The Imperial Academy.Lecture Hall 4B - Department of Arcane Theory.07:45 AM.
The morning sun had barely crested the towering, fortified walls of the Imperial Capital, casting long, pale rays of light through the stained-glass windows of the Academy. The corridors, usually bustling with the frantic energy of hundreds of aristocratic students and their retinues of servants, were currently silent and empty.
Damien—now fully inhabiting the body and identity of Rudeus Blackfyre—stepped through the heavy oak doors of Lecture Hall 4B.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar, institutional scent of polished wood, alchemical chalk dust, and the faint, lingering ozone of residual mana. The tiered amphitheater was completely devoid of life. The rows of enchanted mahogany desks sat perfectly aligned, waiting for their privileged occupants.
'Hmm, it seems I'm the very first one to be here,' Rudeus thought, a small, genuinely satisfied smile touching his lips.
He walked down the carpeted aisle, his riding boots making barely a sound. He found his assigned seat in the third row, pulled out his chair—which was thankfully not currently occupied by his half-brother's boots—and sat down. He arranged his expensive, leather-bound grimoires and sharpened pencils with meticulous, military precision.
'See? I am a punctual person when I'm not actively having a panic attack or fighting an existential crisis in front of a mirror,' Rudeus mused, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
The silence of the room was a balm to his hyper-active mind. For the first time since he had woken up in this fictional universe, he had a moment to simply sit and exist without the immediate threat of a literal god attempting to crush his skull.
-CREAK!
The heavy brass hinges of the lecture hall door groaned, shattering the tranquility.
Rudeus didn't flinch, but his crimson eyes immediately darted toward the entrance.
A young man stepped into the room. He was tall, thin, and possessed a nervous, twitchy energy that made him look like a prey animal constantly scanning for predators. He had slicked-back, mousy brown hair and wore a pair of thick, wire-rimmed spectacles that magnified his pale, shifting eyes.
'Well, well, well,' Rudeus thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as his encyclopedic knowledge of The Chronicles of Adelina instantly supplied the boy's identity. 'If it isn't one of the most pathetic minor villains in the entire roster... and the absolute, unquestioning lapdog of Professor Vane.'
It was Gavin.
Gavin paused in the doorway, noticing that he wasn't alone. He adjusted his glasses, peering down the tiered seating. When he realized it was Rudeus Blackfyre sitting there, Gavin's expression shifted. He immediately averted his gaze, looking down at his shoes, his shoulders hunching defensively.
Rudeus looked at him, recognizing the sheer, palpable anxiety rolling off the boy. Rather than sneering or asserting his noble dominance like the original Rudeus would have done, Damien simply smiled a relaxed, disarming smile and offered a casual, lazy wave of his hand to signal that he wasn't looking for a fight.
'It's really been a while since I've seen you on a screen, huh, Gavin?' Rudeus thought, watching the boy scurry to a desk in the far front corner, keeping as much distance between them as possible.
Gavin was a tragic, infuriating character. He was a mid-tier boss encountered late in Arc 1. Canonically, Gavin was a one hundred percent baseline human. He possessed no noble blood, no inherent blessings, and only a cripplingly average mana core. Desperate to overcome his limitations and tired of being stepped on by the aristocracy, Gavin had secretly taken Professor Vane's horrific offer.
He traded his humanity for power, undergoing a gruesome, forbidden ritual to become a "Demonic Human." He truly, desperately believed that the abyssal mana would finally grant him the strength and respect he craved. But it was a complete scam. Vane didn't give him power; he simply turned Gavin into a disposable, mind-controlled battery for his own dark magic.
Rudeus leaned his head back against his chair, staring up at the vaulted ceiling.
He possessed the power to change things now. He could easily walk over to Gavin, grab him by the collar, and warn him about Vane. He could expose the ritual and save the boy from his horrific fate.
But he wouldn't.
Rudeus didn't intend to save everyone in this academy from their cruel, preordained fates. He wasn't a superhero. He was a tired, cynical veteran who had already died twice. The only person in this entire fictional universe he actively wanted to save was Rosetta Wisteria Arendelle—the Winter Monarch.
After all, Rosetta was the reason his standard for women had fundamentally changed during his teenage years. Her unyielding pride, her tragic backstory, and her sheer, icy competence had captivated him.
Though, even in his quiet moments of nostalgia, Rudeus knew the truth. Rosetta may have been his very first fictional crush, the character who drew him into this trashy game in the first place... but she was never his first true love. She wasn't his soulmate.
That title belonged, and would forever belong, to Melissa.
