Awakening as the Doomed Villain
I woke up as the villain who was meant to die. In this academy, I was the villain destined to perish first. A third-rate villain who picks a fight with the protagonist, frames the saintess candidate, earns the princess's contempt, and falls to the knight lady's sword. That was the ending scripted for Kyle Diaren.
The problem was that I had opened my eyes in Kyle Diaren's body. And this morning, the first scene of that death route was about to begin.
The morning at Saint Ignis Academy was dazzling. White spires piercing the sky, blue gardens encircling the central plaza, family crests glittering on students' uniforms. Sunlight scattered softly across marble corridors, and the distant toll of bells reminded everyone that this was no ordinary school—it was the grand stage where the empire selected its future.
Aristocratic students walked that stage with natural ease. Some wore cloaks bearing the imperial knight order's insignia, others displayed the Magic Tower's star-shaped badges. Students of the Holy Church wore silver crosses over white uniforms, while those from the Knight Department carried their swords openly at their waists. Everyone seemed to know their role perfectly.
The problem was that I alone knew my role all too well. I was the name that had to exit this stage first—Kyle Diaren.
“Young Master Diaren, are you truly all right?”
The girl in a maid uniform asked with a worried expression. Her name was Marian—the last remaining servant of the Diaren household. In the original story, even after Kyle's downfall, she tried to collect his body only to be mocked by the noble students. Though a minor character, right now she was my most vital lifeline.
“I'm fine.”
“You fainted three times last night.”
“That's practically fine, isn't it?”
“It is absolutely not fine.”
Marian's voice grew firm. Her small, gentle face somehow became intimidating when she scolded her master. She replaced the damp cloth by the bed while studying my complexion. Her gaze held both familiar concern and unfamiliar wariness. She, too, could sense it—Kyle Diaren was different from yesterday.
I sat up in bed. A dull ache throbbed in the center of my chest. It wasn't only from the wound I'd received in the Rose Garden last night. This body—Kyle Diaren's mana circuit—was severely twisted. It was one of the reasons the original Kyle had become so violent. Unable to properly control his mana, he was constantly in pain and sought relief through alcohol and duels. As a reader, I'd thought, “He had his reasons,” but experiencing it firsthand was no joke. Simply breathing felt like shards of glass scraping the inside of my chest. Mana wasn't flowing—it was leaking. Everything inside me felt misaligned, as though impurities had mixed into my veins.
Fighting brilliantly like the protagonist was impossible with this body. Yet doing nothing meant dying exactly as scripted.
What an insane difficulty.
I laughed inwardly. If you're possessing someone, shouldn't you at least get a genius body, hidden talents, or some grand family secret? Instead, I'd received a broken mana circuit, the worst possible reputation, and a villain route that ended in death.
“It would be best if you skipped today's first combat training,” Marian said.
“And if I do?”
“You can submit a medical certificate to the professor. With the records from last night's Rose Garden incident and your injuries, it should be accepted.”
“And then the rumor will spread that Kyle Diaren got scared and ran away.”
Marian couldn't answer. The infamy the original Kyle had built was beyond imagination. If I showed even a moment of weakness, the noble students would tear into that opening—especially after last night's events. Though it had been confirmed that someone else was the culprit, I hadn't been completely cleared of suspicion. If anything, I was in greater danger now. Someone had tried to make me their scapegoat. As long as I remained alive and moving, they would come for me again.
I avoided the first event from the original story. But I missed the real culprit.
My goal was now clear: stay quiet, don't stand out, and don't die. If I could manage those three things, that would be enough.
I put on my uniform—the black combat department uniform with silver lines. Standing before the mirror, an unfamiliar face stared back. Pale skin, dark hair, sharp eyes. The face the original story had described as “unpleasantly handsome scoundrel.” If only his personality had been decent, he might have been quite popular. Actually, his appearance was excessively good-looking. That only made it worse. When a villain is handsome, readers resent him even more—along with comments about how he “doesn't live up to his face.”
“The face isn't bad, at least.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
I asked Marian several questions—about the current timeline, class schedule, my reputation, and the locations of key students. The results confirmed a despairing fact: I wasn't right after enrollment. Kyle Diaren had already mocked the princess's welcoming speech on the day of the entrance ceremony, challenged Siella Bayern to a duel at the Knight Department's banquet and lost, and even blackmailed two magic department students. In other words, his trash reputation was already complete.
“Why did he work so hard to ruin everything?”
“Young Master has been… having a difficult time lately.”
Marian's words trailed off. She had never hated the original Kyle. Even in the story, when everyone else condemned him, Marian alone remembered what kind of person he had been as a child. Perhaps the original owner of this body hadn't been a broken person from the start. A fallen family, a twisted mana circuit, the nobles' mockery, an environment where no one believed in him—those things must have piled up to create the Kyle of today.
