Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

Chapter 178: Revert [2]

Different?

Ronan did not understand what she meant. He had no reason to care about something so vague, but Aura’s expression was serious enough that he checked the simplest, most measurable answer.

So he opened her affection page.

Then he froze.

Affection: 52

Trust: 31

Loyalty: 40

Ronan stared at the numbers longer than he should.

They had all increased.

That alone would not have surprised him. The invasion, the Demon Leech, watching him nearly die and then return – all of it could create a spike in emotional attachment.

That was a predictable human – and apparently demonic – response.

But the distribution was wrong.

Before the battle royale, her loyalty had been higher than her affection.

That made sense.

Their relationship was built on a contract, mutual survival, usefulness, and shared secrets.

He gave her freedom and a path to revenge, she gave him a hidden weapon and information.

Affection existed as a byproduct of their banter and shared danger, but it was not supposed to be the dominant value.

Now her affection had overtaken everything else.

By a lot.

Ronan did not understand it. He had no framework for this kind of data.

Even in the novel, Aura’s core trait had been her loyalty. Loyalty above all. Loyalty above even her own feelings.

Aura noticed his blank expression.

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

Ronan closed the page and chose to address the more immediate problem.

"I know why I seem different."

"Then explain."

"The assimilation timer has shortened," he said, his voice monotone. "Roughly three months left."

Aura’s eyes widened. Her breath hitched.

A sound that was almost a shout died in her throat, and she caught herself, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper.

"Are... you certain?"

"I am."

"How? How do you know?"

The question caught his attention. She had not pushed this hard before.

But this time, her tone was more direct. More desperate.

Likely because she actually cared now, at least according to the affection page.

Ronan was not sure what to do with that information.

So he used the existing lie.

"I saw it," he said. "I saw the Leech beginning to consume me. The same way my visions sometimes show me things I shouldn’t know, this one gave me a sense of how close the assimilation is."

Convenient and clean. No need to mention the system.

Aura’s face shifted from alarm to something closer to despair. Her lips parted, and she asked again, as if repetition might change the answer she didn’t want to hear.

"Are you sure?"

He just nodded. "The timing likely lines up with the Radiant Crown Tournament."

Her pupils shrank. Her deep, steady purple eyes remained fixed on him as she processed the information. For a long moment, she looked less like the teasing, arrogant demon princess he was used to and more like someone forcing herself not to panic. Then she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her expression was a mask of control, held together by sheer effort.

"Is that why you’re acting different?"

Ronan shook his head. "This is how I have always been."

The words were simple, but his thoughts moved backward. To his previous life.

Back then, every day had felt like life or death. It was not always true. The orphanage had been peaceful for the most part. There wasn’t anything particularity dangerous about it, but due to his experience with his parents, he had lived his life thinking that every second he was in danger somehow.

But he had already built the habit by then. Push everything aside. Identify the goal. Learn what was necessary. Remove distractions. Survive.

At the orphanage, the goal had been knowledge.

Learn the world. Learn the adults who ran it. Learn the systems that governed it. He learned escape routes, daily habits, individual weaknesses, patterns of punishment from the matrons, the structure of language, the tells on every face.

He had believed the whole world was out to get him, even when the world was barely paying him any attention.

Then time passed. He escaped the orphanage with Sophia.

Then he left her. One of his few regrets, perhaps. At the time, leaving had seemed correct. Sophia was familiar. A known variable. A repeating pattern. He wanted to see things he did not already understand. He wanted new information, new places, new people.

So he left.

After that, slowly, he learned that he was safe. Not completely. But safe enough. There were not enemies in every room. Not every kindness was a trap.

Life became boring, and that boredom gave him enough room to imitate the people around him better. To smile. To joke. To perform at being normal.

It had been boring... but comfortable. Even after the leech first attached to him, he’d never felt in any real danger. He had enough plans to where he thought he could get it out of him in the remaining 300+ days.

Now that comfort was gone. Three months.

Everything had to be perfect. He had to get the Radiant Crown. He had to use its power to delay the Leech. He had to control Seraphina, keep Grace from overtaking him, survive the political aftermath of the invasion so it doesn’t hinder his progress, and prepare for a tournament that might no longer follow the script he knew and read.

There was no spare effort left for a silly performance for entertainment purposes.

Aura studied him quietly, her purple eyes searching his face.

Then she spoke, her voice softer than before. "I’m not too surprised, however. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you like this."

The statement surprised him. He tilted his head, but did not ask further. Not now. He did not care enough to spend time chasing the details.

Instead, he changed the subject.

"Go to Freya. Arrange another meeting in the forest. We need to become more aggressive with the Blood Deity rituals."

Aura’s expression tensed with alarm. "What do you mean?"

"I’m going to try to communicate with it."

Her alarm turned to full-blown panic. "Are you insane? After Xyta? After what happened with Mesmer? Ronan, those ritual are forbidden for a reason. Even if you succeed, you don’t know what you’ll be talking to."

Before she could continue, a sharp knock cut through the air.

A voice came from the other side. Polite and official.

"Hello! We believe Ronan Ashbourne is inside. You are not in trouble, but we need to ask you some questions."

Ronan looked at Aura, completely unsurprised. He gave her a small nod and stood.

In a low voice, he reminded her. "Contact Freya."

Aura shook her head, her hand reaching for his arm.

"This is a terrible idea," she whispered, her voice tight with fear.

Ronan did not answer. He left the room.

Outside, two Academy staff members waited for him.

Ronan did not recognize them. As they led him through the girls’ dormitory, students in the hallway stared openly. Some whispered. Some giggled behind their hands. Ronan couldn’t hear the exact words, but the reason was obvious enough.

He was leaving Aura’s room with Academy staff.

As they walked, Ronan tried to pull information from one of the staff. "Is this about the demon attack?"

The man slowed slightly. For a moment, Ronan thought he would refuse to answer.

Then the man let out a tired sigh.

"It is related," he confirmed, "but I don’t know much more. I’ve been forbidden from learning the details."

Ronan nodded once and fell half a step back.

That was enough. If ordinary staff were forbidden from knowing the details, then this was not a routine medical follow-up. It was either a noble-family matter, a royal matter, or an investigation involving someone whose testimony was being tightly controlled.

Seraphina.

His mind began constructing possible responses immediately.

If she had already spoken, he might be walking into a containment cell. If she had not, this was an opportunity. He needed to avoid contradicting anything she might have said. More importantly, he needed to learn what she remembered, what she chose to hide, and whether she could be controlled through gratitude, fear, curiosity, royal pressure, or some combination of all four.

They reached a private lounge in one of the Academy’s administrative wings. The guards outside the door stepped aside.

Then they looked away.

Ronan’s suspicion sharpened. He opened the door.

The first person he saw was Seraphina.

She was seated inside, and her face lit up with relief the moment he entered. Then she flinched, looked away, and a wave of guilt crossed her expression.

He was confused for only a second.

Then he realized why.

He saw the second person.

Arthur Valon.

The student council president sat with a practiced, warm smile, his posture perfect, and his gaze sharp. That was concerning.

Arthur was not an ally by any means.

But Arthur was not the true problem.

Because seated between Arthur and Seraphina, wearing a simple but undeniably royal mantle over his shoulders, was the king of the kingdom himself.

King Theron Valon.

Ronan stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, realizing this was not an Academy inquiry.

No, this was far more dangerous.