Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

When Athan sensed a sudden prod in his left hip, he then snapped his eyes wide open. His body jolted upright, and noticed his disheveled sleeves—in which the large patch of bruise disappeared—he cracked his neck from side to side with the sudden relief.

"Finally, you're awake…." Nero purred in a groggy tone.

At that point, his pointed ears perked up and frowned in his direction.

"Must've slept in peace for eons, huh?"

"... Here we go again…" Nero mumbled, his eyes drooped as though he wasn't much interested in their conversation.

"Just answer, was it successful?"

"Yeah—No…"

"What?"

"Perhaps you could've toned it down—your arrogance that is..." Nero, in his small feline figure, curled on the bed with eyes closed.

Athan had his blood within him boiled in rage once more, and his gaze landed at him; if looks could kill, then more than enough could be said for Nero's case.

"I could never…." Nero sighed, rested his chin back to the soft mattress. "She's scary…" Then his jagged, crystalline body began to flinch like rumbles when his furs stood; his ends weren't enough to describe the horror he had.

In the end, he couldn't help but sigh in defeat. He had yet to know what happened to him, but it seemed like putting himself in a sleeping spell traumatized him.

"Perhaps if you were more cooperative in this mission—"

"I did my best, alright?" His majestic stone horns twitched for a while before he puffed out his misty breath.

But his frustration subsided rather quickly when he started to notice his dull reactions like he wasn't giving a damn about his qualms.

"What's happening to you?"

Sudden gleams appeared in his eyes as he tried to detect his vital signs, but there wasn't much of a problem. However, his instinct begged to differ when his mouth had a burbling sound along with a mouthful of foam.

His eyes gleam bright and out of it in such interval.

Afterwhich, Nero's body began to convulse.

The same emotions crept to his skin and sent sparks all over him.

Memories of the dead surged him, and one that had signs of Nero's end was still fresh in his mind.

'No! No! This can't be it!' His hands began to tremble, scooping the poor familiar in his arms while he looked around for the bell. 'I need help!'

When his gaze landed on the golden bell on one of the four posts on the bed, he pulled hard and rough, causing a jarring chime that quaked the chamber.

Series of knocks rang, to the door's direction, which had him calling on top of his lungs, "You may enter!"

It wasn't a surprise to him that it was the head butler, Johannes, that came into his chamber. He then asked for Athan's queries when he started to notice Nero in such a poor state.

"Are there any noble physicians here?!"

"Y—Your Highness." Johannes clasped his hands, not to get giddy with the situation. "We don't have such specifications that cater this—"

"Then find me one! Hurry!"

Out of desperation, his anger rose and barked at him.

The head butler was stumped from his urgency. "I shall do my best!" While he scratched his head and scurried out of the chamber.

"Nero…" Athan shook Nero in his arms, tapping the body with hopes to take the pain away. "This, too, shall pass, right?" he croaked.

Pleas became his mantra as he looked around, trying to find a way. The clocked tick and the shed of grace were all the more beyond his reach.

The vision he had suddenly became too blurry as tears glistened his eyes.

'God damn this!' Athan could curse for as much as he could, unable to believe that this timeline could've made things worse for him. All he wanted was for Nero to live longer than his past time, not shorten.

Unbeknownst to him, a series of sharp beats clacked across the polished floor—which became stronger and louder—and took a stop by the doorway.

[Good grief.] Mystique touched her temple as she sighed from what happened in front of her.

"You…" Athan's eyes went bloodshot, bearing his fangs at her. "I have no time for your mischievous acts."

[Impertinent! I'm doing you a favor, so be grateful.] Mystique drew close to him. On bended knee, her fingers graze over his vulnerable, jolting belly.

His face had been skeptical with her response and action; it made him wonder why she would do it.

Like it wasn't her, yet again his preconceived notions remained that somehow her inner self changed and might be for the best.

Before he got lost in his thoughts with such assumptions, she gulped hard and looked at him, dead in the eyes.

[Can you force him to transform?]

With her question grabbed her by the arm, so strong that she moaned in pain. She tried to remove his firm grip, but she failed to do so.

[L—Let go of me—!]

"Do you take me for a fool?! You know this is my familiar, and yet you dare pray for a quicker death?!"

Forcing the transformation of its original size meant consuming a part of the current life force reserves, and his mind immediately went disarray when she thought of such a suicidal attempt.

'This nasty witch still has her psychotic tendencies!' Withal, he gripped her arm and almost had her shriek.

"No! Not that I mean—You're hurting me..." she whispered despite her hitched voice stifling the silence in the chamber.

[Your life]

Athan immediately let go of her hold as he then realized what she wanted to do.

'Is she aware of the repercussions of doing so?'

[I know what you're thinking. I shall act as a medium. Hurry!]

"You!" Athan huffed and drew close his face near Mystique, leaving a gap by a hair's breadth. "You do know what happens when vampires' life force is in a dire state?"

It was only to scare her, but she was a lot determined this time.

Mystique had a hard time swallowing, as seen in her slender neck, which he couldn't help but took a glimpse of, licking his lips.

Athan knew he would gain such benefits and a disadvantage in her charades; after what she did and outplayed him earlier, he was dubious upon what she could gain from this.

"Prepare yourself after this, Violette. I shall make you regret it for the rest of the night."