Rotsard Vallahall.
Nothing but a third-rate villain. An annoying stepping stone that provides a handful of struggles for the great hero to overcome on his way to the greatness that began in the Royal Academy.
An unworthy, vain, and prideful trash flaunting his position as a member of the Vallhall family, which was the greatest only after the royal family itself. Pushing himself onto a duke Tristan Edemsworth's fourth daughter, Amelia Edemsworth, even when he had a faithful fiancee who cherished him deeply.
With height below the average and with bad posture, not shying from the joys of life, especially food, eventually gave him a hard time practising both magic and sword and did nothing to fix his rotten character.
Rotsard's ultimate fate would be to perish at the hand of the hero, Justin, after he sold his soul to a deofol and went on a rampage after Amelia joined Justin's harem.
Blinded by rage, jealousy, and bitterness, running into sewers with a fatal wound and then dying a dog's death in there.
His remains would stay there forever if not for his fiancee, Mira Vultress, who never gave up on him. After giving that undeserving filth a proper burial she confined herself into a monastery forever in mourning, caring for his grave.
Meanwhile, Justin would live on and save the kingdom of Nordenthele from the hands of the deofolic forces, gained the title of a savior and the surname of Nordestar, finally retiring and living his life with four wives in harmony and joy.
…you may say that it's quite an inspiring story, one that comes with a moral lesson. Clearly, someone like Rotsard, whose name most likely came from putting together words rotten and bastard, wass destined for a bad end. So remember, children, be good and kind like Justin~!
Only that, I have a problem with that story, personally.
You see…
I am Rotsard Vallhall.
The last thing I remember is challenging that peasant trash, Justin, to a duel and then…
I found myself in a room looking almost exactly the same as my late father's office.
The story I just told you was read out to me by an inexplicable being of white seated behind a desk, from a thick book called Nordensthele Kingdom Hero's Anthology.
Even though I've heard it only once, for some reason, it felt like every word was engraved into my memory.
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't move.
I could only listen and observe the being of pure white turn the pages and read out that humiliating story until the very end.
"How was it? Did you like the story of your world?"
As it closed the book and put what I assume was its hand on the back cover, the being of white asked.
But I couldn't answer even if I wanted to.
"This here is the ideal future. Things must happen as they are for your world, or rather mankind, to keep existing."
The being said in such a casual tone that it took me a while to understand it.
I was not supposed to feel anything, but the icicles of dread pierced my soul.
"Aren't you the lucky one~?"
But then the being of white laughed and moved in a way that I had to assume was tilting its head and posing with its hands close to its face and smiling.
"What needs to happen is you lose to Justin during all the important arcs of the first and second volume, and then Justin has to kill a deofolized human in the opening of the third volume. You are always going on and on and on about honor and noble duty, and now look~! You can prove your convictions by becoming the noblest of sacrifices!. Aren't you lucky? Congratulations!"
Openly mocking me, the being of white laughed jovially and started moving as if it was poking its fingers at me.
"Pffft! Alright, enough jokes. I know you are already thinking about how to flip the scales and change your citation, you rotten bastard~!"
Suddenly, the jovial laugh turned into a creepy chuckle, and the being of white turned dim… and then ended up murky black…!
"Maybe thinking that you will try to make another deal with the deofol? Bu-buuuuu~! You can't! Because that deofol is me~! You will offer me your soul in volume two~! Ahaha~! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH~!"
The being of murky black revealed, bursting into a peal of maniacal laughter.
"Mhmm~ Mhmhmhmhm~! I can see the gears turning in that rotten, bleached head of yours! Go on! Do it! Change your life only to bring destruction to your world! Hmm? You don't want that? Then become the ultimate loser, you rotten bastard~! AHHH~! That's right! This is it~! The souls torn apart by despair taste the best~! So squirm! Suffer! FAIL! AND I WILL DEVOUR YOUR PUNY SOUL AS YOU DIE A FUTILE MISERABLE DEATH EITHER WAY!"
It howled while laughing so hard it almost fell off the chair!
That…! It…!
…you… You…!
—----
"YOU FILTHY BASTARD!"
"KYAAAAAAAGH!?"
A seventeen-year-old boy with bleached blond hair with a bump on his forehead, sat upright with a jump start and scared a nurse so much she screamed and dropped the first aid kit.
"...s-student Vallhall! Th-this is a hospital wing! Please keep your voice down!"
"...huh…?"
The startled nurse sniffled a little before clearing her throat and scolding the boy, who blinked a few times, clearly confused about his surroundings.
Despite the rumors, or rather the widespread truth about Rotsard Vallhall's behavior the past month, the nurse breathed out and approached him to check his condition, although reluctantly and with caution.
"Do you know where you are? And why are you here? What's the last thing you remember? Tell me if it hurts."
She asked while examining his body.
"This is the hospital wing of the Royal Academy. You said it yourself. And I'm here beca-OUFGHGH…!"
Rotsard scoffed and pointed out, while the nurse was pressing his flabby stomach, which wasn't painful at all, but then she stuck her fingers into his side, making him writhe in pain and whine.
"Without trying to act smart with me, please."
"...!"
The nurse scoffed, not even trying to hide that she poked him where she knew would hurt on purpose, making the boy grit his teeth but eventually let go of the anger…
"...?"
Which honestly caused the nurse to raise her brow in surprise.
"I ended up here because I lost the duel with that filthy peasant, didn't I?"
"Student Vallhall! While attending the Royal Academy every student is equal, so mind your tone!"
Rotsard answered the second question but was reprimanded in a harsh voice for his choice of words.
"Oh, really? Then how come you, a member of Academy's staff, are referring to me by my family name? You can't do that to a filthy peasant without a surname! Where's that equality you're talking about?"
"...!"
The boy snorted and leaned in towards the nurse, who took a step back, unable to find the right words.
"On that note, what is YOUR surname?"
"Th-that is beside the point! I earned my position through hard work and dedication alone and…!"
Rotsard squinted his yellow eyes, a trait that his family prided themselves on as the eyes of the wolf, and asked, causing the nurse to lose her composure and call out with a red face.
"A peasant then. In that case…"
"...!"
Receiving his answer, Rotsard snickered and glanced at the woman's hands, making her hurriedly hide them behind her back, but not fast enough.