Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Ever since they left the undercroft, Keith stole a glance at Nathan from how he kept up his pace faster than ever, with a grim look on his face. Yet his curiosity could only go so far, for he was in no position to ask of him.

Somehow, he suddenly had palpitations, as his gut seemed to drop from the crazy train of thoughts that crashed into his mind.

Upon reaching Mystique's bed-chamber, he knocked in such a hurry, then opened the door. 

"My Lady—"

To his sight greeted Mystique, whose face painted with strokes of pitch-black and patches of goo splattered onto her face while wearing a robe that was now smeared with ash and charcoal. 

With this, Keith seemed deep-rooted in his stead. Stunned from what happened to her—and fortunately enough, there neither were any gashes, burns, nor wounds etched against her alabaster skin. 

"Keith? You're here?" She muttered, but her voice went hoarse, almost too breathy.

She was already walking, no different from a zombie. Her trails had goo and dark blots while waving her hands around

Even her hair was all frizzy, as though she got hit by lightning.

"What on earth happened to you?" Nathan then walked close to her, but Keith sprinted to her way as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her face.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the handkerchief and wiped it off her face.

[Thank you—] But then by the end of the letter scribbled in midair suddenly went to a flicker before it dimmed into nothingness.

'She's using too much of her power!'

Keith, upon witnessing it, snarled under his breath. His blood boiled as the dark circles in her eyes turned rather saggy and weary. They found not even an ounce of glow on her skin, even after wiping all the mess on her face.

'This is a lot… No cloth could get rid of this much.' 

Without her permission, he reached out to her, and through his palms let out a frosty mist, and the goo on her skin hardened before it peeled off after a few seconds.

Cracks branching out after distinct cracks now revealed her dry, reddish skin, but it was all worth it as it became a burden for her.

On the other hand, Nathan stood from the side, quietly observing them. After which, he then asked, "Where's your phone?"

She gestured her hands, despite preoccupied herself from wiping off her face to better cleanliness, she seemed to point at the window, but there was no hole made from the claims.

"Not the windows…"

Mystique waved off her hand aggressively, like to dismiss his words, as she pointed to the corner of the bedroom. 

"Seriously, you need help…" Nathan shook his head with a click on his tongue as he reached for his phone for her to type. "Type it here..."

However, Keith knew what was up so he stood upright, after helping her remove the sudden discomfort around her, saying, "I'll go get it."

Although he had to be careful as the floor almost gushed out with such a sticky flow, using his magic to freeze them was too much and was never worth it.

With swiftness, he brisked and skipped to the dry spots of the floor amidst the slippery goo in it. 

But before he went inside the room, his ears perked up when he heard Nathan raised somewhat a concern.

"Are you serious? You let him? Was it locked—? Alright, okay…"

Then their voice muffled to an inaudible as he went in.

The smell was fragrant at first, but it came too strong he had to cover himself, wincing from an acute wave of nausea. 

Certainly, the room colored him by surprise, almost every nook, and cranny of the room coated with the slime of varying iridescent colors. The ceilings, so high, dripped and sagged like a crazy mess.

From the center found the enormous cauldron, still brimming with hot bubbles, fizzling out, and pouring more of the magical liquid until it hardened like a goo.

With no choice, he trudged his way to it, clenching his fist as he used so much strength to pull out every single time. The layers increased, and almost got worse that he had to freeze a path for him to slide.

Alas, the struggle ended as soon as he cooled it down and hardened within a couple of seconds.

'Where do I start looking for it?' Keith looked around, and the room transformed into something magical yet also highly induced drug. But this wasn't the time to slack off and prove himself to her.

'Must be at the table? No… Maybe at the counters—" The moment he set his gaze at the counter, the countertop had not a single essence of goo spared to it; with a closer look found the familiar smartphone, which she showed rather earlier.

Marveled, he couldn't help but think the goo avoided it at all costs from a thickly layered slime.

'I didn't think it was that hard…' Sighing, he tried to grab it with his fingertips; but suddenly, the spark crackled, surging into him with sharp pain.

Out of reflex, he moved away, hissing. Now, becoming cautious this time around as he took a glance at his fingers with a rich red bruise.

'What kind of artifact is this?' He gritted his teeth. Then again, he remembered that he mustn't fail this simple task at hand. 

With another try, he went for it.

Failed, this time it stung deep—almost touching a bitter frost, and then a round of ache came from its swell.

'Not this…Let me try again….'

For the third, he thought of the thick leather gloves, and took them out of his pouch and wore them well. 

He reached out to it. Eyes squinted, his breathing dropped as he gnashed his teeth harder as he got closer to it.

With a touch, nothing bad happened to him, in which a rejoice bloomed in his heart.

Although it became a hurdle when he tried to lift it. His forearm tensed with a streak of veins in it every time he tried moving it up. But he couldn't do so halfway as it fell on the floor, and the glue gave way to it.

Then, the phone beeped a sound.

For the first time in almost forever, he got confused, and at a loss for words when the imagery showed on the smartphone.

Turned out to be Mystique and the man beside him….

'Me?'