That didn't erase the sins the original Kyle had committed, though. I had to survive by borrowing his name, carrying both his crimes and his reputation.
I let out a short sigh.
“Marian.”
“Yes.”
“From now on, if I try to do anything strange, stop me.”
“I have always tried to stop you.”
“Do it more forcefully.”
Marian blinked, then smiled faintly.
“Understood. If necessary, I will even resort to hitting you to stop you.”
“Save hitting as a last resort.”
“I will consider it.”
When I left the room, the students in the hallway all turned to stare. Whispers followed.
“That's him? From the Rose Garden incident last night…”
“I heard he survived in front of Her Highness the Princess.”
“Didn't the saintess candidate hold his hand?”
“That can't be right. Why would Lady Aria…?”
“Diaren must have pulled some trick again.”
As expected, rumors traveled fast. I didn't lower my head. Bowing would make me look weak. But acting arrogant would be no different from the original Kyle. So I walked with a blank expression, doing my best to appear thoughtless. In truth, I was tense enough to die.
It felt as though someone might draw a dagger from somewhere in the corridor, or an imperial knight might burst out from the stairs with an arrest warrant. The knowledge I possessed from the original story only revealed the broad flow—not who might stab me at any given moment.
But as I descended the central staircase, the person I least wanted to meet was waiting for me.
Red hair gleamed like flames in the sunlight. A white cloak draped over a black combat uniform. A sleek longsword at her waist. Siella Bayern. The daughter of the Bayern ducal house, renowned for its swords. Top candidate of the Knight Department. And the one who had publicly crushed Kyle in a duel in the original story.
She stood with arms crossed, glaring at me.
“Kyle Diaren.”
I swallowed a curse inwardly.
Why is there a boss fight first thing in the morning?
“Lady Bayern.”
Siella's eyebrow twitched. The original Kyle had probably called her by name without honorifics—perhaps even more rudely.
“Suddenly acting polite, are we?”
“Manners are important, after all.”
“Hearing that from your mouth makes my scabbard tremble.”
She certainly had a way with words. Siella took a step closer. The surrounding students held their breath. Her position in the Knight Department was absolute. For her to block my path, it was only natural that everyone watched with keen interest.
“There's a rumor going around that last night's incident wasn't your doing.”
“It's true.”
“Then let me ask—why did the saintess candidate hold your hand?”
The question had taken an odd turn. I fell silent for a moment.
“She simply grabbed the nearest hand because she was injured.”
“Does Aria Elowen seem like someone who would hold just anyone's hand?”
Siella's voice carried a subtle edge. It was too early to call it jealousy. She simply respected the saintess candidate, Aria. In the original story, the two became friends who shared a sense of justice. The fact that Aria had held the hand of the infamous Kyle didn't sit well with her.
“I don't know either.”
“You don't know?”
“Really. I want to ask her myself why she did it.”
Siella narrowed her eyes.
“It doesn't seem like a lie.”
“Does it look that way?”
“When you lie, you smile in a particularly unpleasant manner.”
Original Kyle—what kind of life had he lived?
Just then, a cold voice echoed from the end of the corridor.
“Since when did you develop a hobby of blocking people's paths in the morning, Lady Bayern?”
The students all turned at once. The silver-haired princess, Rhea Silverrian, was approaching. Wherever she passed, students stepped aside—not out of mere courtesy, but instinctive tension.
Rhea stopped beside me. She was standing far too close—nearly touching my shoulder. Siella's gaze sharpened slightly.
“Does Your Highness also have business with Kyle Diaren?”
“I do.”
“May I ask what that business is?”
“It's not something I need your permission for.”
The air grew chilly. Starting off like this from our first meeting was troublesome. Rhea and Siella often clashed in the original story as well, but they hadn't been this sharp so early on. It seemed my presence had disrupted the balance.
I spoke carefully.
“You'll both be late for class.”
Both pairs of eyes turned to me at once.
Why are the arrows pointing at me now?
Rhea spoke.
“Kyle, you're joining my group for today's combat training.”
“Excuse me?”
Siella reacted immediately.
“He's in the Knight Department. If it's combat training, it would be more appropriate to confirm it with my group.”
“He's also a witness to last night's incident. It needs to be verified at the imperial level.”
“Are you calling that an excuse?”
“Did it sound like one?”
Cold air and heat clashed between the two. I realized something.
Of my three goals—stay quiet, don't stand out, and don't die—at least two had already failed. And the remaining one, not dying, didn't seem guaranteed in today's class either.