Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Athan found himself unable to move freely against the stone pavement; he took a glance at Sylvester—who had it worse from all the setbacks he got just from this night alone.

But even if his body refused to act against his will, his ears quickly caught on their dialogue.

"Johannes! You better swear on your name for such claims!" Arnold threatened with clenched teeth, seemingly trying to control himself out of frustration. "Do you think I'd let you get away with this? How impertinent of you to utter words that would garner my attention."

"I dare not to cause derision in our already plight, Your Grand Ducal Highness. This is..." Johannes halted for a while, bearing silence between them but within his voice had already a tinge of hesitation. "I have received a signal from Keith—"

A sharp, loud crash—akin to a numerous glass shattered at once—assaulted their ears, causing Athan to take cover; later on, a grave chill crawled to his skin and made him shiver in the already cold night.

"You trust that mongrel, son of a whore, that much?!"

"I beg your pardon— but this isn't a sole claim. It—has already spread like wildfire within the Starbrooke Castle—and...—everyone's focus has been on it… If Your Grace would like to hear about this... "

"Give it to me!" Arnold interjected.

Within a subtle smack that crisped the air and a few rustles from here and there, Athan and Sylvester looked at each other, nodding, as though they thought alike. They drew their ears closer to the thickets of hedgerow, but it was still inaudible.

Even with their enhanced hearing traits didn't serve justice to the important information and concrete evidence that laid before them.

'God damn! This won't do,' he cursed inwardly, squinting his eyes and perked his ears, trying to pick up the signal.

He had been going on for a while, but it was almost at the end—crucial as it was to him.

[....Reporting to the Grand Duke of Blackwell, Her Grace, Lady of Blackwell, woke up—healthy and her usual demeanor...A strong beam of light—azure and teal color—enveloped the castle amidst the blizzard.]

"Beam of light—" Sylvester murmured, looking at the Crown Prince with the kind of familiarity.

'No! Something's wrong! This wasn't the case! Grand Duke Blackwell would still have to beg for few more days before he starts to leave'

Athan couldn't stand looking at Sylvester's aquamarine eyes, that gaped out of horror, and glared at the grassy terrain on his feet.

When Athan get what he meant, the two of them breathed in sharply.

'No way! It can't be! Could it be, Mystique is—?'

He cut off his train of thoughts when his left arm pricked with intense gaze and killing intent.

"It seems that rats sneaked in here. Johannes, prepare for my immediate return, NOW!"

"Run!" Sylvester tugged his arm, and ran as fast as they could.

Never did Athan think the primal fears that he once lost for good had come back and drained every ounce of him to escape for his safety. His sight turned rather vague as the towering leaves became like streams of green that flashed before his eyes, his breath hitched every step he took.

Steps that bore more momentum than before, such faster and larger strides that rustled the uncut grass and went abuzz in their ears.

The area was already beyond access for most nobles, even the royalties are somehow restricted as they should never go too far for no apparent reason, yet they dared to tread the path with ease.

Moreover, they found themselves running away as someone had also got them, and one of the leaders for the opposite faction of the Royals, to boot.

Although Athan knew a part of him wanted to stop, crawling to him that there was something he ought to do at the moment's notice. This had him drag Sylvester, almost tripping him on the ground.

"What now, Del?"

"We've run far enough, Matthew. I need you to do me a favor..."

"You're still thinking of killing him?"

"No," he mumbled, shaking his head. It was somehow a relief to his best friend with his leers and tensed jawline. "Listen to me first; not yet. Just not at this moment. Something's lacking, just trust my instincts."

Sylvester kneaded while he groaned from his stubborn ideas, like he couldn't believe the words he heard right now. "I think I'm crazy enough to back out for all of the insane ideas you have thought that we all found impossible. Time and time, you've proven it. Let's hear it out."

Athan sighed in relief; he was forever grateful to this man for he had been with him for all his endeavors, most especially the times where no one believed in him and his crazy ideas. It was a rough start—to see is to believe, after all—but soon as he proved a prediction, then numerous times, there was no turning back.

"I need you to distract the Grand Duke for as long as you can. Also, don't get caught. Am I clear?"

"...Fine, you have my word. Don't make a fool out of yourself, as well."

"Don't worry; I surely won't make a mistake this time around."

"I know you will." Sylvester crossed his arms. "I thought I had failed at concocting that essence and gave it to you…"

"No, everything was already in the right place…" Athan scrunched his forehead, drawing a single line on his soft-angled eyebrows. "Something popped up out of nowhere…"

"The pillar of light got me intruiged, almost as though it's the same as your case in the west wing of the Imperial Palace—"

"I know what you're trying to say," Athan cut him off, giving a dismissive wave of hand. "We still can't be so sure. I shall check Iris for further announcement. So, Matthew, until then..."

"Don't worry, I'm somehow getting the gist. I'll do what I can. It would be terrifying if its even worse of Mystique we would go against this time around."

The two bid farewell and moved in separate ways rather quickly. Most especially for him, there was no time to waste.

'If I'm brought back in this timeline, then there must be something wrong I needed to fix. But what could it be? And why is it Mystique, of all the evil people that walked through these lands?'