Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Looking at how Arnold was rather unharmed, yet surrendered without putting on much of a fight. 

Keith's claws dug deep on the ground, growling, as the pain and sorrow was too much for him to speak.

Though, as powerful as he was, he didn't want to go through the deeds enough to dirty his hands.

Ever since Mystique's tragedy, he has changed. Even hearing him so graceful and honorable enough to give up all of his assets and properties as her sole daughter's utmost recovery was paramount.

Arnold lived a quiet lifestyle, slipping out and away from the other noble affairs while still upholding his responsibilities as the protector of the north.

Even after she recovered through a miracle, Arnold still kept his word, regardless of the unknown benefactor. The news was no longer a secret, and perhaps living the rest of his life to a better outlook in life was much better than all the prestige.

To think they were still who opposed him and took the opportunity for slander and their audacity to sully the reputation of the Grand Duke was intolerable.

Now, all that Keith ever thought of was enough to shred them to pieces. But that would only worsen the situation if he acted without any preparation.

Arnold uttered, looking at them with no fear. "We're still a distance away from the ritual..."

They looked at each other, and the silence didn't last long, when one of them asked, "Where would that be?"

He then pointed at the hillside, with an array of trees becoming fewer as the slope went higher and higher. The knights sucked in a cold breath, eyes gawking at the deathly path they had to march.

"Very well, then. Go!"

Arnold still had a keen gaze, now looking ahead of him as he walked and took time with his steps going up. He held on to the facade as much as he could with the weight that dragged from the chains on his feet with the rest of the soldiers.

They let out indistinct groans and grunts, but they never gave up, with the man leading them at the front.

Meanwhile, Keith could only move so much, lest the dark-robed men would end up discovering him. Their presence, despite being veiled under the cloaks, was no laughing matter and didn't intend to treat it so lightly.

He observed for a little while, but he couldn't stand and watch all of them—even the fellow knights behind were cuffed, and trudged towards the open slope—as he needed to do something. 

With a rough plan he had, he crouched a little for a quick sprint. However, she grabbed one of his limbs while shaking her head.

'I need to create a diversion…'

Luckily, she snapped out of it as the smartphone trembled in his hands, lighting up, and she took a read. 

Afterwhich, she showed him through it once again. There, he glued at every word found on the boxes while mumbling inaudibly.

'We hadn't seen the roc so far... Glad you sent a message here... We're on our way….'

He took a glimpse at her; somehow, the artifact proved an efficient form of communication far better than the animal couriers and human messengers when it came down to a long distance.

Through this, information was quick, easy, and safe.

Yet his relief of the reinforcement cut short as he read with widened eyes.

'His Highness, Athan, became livid from Sylvester's hidden ploy at Arnold over there, though well-taken care of under Marianne's request...'

In turn, Keith snapped his head at Mystique, and she understood his concerns very well even without saying a word.

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'Marianne, suddenly, became unwilling to take part of it… If something happened to Sylvester while trying to convince it was all but a misunderstanding…'

While there was a high possibility of Sylvester creating a ruckus, and being the one to blame, Mystique didn't believe it at all.

[They must've known something else…]

"But not once was it shown that Her Highness, Veronica, was the one pulling the strings."

[She knows how to act; even if—]

The blizzard howled, haunting their ears with a screech as the frigid wind blew their faces ever-so-harshly.

In the distance, where it was now a barren slope, had a sudden disturbance—the layer of snow almost blended in with the stormy blizzard skies—suddenly rumbled, and the snowpack tumbled in front of them. 

'An avalanche!' 

Going bigger and stronger, amassed into a giant wave of frost, and the knights clamored. Most of them shouted, bracing from the impact, while the rest wanted to run for their lives. 

"Preposterous! This is a trap! You set this up!"

"His Majesty will soon hear your wrongdoings! You must be punished—"

After all their dissent and ceaseless blames, Arnold cleared his throat. "Do you want me to clear this?"

"Do it!"

However, Arnold then stared at it. Upon opening his grimoire, he flipped through the page, and a strong wind blew against the tide. A rumbling clap erupted in that moment's clash, and a flurry of snow obscured everything in sight.

'No! Your Grace!' Keith scooped Mystique, perching on his back, and dashed forth. 

He bolted towards the last line of the spruce before meeting the barren hillside, when the clouds of white dust swirled into a giant ball, over Arnold's fingertips, then became another mound to the side.

Everyone was safe through his good graces. The knights wanted to cheer aloud, but the Grand Duke of Blackwell hushed them.

Somehow, a part of the burden in Keith's chest lifted as Arnold had yet to give up even after reaching this far.

'But, does His Grace have a plan—?' He was astonished when Arnold glanced at him in subtlety.

He was calmer than ever—undoubtedly the scariest side of him. Even murmuring with his mouth almost closed, still caught his ears.

Keith mumbled, "Take care of My Mysti…" Then, he peered at Mystique, gasping just as well. "My Lady…".

Arnold bellowed, "You want me to renege it? Might as well witness how the pact is reformed!"

But before things would've turned out quiet and got them complacent. A dark, cloudy silhouette of a snake took form amidst the chaotic sky.

Mystique became petrified, and he knew that she was on the verge of a mental breakdown when she turned no different from a cold statue.

"My Lady?"

[It's still the 15th of March…So early, but...] She clasped her hands, trembling.

Her tears fell, then froze halfway through her cheek as she huffed out, "I realize now..."