Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son

Chapter 292 Main Heroines [6]

Chapter 292  Main Heroines [6]

"How can this be happening!?"

Zenith groaned loudly, stomping alongside me as I grinned, thoroughly enjoying her frustration.

"It's happening, shorty," I said with a smug smile, glancing at her. "I didn't get slapped by Yenna."

"You were supposed to!" she snapped, glaring at me. "And stop calling my mother by her nickname!"

"I hope you die soon," Aimar muttered from my other side, sounding way too sincere for my comfort.

"I agree," Zenith said, nodding with enthusiasm.

"You guys are just jealous of my charm," I replied, shrugging off their hostility.

"Jealous of what?" Aimar scoffed. "Your ability to make everyone hate you?"

"Not everyone hates me."

"I do," Zenith said, raising her hand without hesitation.

"So do I," chimed in Amaury, who trailed a few steps behind us, his hand shooting into the air.

"Why?" I asked as I glanced back at him. "Is it because I didn't give you any leftover bones, mutt?"

"That's why people hate you," he replied, glaring at me. "Fucking racist."

I snapped a branch off a nearby tree and threw it down the path. "Go fetch, Amaury."

"Seriously, Elijah," Heather groaned, walking just behind us and shaking her head. "Why are you even friends with him?"

Elijah chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as if unsure himself.

I am your brother, fucking shit.

"Anyway," I said, sidestepping Zenith's attempt to shove me into a lamppost, "where exactly are we going?"

"Senior consultant class," Pasithea answered my query. "It's held every once in a while."

"I see," I mumbled as I looked around.

A lot of second-year students were walking along with us.

Our unusual group did bring curious glances from them.

When we arrived at the large circular field, senior students were already scattered about.

Some stretched and prepared for demonstrations, while others chatted in groups.

My gaze shifted towards Wilhlem, who stood at the corner with his arms crossed.

"Killian!" Zenith's face lit up as she darted toward a purple-haired boy nearby.

"..."

I quietly looked at her while other students slowly started to fill the place.

Elijah and the others also moved toward the senior students, while Aimar and I remained in our place.

"Does Yennefer actually know you?" Aimar asked, leaning lazily against a training dummy close by.

"Why would she?" I replied with a shrug. "Today was the first time I met her."

"It didn't seem that way," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes. "She looked oddly familiar with you."

"No way." I shrugged. "I would have known if that was the case."

He gave a slow, thoughtful nod, though his expression remained unconvinced, while I looked back at Zenith.

…She was talking shyly with Killian.

Unlike how she behaved with me, she acted quite differently around him.

'Right, she had a crush on him.'

Being the [Villainess maker], he had an unfair advantage, knowing most of them since childhood.

'And there is that guy too.'

I groaned, rubbing my temples.

Unlike the first game, the next one was a lot harder.

Just in comparison: if Ethan died ten times in the first game, Elijah could die a hundred times before the second game ended.

'It was a hardcore game.' I thought, shifting my gaze toward Avril.

She was talking with Elijah and Heather while laughing over something Elijah said.

Her eyes met mine briefly, but I looked away.

"....."

[<Are you happy?>]

'About what?' I replied to Inna's curiosity.

[<Seeing your sister living happily.>]

"....."

…I don't know.

After Christina left me, my emotions had numbed down a lot.

It's hard to describe it, but I feel more like Inder than I feel like Azariah.

I don't get easily mad, nor do I feel much happiness.

Maybe that's why I tried to ask Yennefer out.

To fill up the void in my heart.

[<Or maybe because you are suffering from mommy issues.>]

'I am not.' I scoffed.

[<It's okay. Qais is a good boy.>]

"....."

Ignoring Inna, I turned my gaze toward another girl who was stretching in the corner.

She had long, pristine white hair that was neatly tied in a ponytail.

Her skin glowed softly in the sun, while her pure white eyes stared at Killian like she would eat him alive.

Cecily Kurai Uzume.

A [Main Heroine] of the second game.

And…

Arianell's older sister.

'....Hm?'

Her subtle glare made me confused.

Why is she looking at him like that?

"Is everyone here?" Clapping his hands, Wilhlem walked toward the center of the field.

His gaze swept around before he nodded. "I believe so."

He gestured for the third-year students to move back before he looked at forty or so second-year students.

Zenith and the others returned back toward us.

"So," Wilhlem began, "as Cecily demonstrated last class, the effectiveness of arts varies from person to person."

He paced, hands clasped behind his back. "For those unfamiliar, arts are techniques designed to channel mana and weapons in the most fluent, efficient manner."

Those words were meant for Aimar and me.

Arts are uncommon in Lumina, unlike Akasha, where every family has their own.

"Anyway," he continued, "the same weapon art can have different effects depending on various aspects."

He gestured toward an elf. "He can mimic Uzume arts but can't use them to their full potential."

He turned to look at everyone. "Anyone know why?"

"Chi," one of us said. "He can't use chi."

"Exactly," he replied, nodding. "The base for every art is the energy corresponding to it."

His hand flicked, and a big circle large enough for two people to fight materialized on the ground.

"There is no art in which one can use more than one energy at once," he concluded before walking a little behind.

'Liar.'

I thought, staring at the high elf.

Unlike what he said, there is an art that can utilize more than one energy at a time.

His master's art, which he and Ragnar learned.

'Though even then, his art is also limited to utilizing two energies at once.'

I thought, staring at him.

"Now, which senior would like to demonstrate their art to the juniors?"

