The carriage rattled to a stop.
Lucian stepped out onto the cobblestone path, and Astraviel Academy rose before him like something out of a painting.
Massive ivory towers pierced the clouds. Floating crystalline platforms drifted between buildings, carrying students in elegant robes. Gardens bloomed with magical flowers that shifted colors with each breeze. The air itself hummed with concentrated mana.
It was beautiful.
It was also a battlefield.
In the original story, the bastard Lucian had arrived here with a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain.
Desperate to prove he wasn't trash. To show everyone the Valemont name meant something.
So he'd challenged every talented first-year he could find to duels.
And lost. Every. Single. One.
By the end of his first week, he was the academy's laughingstock. The arrogant bastard who talked big and got crushed.
[REMINDER: MISSION IN PROGRESS]
Mission: "The Villain's First Step"
Do NOT challenge anyone to a duel for the first week.
Time Remaining: 7 days.
Lucian smiled slightly.
"Not this time."
He grabbed his single travel bag—light, practical, nothing like the mountains of luggage the noble-born students were hauling—and headed toward the gates.
The entrance hall was chaos.
Hundreds of first-year students crowded the marble floors, voices echoing off vaulted ceilings. Upperclassmen in color-coded robes directed traffic. Administrative mages verified documentation with glowing enchantments.
Lucian kept his head down and moved through the crowd efficiently.
No grand entrance. No announcing himself. Just another face in the sea of new students.
"Names! Form a line!" A stern woman with blonde hair and professor's robes stood at a massive desk covered in scrolls. "Have your enrollment letters ready!"
The line moved slowly.
Lucian waited his turn, observing.
Most students traveled in groups—friends from noble houses, siblings, childhood companions. They laughed and chatted, excitement buzzing around them.
He stood alone.
Fine by me, he thought. Less attention means less trouble.
"Next!"
Lucian stepped forward and handed over his letter.
The professor glanced at it, then at him. Her expression shifted slightly—recognition, then... pity?
"Lucian Valemont," she read aloud. Her tone was carefully neutral. "House Valemont. Welcome to Astraviel Academy."
She processed his paperwork with professional efficiency, not quite meeting his eyes.
Yeah. Even the staff knew about the "fallen prodigy."
"Your dormitory assignment is East Wing, Room 237. Classes begin tomorrow. Orientation is in the Grand Hall at sunset." She handed him a bronze key and a small orientation packet. "Try to stay out of trouble."
That last part was definitely pointed.
"Thank you, Professor." Lucian took the materials and left before she could say anything else.
East Wing dormitories were... fine.
Not the luxurious quarters the high-nobles got in the Central Tower. Not the sponsored suites reserved for sponsored prodigies.
Just functional. Clean. Adequate.
Room 237 was small—a bed, desk, wardrobe, and window overlooking the training grounds.
Lucian set his bag down and sat on the bed.
For a moment, he just breathed.
I'm here. I'm actually at the academy.
Where the story really begins.
Where three heroines, one protagonist, and a dozen dangerous story arcs were waiting to unfold.
He opened the system window.
[STATUS UPDATE]
Days until first mission completion: 7
Fate Points earned: 0
Story deviations: Minor (arrival behavior different from original)
Fate Correction risk: Low
[NEW FEATURE UNLOCKED: CHARACTER PROFILES]
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "Character profiles?"
He focused on the new option, and a list appeared:
[KEY CHARACTERS - ASTRAVIEL ACADEMY]
Seraphina Ashenblade - Location: Training Grounds (Active)
Elira Frostveil - Location: Library (Studying)
Aria Lighthollow - Location: Chapel (Prayer)
Cassian Brightmore (Protagonist) - Location: Central Tower (Socializing)
[Unlock detailed profiles by interacting with characters]
Lucian leaned back.
The system could track their locations? That was... incredibly useful.
And slightly terrifying.
Seraphina's at the training grounds, he noted. Of course she is.
In the original story, Lucian had marched straight there on his first day, called her out, and challenged her to a duel.
She'd humiliated him in under thirty seconds.
Not this time.
Lucian stood, stretched, and looked out the window.
The training grounds sprawled below—combat rings, practice dummies, weapon racks. Students were already sparring, showing off their skills.
And there, in the largest ring, a crowd had gathered.
At the center stood a girl with crimson hair tied in a high ponytail, wielding a blazing longsword.
Seraphina Ashenblade.
Even from here, Lucian could see the confidence in her stance. The way she moved—fluid, precise, deadly.
She disarmed her opponent with a casual flick of her blade, and the crowd cheered.
"Again!" she called out, eyes scanning the onlookers. "Anyone else?"
No one stepped forward.
She sighed, looking almost... bored.
