Chapter 83
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: The Villain's Role
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“…Come to think of it, Professor, you knew beforehand that Professor Prezel was the insider. That’s why you separated me from her.”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you stop Professor Prezel?”
Elin’s eyes simmered with faint hostility as she rested her chin on her hand.
To me, Professor Prezel was nothing more than a disposable villain, but to Elin, she must have been one irreplaceable acquaintance.
Her dejected demeanor seemed like an extension of that.
‘Comforting her… probably wouldn’t be the best idea.’
“Was there any need to stop her?”
“Huh?”
From Elin’s perspective, she’d wish the tunnel incident never happened and got shut down early, but I don’t act with goals like that.
Which meant what happened to Professor Prezel was irrelevant to me.
I gazed at Elin, who sat there interlocking her fingers in bewilderment.
Her eyes, pleading for an explanation, pierced straight into my chest, but they still couldn’t draw out any guilt from me.
When I saved Isel and Elin during the practical training disaster, I shouldered the karma of twisting the original story.
The hand I reached out because I couldn’t abandon even one.
The responsibility I took on to save even one.
Was that why I shattered the sturdy path leading to the story’s completed ending, one that would save countless lives?
‘No.’
Saving students is good. Reducing loss of life is good.
But my true wish was for the protagonists, who would taste endless frustration after frustration in a scenario barreling straight toward ruin—all under the excuse of having to save someone.
My gaze had always been fixed on the protagonists.
During the practical disaster, it was for Elin, who tried to save her companions only to fail and fall into despair.
In the magic tower, it was to temper the protagonists for the tunnel incident ahead.
‘And in the tunnel, it was to save Radia from crumbling into utter helplessness.’
The protagonists have power, so they can save others.
More people than most.
‘But is that truly right?’
It’s the question that always drags me into self-contradiction.
But no matter how much I try to block their path, the protagonists will grow stronger.
Through enemies and trials—those things they call quests—meant to hand them new content.
Just like in the original, they’ll overcome narratives of suffering, grow, and eventually assemble the forces needed for the ending.
But so what?
Does that mean mere early-twenties kids, fresh out of the gate into society, have to endure the deaths of their loved ones, tasting despair and agony along the way?
Is having power justification enough for them to suffer that?
I let that narrative slide without a second thought because it was a ‘game.’
Because it was fiction, and protagonists rising through adversity are cool.
Because it stirs emotions so easily.
But if that were someone’s reality, I would never have let it pass.
I let out a long breath.
The protagonists will surely save many people.
Because they have power.
So then, who will comfort the protagonists when they fall into despair? Who will save them?
That remained an open question for me.
The irony of saving others while remaining unsaved yourself.
But even I can’t protect the protagonists completely.
‘I can’t be the raincoat that shields you forever.’
No matter how strong Aiden is, he’s just one extra among those who die to the great demon lord.
But at least until then.
I can’t stop a downpour, but I hope to be an umbrella that blocks at least a light drizzle.
‘Even that much is already more than my hands can handle.’
I’d save the students too if I could, but if my hands are full, there’s nothing to be done.
If I were stronger, I wouldn’t toss the protagonists into danger just to raise them—I’d tell them to head to the shelter like any other students.
I’m doing this because I can’t.
Because I’ve always been selfish.
Because my power falls short.
Because I can’t save everyone.
‘In that case, at least…’
I looked at Radia and Elin.
Eyes brimming with confusion and tension, faces shadowed as if on the verge of tears.
‘Being hated is my role, then.’
The protagonists in the original story didn’t even have someone to hate.
I opened my mouth.
“I won’t say something lame like ‘I didn’t think it would go this far.’”
“Then why!”
Elin started to rise indignantly, but Radia held her back.
Even from Radia, though, I could sense a subtle unease.
“…Hmm.”
I slowly unclasped my hands and lifted my chin arrogantly.
I don’t seek pity. I don’t seek understanding.
I do it because I want to.
‘Which means I shouldn’t expect the protagonists’ support in return.’
At times like these, my image as the bland guy clinging to Aiden proves awfully useful.
Elin glared at me.
“Professor, you could have stopped the whole mess before it started.”
She clamped her mouth shut afterward, her eyes daring me to say more if there was anything left.
“If you’d just stopped Professor Prezel…”
“Elin.”
I met Elin’s gaze.
“No matter how things played out, I would have killed Professor Prezel.”
At my words, Elin went deathly pale and slumped to the floor.
“Don’t show mercy to your enemies just because they have a backstory. Even if you pity theirs, they won’t pity yours.”
“…Was Professor Prezel really an enemy?”
Elin’s voice quivered, delaying my response for a beat, but I nodded.
“A traitor.”
Elin’s wounded expression stabbed at my chest.
But given her personality, if no one tore her illusions down like this, she’d just dig a hole and crawl into it alone.
Something like, ‘If I’d paid more attention to her, Professor Prezel wouldn’t have made that choice.’
I clicked my tongue to myself.
‘Can’t let that happen.’