Wilhlem asked, leaning casually against the wall, gazing at the ten or so senior students.

A moment of silence passed before someone stepped forward.

'Urgh.'

I immediately groaned inwardly as I noticed his long, elongated ears.

'Not this shit trying to prove himself.'

The elf walked to the center of the circle.

His long green hair gave away his association with Gerald Highbloods.

A branch family member, perhaps?

His meadow-colored eyes moved around before fixing on me.

I immediately frowned as I tried to remember him.

But I have no idea who he was.

"Draco," he introduced himself with a warm smile.

"Third-year student, specializing in archery arts passed down by my grandfather."

His icy gaze landed in my direction. "To showcase my arts, I need someone."

'Let's get this over with,' I thought with a tired sigh.

But to my surprise, he said, "Elijah, please come forward."

I turned to look at Elijah, finding him as confused as I was.

Elijah blinked, pointing to himself. "Me?"

"Yes," Draco replied, still smiling.

Elijah hesitated but eventually rubbed the back of his neck and walked to the center of the circle.

I glanced over at Zenith, who was half-heartedly swinging a sword while Pasithea stood nearby.

"Who is he now?" I asked, snatching the sword from Zenith's hands before she could react.

"…Someone who likes Pasithea," Zenith muttered before glaring at me, noticing her empty hand.

I glanced at Pasithea, who was silently looking at them.

'This will be interesting.'

I thought, raising the sword high above my head just to watch Zenith struggle to reach it.

*******

Elijah quietly turned to look at Wilhlem.

His eyes clearly conveyed his annoyance and unwillingness to fight him.

But Wilhlem merely shrugged, dismissing the his plea.

"I've warned you before," Draco said, his gaze locked on Elijah like a predator sizing up prey. "Stay away from the princess."

"And haven't I asked you not to bother me, Senior?" Elijah replied with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Why are you making this difficult for yourself?"

"Oh?" Draco raised an eyebrow, a sneer on his lips. "Lesser beings like you really think too highly of yourselves."

Elijah only shrugged as he loosened his stance.

Across from him, Draco drew a bow from his bracelet.

Mana crackled faintly, sweeping from his hands, forming into an arrow of pure energy.

'How should I handle this?' Elijah wondered, studying Draco with dispassionate eyes. 'Without killing him, of course.'

His words may sound arrogant, but he knew he could end this elf's life with little effort if he wished.

"This is only a demonstration," Wilhiem's voice echoed. "So don't overdo it."

"Of course, Professor," Draco replied, smiling.

But Wilhlem just shrugged because those words weren't meant for him.

Draco grinned as he pulled the string of his bow.

The air around the bow hummed as mana swept out from his hand, forming an arrow.

While a circle conjured in front of Elijah's hand.

"Be careful, junior," he said with mocking concern before releasing the string.

SWISH.

The arrow streaked straight toward Elijah's chest—a fatal attack, but not deadly.

Elijah didn't flinch.

With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind rushed from the circle he'd conjured, redirecting the arrow harmlessly to the side.

"Is that it, senior?" Elijah asked, almost taunting.

Draco growled, rushing toward him. While closing the gap, he fired three mana-arrows in quick succession.

Elijah tried to make sense of his reasoning for using close combat despite being an archer.

His body moved instinctively as the arrows reached closer.

"Hap!"

He twisted, narrowly dodging two arrows while a gust of wind diverted the third from his throat.

But the moment Draco reached a one-meter distance, he suddenly grinned.

At this range, dodging was impossible.

His bow raised in close range as he conjured six mana-arrows on his bow.

Draco released the string, and all six arrows lunged at Elijah.

But Elijah remained calm, his hands weaving through the air.

"W-What?"

Draco stammered, almost tripping as he looked at circles forming around Elijah.

Casting two circles at once consisted of essentially splitting one's consciousness to mold and manipulate the mana differently.

But the moment Draco saw Elijah conjuring six at once, he started to doubt his knowledge.

Each circle released a powerful gust of wind, deflecting the arrows effortlessly.

"Arghh!"

Draco's jaw tightened as he prepared another strike, but this time Elijah moved first.

The elf hastily conjured a mana-arrow and fired, but Elijah caught it mid-flight with a mana-clad hand.

The impact pushed his arm back, but he spun smoothly, redirecting the arrow into Draco's arm.

"Grahhh!" Draco's howl filled the field as he tried to move back, blood splattering from the wound.

Before Draco could react, Elijah closed the gap.

He grinned. Grabbing his opponent's head, he drove his knee into Draco's face with brutal force.

CRACK!

Draco howled in agony as blood poured from his broken nose.

Elijah didn't stop there; instead, he started to twist Draco's arm slowly until his muscle began to tear.

But just as he prepared to continue, he felt his insides freeze.

He instinctively felt he was going to die.

Right here, right now.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a sharpened branch hurtling toward his skull.

...He saw his death.

"Huh?"

But in a split second, a firm tug on his shoulder yanked him back.

A flash of white-purple hair blurred past him as the branch was deflected mid-air.

His body fell down, sprawling on the ground.

Ignoring his restless heart, he looked up at where they stood.

Wilhlem and Himmel occupied his place, with their backs to him.

Himmel's fluttering hair calmed down as he lowered the broken sword in his trembling hand.

"Oh my," a soft, crispy voice echoed.

Elijah trembled, recognizing that voice.

It was the kind of sound that could make him quake in fear.

The voice of something demonic.