[VILLAIN'S INSIGHT ACTIVATED]
A translucent screen appeared above her:
Name: Seraphina Ashenblade
Age: 16
Affection Level: -10 (Unaware of your existence)
Combat Rank: A
Hidden Trait: "Craves Defeat" - Despite her dominant personality, she desires someone strong enough to truly challenge and overpower her.
Story Role: Third Female Lead (Currently unattached)
So the terrifying combat goddess secretly wants someone to put her in her place. Of course she does. Because nothing in this world makes sense unless it's wrapped in three layers of irony and daddy issues.
Lucian felt a slow grin spread across his face.
The secret the novel only revealed in the hidden R18 routes.
Seraphina didn't want someone to worship her strength. She wanted someone to match it. Exceed it. Put her in her place.
But the original Lucian? Weak. Pathetic. Someone she pitied.
Not anymore.
He closed the system window and turned away from the window.
The old Lucian would have run down there immediately. Would have challenged her out of desperation and ego.
But Lucian knew better.
Timing was everything.
Sunset came quickly.
The Grand Hall filled with first-year students—hundreds of them, buzzing with nervous energy.
Lucian found a seat near the back, away from the clusters of noble-born students preening and networking.
The headmaster gave a speech. Something about tradition, excellence, forging the future. Lucian barely listened.
He was too busy observing.
Three rows ahead: Elira Frostveil.
Silver-white hair, ice-blue eyes, posture so perfect it looked uncomfortable. She sat alone despite being surrounded by people. An invisible wall between her and everyone else.
The girl who would kill him in the original timeline.
[VILLAIN'S INSIGHT ACTIVATED]
Name: Elira Frostveil
Age: 16
Affection Level: 0 (Has not noticed you yet)
Combat Rank: S-
Hidden Trait: "Starving for Warmth" - Behind her cold exterior lies deep loneliness. She will bond intensely with anyone who shows her genuine understanding.
Story Role: Second Female Lead (Future bride of protagonist in original timeline)
WARNING: In original story, she kills you during the Academy Tournament Arc.
Lucian's jaw tightened.
Right. The girl who's supposed to put a spell through my heart.
He'd have to be very, very careful with her.
On the opposite side of the hall: Aria Lighthollow.
Golden blonde hair, soft features, gentle smile. She was surrounded by admirers—people drawn to her warmth like moths to flame.
The saint. The healer. The "pure" one.
[VILLAIN'S INSIGHT ACTIVATED]
Name: Aria Lighthollow
Age: 16
Affection Level: 0 (Unaware of your existence)
Healing Rank: S
Hidden Trait: "Masked Sadist" - Her saintly persona hides darker desires. She craves control and enjoys seeing others submit to her will.
Story Role: First Female Lead (Engaged to protagonist)
WARNING: In original story, you harass her repeatedly and she despises you.
Three heroines. Three completely different masks.
Lucian sat back in his chair, letting it all sink in.
Two sets of memories. Two lives. Two versions of himself.
The old Lucian—desperate, pathetic, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Always losing because he fought with emotion instead of strategy.
That Lucian was dead.
He looked at his hands, then back at the system window still glowing in his vision.
If the old Lucian had been fire—loud, obvious, easily extinguished—then he would be ice now. Calm. Patient. Deadly.
He knew their secrets. Their desires. Their weaknesses.
And he'd use every single one to survive.
Not out of cruelty. Out of necessity.
Let them think he's harmless. Let them think he's changed for the better. Let them believe the polite smiles and vulnerable confessions.
By the time they realized what he really was, it would be too late.
And somewhere in this hall was the protagonist himself—Cassian Brightmore.
Lucian spotted him easily. Center of the room, surrounded by admirers, golden hair practically glowing in the magical lighting.
The Chosen One. The Hero. The protagonist of "The Hero's Radiant Path."
[VILLAIN'S INSIGHT ACTIVATED]
Name: Cassian Brightmore
Age: 16
Affection Level: 0 (Unaware of your existence)
Combat Rank: A+
Hidden Trait: "Destined Hero" - Protected by narrative fate. Luck and opportunity bend toward him.
Story Role: Protagonist
WARNING: Direct confrontation with protagonist may trigger "Fate Correction" events.
"Destined Hero," Lucian muttered under his breath. "Of course."
The system was basically telling him: Don't fight the protagonist head-on or the story will punish you.
Fine.
He wouldn't fight him.
He'd just... take everything the hero was supposed to have.
The opportunities. The treasures. The girls.
All while staying just off the main story's radar.
The orientation ended. Students began filing out.
Lucian stood to leave—
"Well, well."
A voice cut through the crowd.
Lucian turned.
A group of boys blocked his path, led by a broad-shouldered student with slicked-back black hair and a sneer.