Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

For quite some time, Athan leaned against the bark of one of the lush green trees while glaring at the distance of the structure's familiar outline. The elaborate beaming spires and rooftops that toppled several floors and in front laid down a decorative garden and lawn with fountains—seen from such distance. 

The breeze that went adrift had brushed past the foliage and to his clothes and hair, fluttering them, and the orchestral sounds of the crickets didn't faze him.

His ears caught the muffled footsteps behind him, but he wasn't terrified when he already recognized who it was then.

"Thank you for helping me out on this."

Soon as Sylvester emerged from the thickets of the woods, his baggy cloak rustled through the shrubs and halted when he was several inches away from him. Beneath his disguise was his outfit in a leather coat, protective greaves and bracers, and fitted trousers to match his outdoor activity. 

Mystique's awakening, to him, was an ill-omen, and there was nothing to celebrate.

However, as much as he wanted to tell him, it wasn't the right time yet.

"You can count on me," he muttered; his gaze was somewhat hostile, but it was pretty much understandable for him. 

"You won't stay here for long, right?"

"  I'm a busy man; I don't fool around with ladies as much as you do," he scoffed at him. One more glance from the manor's direction before he clicked his tongue. "Now that my job is done here…"

Sylvester's aquamarine eyes gleamed.

With that as a cue, Sylvester slowly shapeshifted, from a dim glow of his human silhouette changed to a large wolf, almost double his human size. With a sniff from his gray snout and a wag on his flax-colored fur tail, he growled.

A growl that transmitted telepathic thoughts to Athan.

[I shall take my leave.]

"Alright."

Shortly after, the wind blew, and the leaves danced among themselves with such a soft sound, and before he looked back, his best friend was gone.

He was gone with the wind, as he would've thought.

Ever since that incident at the bedroom in the abode, there was no way Athan could glance at Sylvester, for the latter held such resemblance to Marianne, aside from their hair and eyes—but most especially their defined cheekbone and aquiline nose.

He couldn't help but in retrospect as the odd sensation that coursed through his heart the moment her frail body crashed into him. With his lean muscles tightened and in full restraint, as not to crush her in his quick embrace, he couldn't help but be in awe for the deep contrast on her blessed and slender physique.

Their faces, with one, looked a tad amused, and with a beet-red hue that flushed all over the body on the other, got too close akin to a hair's breadth.

'She had already aged like a wine; that lady grew so fine…' he groaned through clenched jaws, couldn't help but recall the fresh memories.

After all, she was one of the few women that he has yet to be with but had never done it for a lot of reasons as it was all in good faith and good conscience.

Though he tried to resist, despite almost showering the signs of throwing herself at him, a simple catch and pulled himself right away after helping her balance was enough to show that he wasn't interested but merely showed the chivalrous man that he was…

Nothing good would be the outcome if they go further than that.

A swell of guilt bloomed and constricted his chest from the wave of guilt that swept him for a while, causing him to reflect on his thoughts about taking advantage of her in some way.

'For my own benefit and at her expense; can't believe I'm this much of a hypocrite..." He propped his fingertips on his temple, kneading ceaselessly.

To him, there was no choice but to go the route of lesser evil if it meant he had to achieve the ultimate goal that would explode in the future.

Afterward, he was overlooking it as he stood by the edge of the Twilight Forest, a magical forest with amicable creatures that dwelled within it.

Amidst the green pastures that stretched to the horizon by several rolls found a gigantic manor, almost a quarter of the size of Starbrooke Castle, that oozed with vibrancy and bright colors.

His eyes shut down as it was torture for him, such bright colors—white and mint—were not his cup of tea. 

People began to wonder how he wasn't fond of such aesthetics, but it was different when it came to Mystique's special place; but after visiting so often, he already had endured a few of the bright colors that ranged from blue to indigo in Starbrooke Castle, and it would've gotten worse for him if there was no eternal snowstorm that cast a dim glow unto the northern territory.

Not that he was too interested nor invested in doing the same thing again, but this was different.

For the man that resided in that manor owned the largest auction held in the Imperial Capital, and the item he needed 

Perhaps the place reflected off such radiance from the gleaming stones and ice that adorned the castle.

'The Manor of Marquis Edelweiss…' After staring, he gave up with a light groan that escaped his lips as he scrunched his forehead from such painful color.

He already had a concrete plot and schedule laid on his secret chamber in his abode; not even Nero, as his familiar, knew about it.

It was that confidential, but knowing how Mystique gifted the same blessings as him, and too selfish at that, he knew he had to take his chances.

One of the news he received from Sylvester was Mystique's visit to the Edelweiss Manor, the perpetrator of the said earlier schedule of the supposed date for the auction event.

Never did he think that he would come to visit—probably more often than in his previous life. Right now, he was determined to take advantage of what Mystique had known for so long and would be the one to take the credit.

But there was one major problem; it was rather too early.

Athan wasn't foreign with the butterfly effect, which is why he ought to be careful of his actions that would lead to dire consequences. 

He waited and waited until he gaped at the distance with Mystique strutting to the front lawn.

With her face fuming in anger….

Though a smirk plastered on his face.

"Did she fail?"