"MUAHAHAHAHA! Burn! Let the world burn in the fires of—"
Cough. Hack. Wheeze.
I choked on my own saliva. The maniacal laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by the pathetic sound of a nineteen-year-old trying to expel air from the wrong pipe.
My throat burned. My chest felt tight.
Wait.
Why was I laughing?
I blinked. The room wasn't my cramped apartment. It wasn't the glow of my PC monitor showing the "Game Over" screen of Arcanum Regalia at 3:00 AM.
It was a cathedral of obsession.
Black velvet curtains. Gold trim that cost more than my student loans. A ceiling painted with screaming demons. And a mirror standing in front of me—a mirror reflecting a man who looked like he had been designed by an edgy teenager with an unlimited budget.
Pale skin that had never seen sunlight. Crimson eyes that glowed with biological malice. Hair blacker than a corrupted save file.
My stomach dropped through the floor. I knew this face. I had spent 200 hours killing this face. I had written forum guides on how to efficiently decapitate this face.
Duke Ashen Noctis.
The Final Boss. The World Enemy. The man destined to die in all 47 routes of the game.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no. Please, let me be the generic villager. Let me be the comic relief skeleton. Anything but him."
A transparent blue rectangle slammed into my vision, hovering in the air like a glitch in reality.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE.]
[Welcome, Host. You have successfully logged into the body of: Ashen Noctis.]
[Current Status: FINAL BOSS (Dormant)]
[Main Objective: Survive.]
I stared at the floating text. My gamer brain automatically tried to find the "Log Out" button. It didn't exist.
Instead, a red notification icon blinked aggressively in the corner of my vision. It was pulsing like a warning light in a nuclear reactor. I tapped it with a trembling finger.
[FATE CALCULATOR ACTIVATED]
Current Timeline: Prologue – The Royal Ball Time Until Critical Event: 6 Hours Probability of Death (Immediate): 0% Probability of Death (Long-term):99.9%Cause of Death: Decapitation by [Saintess Elara].
"Ninety-nine point nine percent?!" I shrieked. My voice cracked, but thanks to this body's vocal cords, it didn't sound like a squeak. It sounded like a tectonic plate shifting.
I wasn't just the villain. I was a walking corpse.
In Arcanum Regalia, Duke Ashen Noctis doesn't just die. He gets obliterated. He gets purified by holy light, eaten by dragons, stabbed by the Hero, and—in the "True End"—his head is mounted on a pike while the credits roll.
I grabbed my head, hyperventilating. Think. You were a top-tier raider. You know the lore. You know the mechanics.
I needed water. I needed to calm down.
Knock. Knock.
The heavy oak door creaked open. A maid stepped in, balancing a silver tray. She was trembling so hard the teacup rattled against the saucer like a maraca.
"Y-Your Grace?" she squeaked. "Did... did you require assistance? I heard screaming."
Okay. First step: Damage control.
Ashen Noctis is known for being a sadist who fires servants for breathing too loudly. If I want to survive, I need to change my reputation. I need to be kind. I need to show them I'm a changed man.
Smile, I told myself. Just give her a gentle, benevolent smile.
I forced the muscles of my face to curve upward. I channeled every ounce of gratitude I felt for another human being.
"Good morning," I said, intending to sound soft. "Could you please bring me a glass of water?"
That was the intent.
But as the words left my mouth, a cold energy surged from my diaphragm. The air in the room dropped ten degrees. The shadows in the corners stretched out like grasping claws.
[Passive Skill Triggered: VOICE OF THE ABYSS (Lv. Max)]Effect: All charisma checks are automatically converted to [Intimidation]. Friendly dialogue is perceived as a threat.
What actually came out of my mouth sounded like gravel grinding inside a tomb:
"I THIRST."
And the smile? I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror. I wasn't smiling. I was baring my teeth like a shark smelling blood in the water.
The maid turned pale. Translucent.
"H-He th-thirsts for... blood?" she whimpered.
"No!" I panicked, reaching out a hand. "Wait! Just water! I just need water!"
[Passive Skill Triggered: VILLAIN'S GRASP]Effect: Sudden movements are perceived as lethal strikes.
She screamed. It was a high, thin sound. She dropped the tray—crash—and scrambled backward on her hands and knees, tears streaming down her face.
"Mercy, Your Grace! I have a family! Take the tea, just don't take my soul!"
She bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her. I heard the sound of frantic running fading down the hallway.
[System Notification][Reputation Updated: "The Duke Who Drinks Souls" (Local Rumor)][Fear Level: +50]
I stood there, hand still outstretched, staring at the closed door.
"I just wanted hydration," I whispered to the empty room. "This game is broken."
I slumped back onto the massive four-poster bed. This was a nightmare. I was trapped in a body that auto-translated "Hello" into "Die."
I opened the System Menu again, looking for anything—any item, any skill—that wasn't designed for mass murder.
[INVENTORY]
Sword of Eternal Night (Cursed) Ring of Corrupted Mana (Cursed) Vial of Poison (Type: Agony) x10 Casual Wear (Black)
"Great," I muttered. "My inventory looks like a goth teenager's Amazon wishlist."
Then, I saw the calendar on the wall.
The 15th of Sun-Month.
My blood ran cold.
Tonight. It was tonight.
The Royal Ball.
In the game, this is the tutorial event. This is where the Heroine (The Saintess) meets the Capture Targets. And it's where Duke Ashen Noctis makes his public debut to insult the Heroine, marking himself as the antagonist for the rest of the game.
If I go, I trigger the [Doom Flag]. If I don't go, the King executes me for treason (I checked the lore; attendance is mandatory for Dukes).
I walked to the window. The castle loomed over the capital city of Arcanum. It looked beautiful, bathed in the morning light. Somewhere down there, the Saintess was probably waking up, brushing her hair, and preparing to ruin my life.
I looked at the mirror one last time. The red eyes stared back.
"Okay, Ashen," I said, my voice deep and terrifying even to my own ears. "You have six hours to figure out how to attend a party without accidentally declaring war on the kingdom."
I grinned. It was a reflex.
In the mirror, a demon smiled back.
[Quest Updated: SURVIVE THE BALL]
Objective: Do not die. Do not get slapped. Do not accidentally start a cult. Reward: Survival (Temporary). Failure: Head on a pike.
"Let's play."