'Pathetic bastard,' Rudeus thought, looking back down at Gavin, who was currently biting his fingernails and arranging his quills with obsessive-compulsive speed. 'He knows deep down that something is completely off about Professor Vane. He feels the dark mana. He sees the missing students. And yet, he still chooses to stay by his side, blinded by his own pathetic greed for a shortcut to power.'
Rudeus shrugged, dismissing Gavin from his mind. You couldn't save people who were determined to walk into the fire.
Over the next fifteen minutes, the heavy doors opened frequently. A steady stream of students began to pour into the classroom, filling the tiered desks with the rustle of expensive fabrics, the clinking of jewelry, and the low hum of aristocratic gossip.
'Well, the daily torture of academic discussion is about to start again, I guess,' Rudeus sighed internally, propping his chin on his hand. 'Though, I seriously hope I won't fall asleep in his boring-ass class this time. I don't need another confrontation today.'
Right on the dot of 08:00 AM, the heavy oak doors swung shut with a resounding, magical slam.
Professor Vane glided into the room.
He didn't walk; he seemed to hover just above the floorboards, his dark crimson robes trailing behind him like spilled blood. The temperature in the room instantly dropped by ten degrees. The chatter among the students died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, fearful silence.
Vane stepped up to the massive oaken podium. He placed a thick, leather-bound grimoire onto the stand and looked out over the sea of students with eyes that held the cold, calculating intelligence of a predator assessing a herd.
"Very well, everyone. Settle down now," Vane commanded, his voice a dry, echoing rasp that scraped against the eardrums. "We will commence our discussion on the intricate lattice vulnerabilities of third-tier mana cores."
'Here we go again,' Rudeus groaned inwardly, his face turning visibly sour as he prepared to endure another gruesome, mind-numbing dive into magical theory taught by a demon in disguise.
***
Two Hours Later.
After two grueling "Hours of Joy"—a term Rudeus used with the heaviest, most caustic sarcasm his internal monologue could muster—he finally let out a massive sigh of profound relief as Vane abruptly dismissed the class and swept out of the room.
The oppressive atmosphere instantly lifted. Students slumped over their desks, rubbing their cramped writing hands and groaning collectively.
"Haah... goddamnit. Why is Professor Vane always so excessively stingy with his grading rubrics?" a male student complained loudly, stretching his back. He was sitting a few rows down from Rudeus.
"Let it be, man. He will have his time," his companion, a minor noble with a crest of a silver falcon on his blazer, replied in a hushed, bitter tone. "After letting us suffer so much with these impossible theoretical assignments, I bet his time will come soon. Soon enough. The Headmaster has to notice his fail rates eventually."
"Yeah, I seriously hope so," the first student grumbled, packing his bag aggressively. "Like... fuck. I genuinely want that motherfucker to die. I heard a rumor he makes the failing students clean the restricted alchemy labs without protective gear."
Rudeus, who was casually organizing his notes, paused. His enhanced hearing picked up the conversation clearly.
He shifted his gaze toward the front of the room.
He saw Gavin. The bespectacled boy had completely frozen in the middle of packing his own bag. His back was stiff, his head tilted slightly, listening to the two students complaining about his beloved mentor.
'Ohooh,' Rudeus thought, leaning back in his chair. 'Bad idea, boys. Very bad idea.'
Gavin's hands clenched into tight fists. He shot a venomous, hateful glare toward the two complaining students, his pale eyes magnifying his fury behind his thick lenses. Without saying a word, Gavin snatched his satchel, spun on his heel, and practically sprinted out the door, moving much faster than a standard student should.
'That little snitch!' Rudeus thought, shaking his head in sheer disgust as he watched Gavin disappear into the hallway. 'He's running straight to Vane's office right now. Those two idiots are going to find themselves assigned to "special detention" by tonight. Haah... I'm genuinely glad he is destined to die in Act 1 by the protagonist's hand.'
There were many things that Rudeus hated. He hated arrogant gods, he hated the System, and he hated the cold. But what he hated the most, a deeply ingrained prejudice carried over from his past life as a Vanguard Captain, were snitches.
In the military, a snitch in your unit meant broken trust. Broken trust in a dungeon meant a compromised flank, which inevitably meant good soldiers coming home in body bags. He hated cowards who hid behind the authority of stronger men with the absolute bottom of his heart.
If it wouldn't immediately break his cover and ruin his grand escape plan, he would have loved nothing more than to corner the boy in the hallway and call him "Vane's little femboy" to his face, just to watch him squirm.
But Rudeus was not a fool.
