Maybe I really am a Villian

“Why are you trying to kill me, Princess…?” The silver-haired boy’s voice was faint, barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He lay sprawled across the cold marble floor, his body drenched in blood that slowly pooled beneath him. The blonde-haired girl looked down at him, her blue eyes devoid of warmth. “It’s not my fault, Asher,” she replied in an indifferent tone. “This is the result of your own stubbornness. I simply asked you to join my faction… but you insisted on remaining neutral. I can’t allow a wild card like you to roam free.” Asher let out a weak, breathless chuckle, the sound tinged with mockery. “I don’t think… that’s the whole truth, Princess.” For a brief moment, her gaze sharpened. “…You’re right. There is another reason.” “And what is that?” he asked, his voice trembling but his eyes steady. Her lips curled ever so slightly. “You’re a pathetic fool. Someone with enough talent to grasp power… yet no desire for revenge.” “Revenge?” Asher murmured, as if tasting the word. “For what? My mother’s death? And against whom?” “Against the demons who caused it.” A low, broken laugh escaped his lips. “Haha… Princess, don’t joke.” His bloodstained fingers twitched against the floor. “We both know the truth. The ones responsible for my mother’s death are the Imperial Family… and the Church. They feared my family’s growing influence.” Her expression remained unchanged. “And yet, it was demons who struck the final blow. You feel no hatred—not toward them, not toward the Church. Shouldn’t they be your enemies?” Asher slowly turned his head, his pale eyes meeting hers. “No, Princess… I don’t have enemies.” A faint smile appeared on his lips despite his condition. “I only have obstacles. And it seems… your family and the Church are becoming just that.” A subtle shift passed through the air. “So what are you going to do?” she asked coldly. “Destroy us?” “Of course,” he whispered, as if stating something obvious. “It’ll be a hassle… but I think it might also be fun.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? By haunting us as a ghost?” His smile widened—strangely calm, almost amused. “You’ll find out soon enough.” One of the four Platinum Rank knights standing beside the Princess stepped forward. “Princess, we don’t have time. We must finish this now.” She gave a small nod, her voice devoid of emotion. “Do it. I can no longer tolerate his pathetic existence.” Without hesitation, the knight raised his blade. A single, clean strike. Asher’s head fell, his expression frozen in that same unsettling smile—as though he had just discovered a new game to play. “Dispose of the body,” the Princess said, turning away. “I’m going to sleep.” With that, space distorted around her, and she vanished. The Next Day Class S — Main Classroom Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, illuminating the quiet murmurs of elite students gathered inside “Good morning, Princess.” The voice was light. Casual. Familiar. Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly. Standing near the entrance, perfectly alive, was Asher. Smiling. Not a single trace of injury marked his body. For the first time, a flicker of disbelief crossed her otherwise composed mind. Impossible… I’m certain the one I killed yesterday was his real body. Not a clone. Not an illusion. Then what… is this? Asher tilted his head slightly, his silver hair catching the light as his smile deepened. “So, Princess…” His eyes gleamed with something dangerous—something playful. “Our game begins today.”