Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

It's been days since they took flight, and it wasn't easy.

But as soon as his face grazed with snowflakes, he knew they were about to enter the northern territory. The tip of his nose began to burn; he had to take out several layers of cloth to wrap himself.

Within Athan's pouch had several items and money he needed for the long journey. Hopping from place to place to get what he needed. It was a daunting task, in which he even had to bring this stubborn familiar with him for a better ride.

If not for the alluring gemstones and gold as a reward, it would be hard to negotiate.

"Why do we have to go through this? You could've asked the almighty emperor for such help." Nero groaned, snapping Athan out of his train of thoughts.

"Fool! You think I didn't? It was the only one he hesitated out of the conditions I had throughout the proposal. Now, I'm on my own with this."

Athan expected more or less of the result from the overall proposal.

He knew his father had reservations, despite keeping up with the facade. Even he had a hard time believing so, not until he had to wake up from the harsh reality.

The future was bleak.

The revelation, simply, was hard to forget.

For that man opened the vulnerable gates within the Dynosmia Empire, eating more than half of the territory in a decade.

Arnold remained steadfast and focused on his goals: to improve the empire. Despite the loss of his wife and two sons from an incurable disease and the recent continental war, respectively.

Arnold could've asked for help numerous times, but knowing the kind of person Lawrence was—selfish but committed to the continuity of the legacy—but he didn't do so.

It was the only time he asked.

Even the stoic man, growing up colder than ever as time passed, has an outburst of raw emotions that could shift the whole motivation and goal in life just from major setbacks and unprecedented events.

Like it was retribution.

Deep regret loomed his heart, though always toppled with anguish, for his wrongdoings. Somehow, later on, he learned that it was all because of his daughter.

'Mystique Blackwell…'

Her name was on a replay in his mind.

Only then was it too late for him to know when Mystique came, not as the villain that would continue to bring them to ruination, but as the messiah.

But this was a new timeline for him. For whatever reason, he knew he had to make some changes.

All he could hope was that it doesn't divert to a point where it was out of his favor. He did it once, and he would do it again.

Now that he knew what happened in the future, he would steal the opportunity.

"So, how do you intend to stop him?" Nero queried; his ears perked up as they saw the peculiar location that Athan described several miles away.

"I have an idea, but I have to know the situation first."

While it's true he somehow withheld the information for his sake, right off the bat, he got confused to hear a piece of news.

Knowing Mystique woke up, and even had a similar case from his to boot, he ought to act with great caution.

However, right now, Athan knew nothing as to how she could turn out to be, for better or worse.

He wanted to believe in the truth that he had for Mystique, and it was all for the empire. Since she could go such lengths with her craziness, perhaps nipping the bud would be the best action.

It was a race against time.

He squinted his eyes, not because of the snowstorm that slammed his face, but from the decent manor, with every window revealed a beam of light.

'Melbourne Manor.'

To him, it was weird enough to know how vibrant it was from the inside despite how late it was at night—past midnight. It wasn't comparable to other houses that sprawled within the territory, lights on.

He peered at the ground—filled with white patches and streaks of brown that branched out like different directions.

If they were like a sea of stars in the milky night, Iris's Manor shone the brightest.

Although he had to brush it off, he would learn onwards only through getting information from Iris.

After Nero flapped his wings as he slowly landed with grace, just several feet away from the manor. After which, Athan slid out of the leather saddle and glanced at him.

"Wait for me here, alright—?"

"No way, I'm hungry—"

"Five gold ingots." Athan raised his palms while gritting his teeth.

"Understandable, have a nice day." Nero sprawled on the ground as he owned it while wagging his tail.

Athan almost had his blood boil from his high demands, but he had no choice but to endure them.

He then transformed into a cloud of smoke, prowling amidst the row of winter trees—a cluster of naked branches adorned with snow piles.

Reaching the snow-filled front porch, he slowly transformed. He dusted off his robe. The nearby window shone so brightly to the left but wasn't blinding for him as the frost covered the glass.

'Need to heat this up.' Through his palms, the ice melted, revealing a fraction of vision inside.

He leaned further, and he couldn't help but arched his eyebrows; seeing Iris, in all smiles, greeting her parents is also a surprised look. This time, he ought to use his racial talent.

A scroll unfurled from Iris's hand—her parents carefully read what it was and then jumped in joy, screaming on top of their lungs.

"...Oh, a plot of land?" Athan mused. "Indeed, quite suspicious."

This made him rub his chiseled jawline, pondering through his thoughts, 'Is that why she is here? Shouldn't she serve Mystique closely? Perhaps, I'm missing something—'

For the same parchment glimmered a golden light, even Athan could feel such warmth, almost catching him off guard.

But what happened before his eyes caused his heart to almost jump out of his chest.

It didn't take long to reveal a cold blast, freezing their bodies to ice scripture.

Athan wanted to save them, but it was too late.

In a blink of an eye…

They were gone.

A similar scene about how Mystique killed Matthew's little sister.