He didn't possess the requisite mana capacity, the physical conditioning, or the systemic abilities to beat a Greater Demon General like Vane in a straight fight. Therefore, he had absolutely zero intention of beating Gavin's ass and drawing the demon's undivided attention. He wanted the protagonist, Adelina, to do all that heavy lifting and exterminate the trash while he quietly slipped out the back door. He just wanted a peaceful life—or at the very least, a quiet, strategic existence plotting alongside Rosetta in the North.
Rudeus grabbed his satchel and stood up from his seat.
As he turned to head for the aisle, he felt a familiar, burning prickle on the back of his neck.
It was a glare. A heavy, intensely hostile stare loaded with childish malice.
Rudeus didn't even need to look to know who it was. He casually shifted his eyes to the right.
Sitting two rows back, glaring daggers at him, was Aemond. The white-haired half-brother was stewing in a toxic mixture of humiliation from their earlier encounter and inherent, aristocratic entitlement.
Rudeus completely ignored him. He simply averted his eyes and continued walking. He had absolutely zero time or mental energy to spare for a middle schooler—especially a kid suffering from a terminal case of "Main Character Syndrome."
'Fucking middle schooler with his arrogant, textbook "Main Character Syndrome",' Rudeus spat inwardly, feeling a wave of profound disgust that completely overrode any lingering familial connection the original body might have felt. He truly couldn't give a single, solitary fuck about Aemond's glare.
Even back on Earth, when he was just playing The Chronicles of Adelina on his monitor, he had always violently hated Aemond's personality. Aemond was the classic, cliché "Young Master" archetype—born with a silver spoon, gifted with high-tier magic, constantly looking down on everyone, and believing the entire universe revolved around his whims.
When Adelina, the protagonist, finally handed Aemond his brutal, long-overdue demise in Arc 2, Damien had actually cheered at his screen.
But honestly, looking back on it now, if Damien had been writing Adelina's character, he would have given Aemond a far more brutal and merciless death. What Adelina did in the canonical game was undeniably brutal—she systematically cut off his limbs, severing his legs with light magic, and left him crawling on the bloody ground of the tournament arena, crying and begging for help like a pathetic worm while the entire nobility watched in silence.
It was satisfying, yes. But Damien would have aimed for the eyes.
'Man, I really, really want to gouge those arrogant gray eyes of his right out of his skull,' Rudeus thought, his fingers twitching involuntarily as he walked out into the corridor. 'Maybe later. Maybe after I completely fix the underlying physical conditioning and the raw muscular strength of this frail body. That motherfucker is literally a fifteen-year-old walking cliché. The exact type of arrogant young master you always see infesting the pages of every cheap Manhwa and Web Novel on the internet.'
As Rudeus navigated the crowded hallway, his mind shifted from analyzing Aemond to analyzing himself. Or rather, analyzing the original owner of his body.
'I mean, to be fair to the original Rudeus... he was genuinely feared within the Duchy. He wasn't entirely useless. Those maids, the footmen, the other butlers... they literally had a very good reason to fear him. Not because of his magical prowess, but because of his incredibly wide, surprisingly competent intelligence network.'
Rudeus tapped his chin thoughtfully as he walked.
'The kid had eyes and ears everywhere. He knew the secrets of the cooks, the blackmail material on the guards. It gave him a massive, asymmetric advantage. Honestly, if his character arc wasn't completely nerfed by the writers forcing him to be desperately, pathetically in love with Princess Veronica... he might have actually been the best, most competent Antagonist of Arc 1. He had way more potential for psychological warfare than Vane or Gavin ever did. He literally had so much raw, untapped potential. Even the people on the forums saw it.'
The thought of the forums triggered a sudden, vivid flashback.
Damien closed his eyes for a second, and he wasn't in the marble hallways of the Imperial Academy anymore. He was back in his cramped, messy bedroom in Seattle, the glow of a dual-monitor setup illuminating the dark room. He was sixteen years old, leaning back in a cheap gaming chair, furiously scrolling through the primary discussion boards for The Chronicles of Adelina.
The text of the forum threads appeared in his mind's eye with absolute clarity, a nostalgic echo from a dead world.
[Thread: Arc 1 Rant / Rudeus Wasted Potential?]
Ladiesman217:Man, I'm telling you guys, Rudeus really had so much raw potential to become the Final Villain of Arc 1 instead of that predictable demon professor. Because he literally has the most rightful, justified crashout in the entire game. The dude gets treated like garbage by his family, gets handed a princess, and then gets cucked. Also, fuck this yuri game bro! I literally bought and played this game because I thought there was NO NTR or cuckold tags, but the devs literally snuck it into the main plotline! Also, fuck Yuri Lovers! You guys ruined the genre!