The longer she wallows in self-recrimination, the more the wound festers.
I defined Professor Prezel in no uncertain terms.
“Not just any traitor—she was scum who betrayed humanity for her own selfish gain and made a pact with a demon.”
Elin hung her head low.
“…So I went around thinking I owed a debt to someone like that.”
“You think that was a favor?”
Elin snapped her head up and glared at me, startled.
A bit of blood welled on her bitten lip.
Her eyes screamed that even for me, that was too harsh.
But I’m the original story’s canon strongest bland Aiden.
Other people’s feelings? Not my problem.
“She probably did it just to win you over. Who knows—maybe she even pulled the strings behind your bullying…”
“Professor Aiden!!”
Radia stared at me, face drained of color.
“You’re overdoing it.”
I swallowed a thick silence and shot Elin a sidelong glance.
Teardrops like beads trailed down her cheeks.
“…I like you, Professor, but sometimes—really—talking to you is just so exhausting.”
“…….”
“I’m heading out.”
I watched Elin turn and climb the stairs to her room, then closed my eyes.
Radia fixed me with a steady stare before sighing.
“You didn’t have to go that far.”
“Didn’t I?”
“You did.”
She seemed resigned, like there was no helping the situation now, but worry crept into her gaze as she looked at me.
“You didn’t have to cast yourself as the villain.”
*She’s strong enough to bounce back on her own without you hurting her like that.*
Radia shot me a sullen look, leaving those words unsaid.
“I’ve never once volunteered for the villain role.”
“We know better than anyone that you’re not the type to trash people without reason.”
Her eyes full of conviction left me swallowing my own silence.
“The pressure you piled on me in the magic tower, forcing those impossible choices—even if I couldn’t understand it then, it all ended up helping me in the end. And…”
Radia’s eyes fell on the note she kept so preciously.
No need to frame the damn thing.
“…You notice even the details we overlook ourselves.”
“Too much praise.”
The way Radia watched me carried a sigh.
“But you keep us at arm’s length, Professor.”
“…….”
“Please let us like you without all the walls.”
Radia grumbled.
Then she pivoted the conversation, as if recalling where they’d left off.
“So Professor Prezel really did contract with a demon and turn into one. She was the insider behind the practical disaster and the magic tower contamination, too.”
“Yeah. That’s why I came here—to warn you there might be more insiders lurking. And right in the middle of that…”
“You spotted Elin royally screwing things up?”
Since when had Radia gotten so good at reading my mind?
“Not even close. The imperial princess is enrolling at the academy soon. If our enemies are scheming anything, now’s the perfect window.”
Radia gave me a look that said *as if I didn’t know*.
“You want me to look into it.”
“Handle it on your own if you can. Just don’t let it put your safety at risk.”
“Got it.”
Unlike Elin, Radia was wise and sharp. She never let emotions sweep her away.
I could trust her with this.
“Did Elin tell you about the heretical mages targeting purity and infiltrating the academy?”
“I heard that part.”
“What about Elise?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded firmly.
“No point telling you not to dig, since you won’t listen anyway.”
Radia gave an abashed smile.
I rubbed my forehead, feeling like I was staring down an irredeemable bundle of trouble.
Even in the original, the protagonists dug into the heretical mages like this and stumbled onto ending clues along the way—so I had no real grounds to stop them.
My one worry was just how insanely dangerous it all was.
I slid the documents I’d brought across to Radia.
“What’s this?”
“Guardianship papers.”
Even after I told her, she still looked lost, so she unfolded the stiff pages and pored over every word.
I watched her with concern.
So reliable one second, such a kid the next…
“Even if you’re in danger, it’s tough for me to step in directly.”
Radia nodded reluctantly.
“Right. You’re the Empire’s Sword. You need over half the approval from His Majesty the Emperor and the ministers before you can move.”
“Sure, how many people would dare complain if I just said I’m unsheathing my blade—but yeah, that’s the procedure.”
A walking natural disaster. A mobile asymmetric weapon. And in human form, to boot—no inhibitors or restraints in existence.
Try to restrain it, and that weapon’s edge turns on you in a heartbeat.
‘Which is why masters so often end up as heads of state themselves…’
Not if it means stacking mountains of corpses. Hard pass.
Radia let out a wry chuckle.
Silent assent, in lieu of words.
“That’s why I can’t meddle in every little thing.”
“Yeah.”
“Even if it’s you kids in danger.”
“…….”
I pushed the guardianship papers toward Radia once more.
“This is… my justification to step in if you ever find yourselves in danger.”
My eyes gleamed.
No matter how we see this relationship—me and my students—to outsiders, we’re just a professor and some random pupils.
If I butt in, they’ll latch on: *Just for a few students?*
‘They’d get treated like mere students, nothing more.’
No good.
“If you become my wards, then anytime. Anywhere. No matter the threat.”
I locked eyes with Radia and gave my word.
“I’ll come for you.”
Radia held my gaze for a long moment, words failing her as she bit her lip.
But her trembling eyes spoke all the words she couldn’t voice aloud.