How the Terminally Ill Villain Saves the Heroine (1)

"Cough—!"

The instant my eyes opened, I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it was already too late. Thick black blood poured between my fingers. As I watched the luxurious silk sheets soak through with vivid crimson, reality slowly sank in.

Until yesterday I had been a shut-in playing games in my room. Now I had transmigrated into Demian—the villain from the dark fantasy game Academy's Ruin. And of all people, it had to be the terminally ill one.

The fatal curse that should have slowly devoured the main heroine Seria over three years until it killed her. Right after I possessed this body, I had ignored the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠System’s frantic warnings and taken the curse into myself instead. I simply couldn’t watch my favorite character—the one I had only ever seen through a screen—shed bloody tears and break apart right in front of me.

"Haa… haa…"

It felt as if broken glass was shredding my insides. As if mocking me, another system window floated up.

In short, if I wanted to live, I had to become a complete son of a bitch. Until the day Seria grew into a hero and saved the world, I would have to be the stepping stone she trampled beneath her feet.

"……How ridiculous."

Demian. He was the villain I had hated most throughout the entire game. A disposable piece of trash who crushed the weak, abused the heroines, and in the latter half was miserably cut down by Seria’s sword and killed.

Yet I had woken up inside that bastard’s body, carrying the very curse that was supposed to kill the woman he should have murdered. Fate really knew how to screw someone over.

I roughly wiped my mouth and stepped into the corridor, only to lock eyes with someone directly ahead. Silver hair and pitch-black eyes. It was Seria Cromwell—the main heroine I had subjected to every kind of abuse.

She didn’t bother hiding her desire to kill me.

I wanted to drop to my knees and apologize to my favorite character right then and there, but—

Pain tight enough to crush my heart seized my chest. I forcibly twisted my facial muscles into the obnoxious sneer Demian always wore.

"I thought a bug was crawling across the floor. So it was you, Seria?"

Even to my own ears it was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠voice of a disgusting piece of trash. Seria’s face crumpled instantly. The way she panted, desperately shoving down the murderous intent boiling up inside her, was almost pitiful.

"Move. The stench might get on me."

I deliberately slammed my shoulder into hers as I passed, ignoring the killing intent boring into my back, and turned the corner. The moment I was completely out of sight—

"Ugh—! Cough, hack!"

I braced against the wall and collapsed, finally vomiting up a thick clot of blood. My vision went black.

Haa… fuck… how long can I keep this up?

I wiped my blood-smeared lips with my sleeve. The sheer absurdity of my situation was so ridiculous that a dry, bitter laugh slipped out.

The villain destined to die by Seria’s hand in the game was instead dying in her place, coughing his lungs out. What kind of fucked-up comedy was this?

At the same time, in the corridor where Demian had vanished.

Seria, still biting her lip in rage, suddenly froze as her gaze dropped to the floor.

"…Huh?"

Drops of blood were scattered across the white marble. When she carefully brushed a finger across one, it still held faint warmth.

Just moments ago the only people in this hallway had been herself and Demian.

Why…?

The young duke of the continent’s greatest black-magic family. A sadist who reveled in others’ pain. For someone like that to be secretly coughing up blood?

There had been no signs of an attack, no rumors of any chronic illness. Seria recalled the past several months—the man who had trampled her at every opportunity, insulted her, mocked her like a bug. Every cruel act was still vivid, yet the bloodstains at her feet contradicted all of it.

Suddenly she remembered his deathly pale face as he had shoved past her. His breathing had been strangely labored, and the shoulder she had collided with had been trembling, frail and thin.

"……No. That can’t be right."

Seria shook her head violently and wiped the blood from her fingertips onto her clothes with nervous swipes. But that red stain had already planted an indelible seed of doubt deep inside the solid wall of her hatred.

Luminas Academy, Great Hall.

The moment I stepped inside, the noisy chatter died as if someone had dumped ice water over the crowd. Ignoring the naked hostility from every direction, I headed for the VIP seats—then spotted Seria standing below the dais.

