Maybe I really am a Villian Chapter 8: Party

While Asher slept peacefully,

In the Headmaster’s office,

Eldric sat behind his desk, fingers loosely interlocked, his expression calm yet unreadable.

Standing before him was a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to him—almost like a younger reflection.

Alfred, his only son.

The Head Professor of Aetherium Academy, a 4-star Immortal rank

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"What made you so interested in that child? He didn’t seem particularly special," Alfred asked, a faint crease of confusion on his brow.

Eldric’s lips curved into a subtle smile. "It’s only natural you wouldn’t understand. You still perceive the world through human senses."

Alfred frowned slightly. "And what exactly are human senses supposed to an?"

Eldric leaned back in his chair, gaze drifting for a mont as if recalling distant mories.

"Did you think I spent a century among beasts without learning anything from them?"

He continued, his tone steady yet layered with quiet depth, "Humans take natural mana, impose their will upon it, claim it as their own, and store it within their cores to strengthen their cultivation."

"But the beasts of the Grimwood Continent, those at Master rank and above, are different. They do not conquer mana—they understand it. They rge with nature itself. That is why their recovery is so absurd."

His voice grew softer, yet more profound. "And those at the Immortal and Saint ranks... they are no longer rely beings within the world. They beco a part of it. They can sense what humans cannot even begin to comprehend."

A brief pause followed before he added, "One such Saint-rank beast taught a similar thod—one that surpasses humans, yet still falls short of true beasts."

Alfred exhaled, his patience thinning. "So what exactly did you sense with this technique of yours?"

Eldric’s gaze returned to him, sharp and unwavering. "That is not sothing you need to know."

A faint smile touched his lips again. "Just rember this—the boy is special."

Alfred held his gaze for a mont longer, then looked away. He knew better than to press further. His father would not speak if he did not wish to.

He turned to leave

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"Who is currently in charge of Class S for the first years?" Eldric asked suddenly.

"Grandmaster Arwin," Alfred replied, glancing back in mild confusion

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"Replace him. Assign Elisa instead."

That made Alfred pause.

Elisa—a Peak Grandmaster. A prodigy who had mastered both fire and wind to the Master realm.

Placing soone like her in charge of first-years seed excessive.

But then he rembered who had been placed in Class S this year.

Understanding dawned.

"...Understood," he said, before leaving the room.

The door closed softly behind him.

For a mont, silence lingered.

Then Eldric’s expression darkened, the faint smile fading into sothing far more serious.

"I suppose... it’s ti I fulfill my end of the deal," he murmured.

Asher’s Room

8 PM

Two hours had passed since I woke up, and I had already unpacked everything.

Ti to get ready for the freshers’ party.

By the ti I finished, it was already 8:50 PM.

When I stepped out of my room, the corridors were empty.

Looks like everyone’s already there.

After a ten-minute walk, I reached the venue.

The hall was unrecognizable.

What was usually a formal space had been transford into sothing almost dreamlike. Golden lights cascaded from the high ceiling like falling stars, bathing the entire hall in a warm, inviting glow. The polished floors reflected every flicker of movent, while velvet curtains frad the tall windows, swaying gently in the night breeze. Strings of fairy lights traced their edges, adding a soft, enchanting charm.

At the center, the dance floor pulsed with life.

Freshers gathered in small, hesitant groups at first—so nervous, so eager—before gradually giving in to the rhythm of the music. Laughter rose and fell like waves, blending seamlessly with the beat and the hum of countless conversations.

To one side, long tables displayed an array of food and drinks. The rich aroma drifted through the air, tempting even the most reserved students. Nearby, seniors mingled with ease, welcoming newcors, sharing jokes, and occasionally teasing them just enough to break the tension.

And at the heart of it all—

Three figures stood apart.

The top three rankers.

Leon Zevark stood with effortless confidence, dressed in a crisp black shirt and well-fitted dark trousers. His sleeves were rolled slightly, giving him a relaxed edge. A simple watch adorned his wrist, and his neatly styled hair completed the look. There was nothing overly extravagant about him—yet he stood out all the sa.

Not far from him stood Princess Celestine.

Blonde hair cascading in soft waves, blue eyes bright and striking—her presence alone commanded attention. She wore an elegant icy-blue gown, embroidered delicately with silver. It hugged her form at the top before flowing gracefully to the floor, a sheer cape trailing behind her like a whisper of frost. A simple tiara rested upon her head, completing her regal aura.

And then there was Aria Velmora.

Silver hair, smooth as moonlight. Crimson eyes, sharp and unreadable.

Her deep red dress shimred subtly under the lights, its elegance matched by the simplicity of her silver jewelry. There was sothing about her—quiet, yet intense—that drew attention without effort.

Naturally, the entire hall revolved around them.

...Not that I cared.

Suppressing my presence as much as possible, I slipped away toward the food section.

At least the food won’t disappoint.

By around 10:30 PM, I had lost all interest.

Without a word, I left the hall.

The night air greeted as I made my way toward the academy garden.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

Just how I liked it.

The garden lay still beneath the moonlight, bathed in a soft silver glow. Flowers shimred faintly, their fragrance drifting lazily through the cool air. Leaves rustled gently, and fireflies flickered like scattered stars, lending the place an almost surreal calm.

I lay down on the grass, closing my eyes.

And began to cultivate.

For , it was as natural as breathing.

But I never did while walking in front of others.

For most, cultivation required ditation—focusing on mana, cleansing it of nature’s will, then storing it within their core.

Recovery was simpler. Mana would return on its own with ti.

But ?

I never needed to process mana at all.

To ... it never felt like it had a will in the first place.

Because of that, my recovery speed was abnormally fast.

The only limitation—

I couldn’t use external mana to form spells.

Still, it didn’t matter much.

I remained there, cultivating in silence, until dawn broke.

6 AM.

I returned to my room shortly after.

Class starts at 8.

Ti to get ready.