Tomboysmasher69replied to Ladiesman217:I completely agree, man. This is literally just another disguised NTR game where you are stealing girls away from their fiances, but the only difference is the character you are controlling is a girl. Seriously, my ex-girlfriend recommended this game to me last month. But after I finished Act 1 and saw the Veronica route? I broke up with her immediately. I knew when the time she introduced this specific yuri harem game to me, she was already giving off massive Red Flag vibes. I'm honestly glad I did break up with her, because literally a week later her parents found out she was secretly dating a lesbian from her college lol. Dodged a bullet.
Ladiesman217replied to Tomboysmasher69:Holy shit bro, that's wild. But yeah, fuck Cheating bro. Seriously, who the fuck actually wants NTR so much that they put it in a fantasy academy game?
Lolifucker999replied to Ladiesman217:I agree brochacho. Pure vanilla is the only way.
Tomboysmasher69replied to Ladiesman217:Ohh hell nahh, look at the name of this dude who just replied to you. This motherfucker is literally the Jeffrey Epstein of the anime community! Do not agree with him!
Ladiesman217replied to Tomboysmasher69:Yikes. Mods, please ban this guy immediately before the FBI monitors this thread.
IshmaelFootLicker (Moderator/PGR PLAYER):User [Lolifucker999] has been permanently banned from this Forum for violating naming conventions and general degeneracy.
Tomboysmasher69:Thanks Mod. Doing god's work. Also, for the record: Tomboys and MILFS >>>>>> Lolis any day of the week.
VillainessLover/Gooner:You're all wrong. Villainesses >>>>>>> Everyone else combined. Step on me.
Tomboysmasher69:You know what? I actually agree with that, bro. Villainesses are always peak!
[User VillainessLover/Gooner hearted Tomboysmasher69's comment.]
Ladiesman217replied to VillainessLover/Gooner:Man, your taste in women is absolutely crazy. They literally want to murder you and freeze your family.
VillainessLover/Goonerreplied to Ladiesman217:Shut the fuck up, you basic Heroine simp! Get out of my sight, you uncultured heretic. You wouldn't know peak fiction if it stabbed you with an icicle.
[User Ladiesman217 reacted with 'Crying Face' to VillainessLover/Gooner's comment.]
Rudeus snapped back to reality, a broad, incredibly genuine smile spreading across his face as he walked through the grand corridors. He remembered the ridiculous, toxic, yet undeniably hilarious shenanigans he used to engage in on that forum when he was still an edgy teenager in his past life.
"Man, I really miss using my old account," Rudeus chuckled quietly to himself.
His username on The Chronicles of Adelina official forums had been "VillainessLover/Gooner". He used that exact, unhinged moniker for every single username in every multiplayer game he played, including an embarrassing amount of Gacha Games. Well, after all, the name literally spoke for itself. He knew what he liked, and he wasn't afraid to broadcast it to the digital world.
"Though, no one on those boards could ever successfully argue with me!" Rudeus muttered, puffing his chest out slightly with misplaced internet pride. "After all, Villainesses are objectively the best-written characters in the medium!"
He slowed his pace, his smile fading into a more analytical expression.
"Hmm... though it really is weird when you think about it from a narrative perspective. The only genuinely well-written, multi-dimensional characters in this entire game are Adelina, the original Rudeus, and all of the primary Villainesses. The rest of the cast—the princes, the noble allies, the side heroines—have absolutely trash character development and incredibly lazy, two-dimensional writing."
Rudeus shrugged, adjusting the strap of his satchel. He didn't want to mind it too much. He wasn't a literary critic; he was a survivor trapped in the book.
"Whatever. Let's just focus on the immediate objective. I need to find that 28-year-old Head Maid already."
He mapped out the quickest route to the East Wing staff quarters in his head. Approaching Amanda was a massive, incredibly dangerous gamble. She was a lethal assassin hiding in plain sight. If he approached her wrong, if he seemed like a threat to the Princess, she wouldn't hesitate to snap his neck and make his body disappear into the academy's incinerators.
But it was a gamble he had to take. He needed her keys, and he needed her silence, if he was going to access the restricted training gymnasiums and rebuild his physique.
"I really, really hope this blackmail plan works," Rudeus said, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. "Because if it doesn't... if she refuses to listen or tries to kill me... I'll just have to pack my bags and leave this academy early tonight, and take my chances surviving in the wilderness."
With the stakes set and his mind clear, Rudeus began to whistle a jaunty, off-key tune.
The cheerful sound echoed down the opulent, marble hallways of the Imperial Academy, a stark and jarring contrast to the lethal, treasonous plans currently brewing inside the mind of the boy the world believed was nothing more than a pathetic defect.