The first thing I felt was the softness of the sheets. It was so different from the thin blanket I used in my old, cramped apartment. For a moment, half-awake, I thought I had fallen asleep watching the game again.
But when I opened my eyes… I saw marble pillars, golden curtains, and a diamond chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
It all looked painfully familiar.
This was the Valenstein manor — the home of that villain.
My heart skipped a beat. I moved my hands and saw they were small, pale, fragile. I wasn't an adult anymore. No, I was eleven. The villain's age before the story began.
I sat there quietly, trying to breathe. I had played The Legend of Ardinia enough to know everything about this place — and the man whose body I was now in.
Leonhart Valenstein, born heir of the wealthiest noble family in the kingdom. A boy feared for his temper, known for his cruelty. A villain so Cruel that people get scared from him just by looking at him and being killed by his own sister.
The thought made my chest ache.
For an entire day, I said nothing.
I didn't speak to the servants. Didn't touch the silver spoons or the golden apples sent to my room. I just watched.
And what I saw frightened me more than any monster in that game.
The maids walked as if stepping on glass, their hands trembling every time they passed my door. The butler—an old man whose back was nearly bent in half—flinched when I looked at him. Even the dog refused to meet my eyes.
I didn't need to ask to know the truth.
This boy… this body… had already become a living nightmare.
So when the sun set, I decided to test it. A simple question, nothing more.
"What day is it today?"
The maid froze, her lips trembling. She nearly dropped the cup she carried.
"It's… it's the Thirteenth of the Winter Moon, young master…"
Her voice cracked halfway through. She bowed so deeply her forehead touched the floor.
I didn't know what to say. My mouth went dry.
And in that silence, the truth screamed louder than words: people didn't just dislike Leonhart Valenstein. They feared him. Even as a child.
That night, I sat near the window. The moonlight glimmered across the cold marble floor. Somewhere out there was her — the sister who would one day kill me to prove her loyalty to the hero.
In the game, I had sided with her. Cheered for her when she drove her sword through her own brother's heart.
Now that brother was me.
I clenched my fists around the soft fabric of my sleeves.
If this world wanted a villain, then fine. But this time… this villain would choose his own ending.
I would live long enough to change that story — no matter what it took.