly.”

It was soul crushing, seeing the moment the light dimmed and faded entirely. Alice was overwhelmed by a wave of guilt and torment as the children backed away slowly. She’d just admitted to being the cause of all her pain and suffering, after all.

She watched them shuffle into the crowd, and her heart stopped. To her relief, the dwarves accepted them, several wrapping their arms around the children and whisking them away, using their bodies as cover, protecting them—from her.

Instinctively, Alice growled. She alone knew the truth; these people weren’t under any influence, they were being cruel and bigoted of their own resolve. They didn’t deserve to handle the children. Her growl only served to enhance her performance, making the children recoil.

All but one.

Lilah batted away any attempts by the citizens to comfort her, instead gazing at Alice. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Alice’s mouth fell a little; did she—did she know?

“FIRE!” the Chief demanded.

Alice ripped her eyes away from Lilah to look at the Chief. He held her gaze for a split second, challenging her.

Then a ball of fire shot over his head, aimed directly for Alice.