Instantly a translucent warning window appeared.

Of course it starts with terrorism right from the entrance ceremony.

The massive chandelier above the dais was already glowing with ominous red light. If Seria was caught in that explosion, her mana core would be completely shattered. I had to save her.

But if I heroically pulled her into my arms and dodged, the penalty for damaging the ending would stop my heart on the spot. So how could I save her without triggering it? I couldn’t act like a hero. The only option left was to be a thorough bastard and shove her away.

"How dare a lowly insect block my path!"

I raised my mana and roared. Every eye in the hall snapped toward me.

"Demian…? What are you—"

Before she could finish, I unleashed a brutal wave of black magic.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

BOOM—!!

"Kyaaaaak!"

Seria screamed as the direct hit sent her flying more than ten meters backward.

"He’s insane! Using attack magic on entrance ceremony day—!"

She glared up at me from the floor, groaning in pain. The fury in her eyes was something I had never seen before.

"Ugh… you son of a bitch…!"

I looked down at her and jerked my chin arrogantly.

"Know your place. I told you not to linger in my sight."

The moment Seria staggered and reached for her sword—

BOOOOOOOM—!!!

A colossal pillar of flame erupted exactly where she had been standing seconds earlier. The chandelier shattered, and flames hot enough to melt stone flooded the floor.

"Fire! Everyone evacuate—!!"

The Great Hall descended into chaos. I stared down at Seria, who had frozen in shock, and mouthed the words so only she could see.

Survive.

Then I flicked my cloak and vanished calmly into the panicked crowd.

Having forced so much mana out at once, my organs felt like they were being wrung dry. The instant I collapsed into a deserted corner of the hallway, I vomited everything I had been holding back.

Even through the pain that felt like my lungs were tearing apart, I pictured Seria safely alive and managed a faint, blood-stained smile.

At the same time, inside the pandemonium of the Great Hall.

Seria sat on the ground, staring blankly at the melted crater inches from her face. If Demian had not attacked her, that would have been where she stood. The spot she had been blasted to was miraculously the only safe zone the explosion had not reached.

"By the gods! One step forward and you would have been ashes. That mad dog’s whim saved you. A miracle, truly a miracle!"

The professor who had rushed over clutched his chest in relief, but none of his words registered. Miracle? Whim? No.

It had not been coincidence.

With a trembling hand she touched her abdomen. She had taken a direct hit from black magic, yet her mana core was completely intact; only her outer robe was slightly scorched. The shockwave had been precisely calculated to hurl her into the one safe zone.

And in the instant the flames had surged, though the roar had swallowed all sound, she had clearly read the shape of his lips as he looked down at her.

Survive.

"Ah……"

A sigh slipped from her lips. Words that could never have come from the demon who had treated her like a bug and abused her. Yet the fingertips that had shoved her away had been trembling, cold as a dying man’s.

If the fierce hatred and contempt he had always shown her had actually been an act to protect her… If he had been hiding something, secretly coughing up blood alone every night…

"Demian… where did Demian go?"

There was no longer any murderous intent in her eyes. Only uncontrollable confusion and a strange, growing thirst swirled inside them.

Old Building, dilapidated bathroom.

"Uweeegh—! Cough!"

I clung to the sink and emptied my stomach. The pure white porcelain was instantly ruined. My legs gave out and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

A scene from the game suddenly flashed through my mind—the ending where Seria, eroded by the curse over three years, lost all color in her face, could no longer even lift her sword, and finally collapsed. No matter how many times I had replayed it, I could never change that tragic death. Now I was bearing it in her place.

"Haha……"

Sprawled on the floor, I laughed hollowly. The price of protecting Seria’s core had been only fifteen days.

It was fucking cheap…

I wiped my blood-stained mouth and slowly closed my eyes. I was going to die anyway. As long as she was safe, that was enough. She would continue to hate me as a terrible demon. Yes, that was all that mattered.

…I had no idea.

That in the heart of the girl left alone in the Great Hall, a terrible misunderstanding and a mad, obsessive thirst had just begun to take root.