Blessed to be the Villain

"You'll be the reason everyone dies. Everything will change. Nothing will ever be the same again."

Any other time, Ethan would have dismissed these words as the ramblings of a madwoman. But for some reason, right now, he couldn't bring himself to ignore them. A strange weight settled in his chest, the woman's voice echoing in his mind like an ominous whisper from fate itself.

He was still lost in thought when one of his guards stepped forward, his voice loud and furious.

"How dare you! How dare you speak about the young master like that!"

The guard leveled his spear at the woman, his stance rigid and aggressive, fingers tightening around the weapon as if barely restraining himself from striking.

The knights standing beside Ethan didn't intervene. They neither moved to stop the guard nor seemed inclined to help the woman. They simply watched, their expressions impassive, unreadable.

But Ethan couldn't remain silent.

Before he could speak, the man beside the woman reacted swiftly. His face was pale, his eyes wide with sheer panic. He lunged forward, pressing a trembling hand over her mouth, stifling any further words.

"Please, my lord!" he begged, his voice quivering. "She's just babbling nonsense! Don't mind her, please don't hurt her!"

The woman struggled in his grip, muffled sounds escaping as she tried to speak. Her wild eyes, burning with something close to desperation, locked onto Ethan's.

The guard, however, remained unmoved. His jaw tightened, his grip on the spear like iron. His body tensed—he was ready to strike.

Ethan opened his mouth, about to stop him.

But then—

A flash of light.

In the next instant, the spear was severed. The upper half clattered to the ground with a dull clang.

Everyone froze.

A figure had appeared between the pleading man and the guard.

His black robe billowed, though there was no wind. His dark hair was messy yet seemed effortlessly perfect, as if it naturally fell into place. His striking green eyes—so vivid they seemed to glow—held a sharp, almost predatory intensity.

For a brief moment, Ethan found himself thinking, "Is he part succubus? Incubus, maybe?" The man was simply too handsome, his features sculpted with an unnatural allure.

The newcomer stood poised, his sword lowered but ready, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. His presence alone seemed to shift the air, crackling with quiet authority.

Inside Ethan's mind, the system's voice rang out.

[A protagonist!!!…]

The moment of stunned silence passed quickly.

Every guard around Ethan reacted in an instant, hands flying to their weapons. Swords hissed from their sheaths. Spears were gripped tighter, their tips glinting as they were aimed at the young man.

One of the knights stepped forward, his voice cold and commanding.

"Who are you? Do you understand what you've just done? Do you realize whose guards you've attacked? Identify yourself and face the consequences."

Ethan felt like facepalming.

"Dude, are you stupid? Who the hell would actually answer you if you ask like that?" he thought, exasperation bubbling up inside him.

The young man didn't flinch. Instead, his gaze hardened as he met the knight's glare head-on. His grip on his sword remained firm, his stance unwavering.

"Yes, I know whose guards I attacked," he said, his voice smooth but edged with contempt. "A man who was about to strike an innocent woman just because his ego was hurt."

Then, to Ethan's disbelief, the man turned his piercing green gaze on him.

Ethan blinked, looking left and right as if to confirm there wasn't someone else behind him.

"Who… me?" he muttered, his brows furrowing.

His thoughts raced.

"Wait, wait, wait! What did I do?! I didn't even say anything! That guy acted on his own—how the hell is this my fault? I'm being framed here!"

The knight's expression darkened, fury flashing in his eyes. His voice rose, filled with indignation.

"How dare you?!"

Ethan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

"Man… these people are really going to get me killed, aren't they?"

His gaze flickered to the newcomer.

"I mean… did no one see how this guy just appeared out of nowhere? You guys couldn't even see his movements, and yet you're still talking like that? Are you trying to get yourselves killed?"

This ridiculous standoff had gone on long enough.

Ethan straightened, his voice cutting through the rising tension.

"Stop it."

The weight in his tone made even the most aggressive guards hesitate.

His crimson eyes swept over the knights.

"Lower your weapons."

A murmur of protest rippled through the guards. One of them stepped forward, his face twisted with barely restrained anger.

"But, young master—!"

Ethan cut him off.

"I don't care." His voice was sharp, final. "It's your fault for trying to hurt her. Do you think I'm that petty? That I actually care what a crazy lady says about me?"

The guards flinched.

"I was about to stop you myself." Ethan turned on his heel. "Now, let's go. Didn't you say the commander ordered you to bring me back before sunset? Well, look—" he gestured vaguely at the darkening sky. "The sun's about to set. So let's go."

Then, as if the entire ordeal no longer mattered, Ethan simply walked away. His steps were calm, unhurried, as though none of this had ever been his problem.

The guards hesitated, looking at each other with visible reluctance. But in the end, they couldn't defy direct orders. One by one, they turned and followed their young master.

The mysterious young man remained frozen in place, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Behind him, the kneeling man suddenly bowed, his forehead pressing against the dirt. His voice trembled with gratitude.

"Thank you, young master! Thank you for your generosity!"

Ethan didn't look back.

---

Back at the Mansion

The warm water had done little to wash away the lingering weight of the day.

Ethan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his golden eyes dim with thought.

Everything that had happened today—it felt surreal.

He pressed a hand to his chest, and for a fleeting second, he swore he could feel phantom pain burning where Lara had burned him

His mind drifted.

The woman's cryptic warning. The contract he had signed. The silent goodbye.

A twinge of regret settled in his gut.

"Maybe… if I ever meet her again, I'll apologize for what I did."

Then, his thoughts sharpened. The woman's words. Her desperate expression. The fear in the man's eyes.

Something was wrong.

Ethan knew that today, he had only seen what he was allowed to see. The city still held secrets—layers he had yet to peel back.

And that was why he had left a certain mark in that alleyway.

Tonight… he would sneak out.

A smirk ghosted his lips as he closed his eyes.

"Time to see the world for what it really is."

As his breathing evened out, the window of his room creaked open.

A figure, clad in black, slipped inside, their movements silent as death.

The moonlight gleamed off a dagger—cold, silver, and poised to strike.