Lucien Arkanveil was now three years old.
To the world, he was a prodigy—an adorable golden-haired, crimson-eyed child who spoke with clarity, reasoned with insight, and walked with the poise of someone far beyond his years. The halls of House Arkanveil often echoed with the awed whispers of retainers and nobles alike.
> "A child born once in a millennium."
> "Blessed by the heavens themselves."
But none of them knew the truth.
Beneath the delicate skin and soft laughter lived a soul that did not belong to this world.
A soul named Ashok, a man who in another life had conquered mountains of power and sat atop thrones built on intellect and will.
For three years, Lucien had lived what could only be described as a perfect life: a loving family, unimaginable wealth, prestigious blood, and the future promise of power. It surrounded him like a divine cocoon, a paradise without cracks.
Yet, on the eve of his third birthday, something inside him shifted.
A nagging feeling.
A whisper of wrongness he could no longer ignore.
Too many things lined up too perfectly.
The golden hair and red eyes he bore.
The legacy of the Arkanveil family, masters of both knight and mage systems.
The existence of the Nine Great Families.
The ceremony where all awakened their Traits at age fourteen.
It all felt familiar.
No—not just familiar.
Identical.
Identical to the novel he had read just before his death.
The same novel he had found in the ancient ruins hidden beneath Lord Shiva's temple.
The very novel that had disappeared—along with the mysterious shard—when it was stained by his blood.
Lucien's pupils contracted.
> "Don't tell me…"
He sat upright in bed, heart pounding, the silver moonlight slashing across his face.
> "I've reincarnated into that world?"
A colder thought seized him by the throat.
If the world was the same, then what role did he occupy?
Surely not the hero.
No, that position was already claimed—he remembered clearly.
His fists clenched the silk sheets as the answer hit him.
> "Worse… I might be the villain."
The original villain.
The one born into overwhelming privilege.
The one who squandered his potential.
The one destined to fall so the "true" hero could rise.
---
Lucien could not sleep that night.
The realization gnawed at him like a rat at the foundation of a castle. His memories of the novel were clear—too clear. He needed confirmation. Concrete proof.
Only one place held the truth: his grandfather's private study.
It was said that within those walls were records of the world unknown even to most members of the family.
---
The west wing's highest floor was off-limits to all but the Grand Elder of House Arkanveil.
Guarded by mana-sensing statues, patrolling knights, invisible traps, and cursed artifacts.
A place where a three-year-old had no business being.
But Lucien was not a normal child.
He had already begun practicing Stealth Movements, refining his tiny body into a ghost in motion.
---
[Stealth Movement Lv. 2 – 298/600]
---
Under the blanket of night, he slipped out of his nursery.
His small feet glided across the marble floors, each step calculated and silent. He evaded patrolling maids, vigilant butlers, and even a suspiciously intelligent owl perched atop the corridor chandelier.
That owl... its golden gaze had pinned him in place for a moment, and Lucien had genuinely felt fear.
A valuable lesson:
Owls are bastards.
He pressed on, heart hammering against his ribs, blood singing with excitement.
After twenty minutes of tense maneuvering, he stood before the obsidian door leading into the forbidden study.
The door was layered with enchantments—mana webs woven tight like a spider's lair.
But Lucien, with his perfect memory, recalled the butler's incantation he had secretly observed once.
He mimicked the whisper.
Mana shivered in the air, and with a faint click, the web of spells dissolved.
The door creaked open just wide enough for him to slip inside.
> "Amateurs," he muttered under his breath.
---
The study was a wonderland of oddities and relics.
Glass jars filled with glowing fireflies.
Floating maps that shifted geography in real-time.
A humming blade, its restrained killing intent brushing against Lucien's skin like a lover's whisper.
He paused momentarily, taking it all in, awe threatening to distract him.
But Lucien was here for answers, not treasures.
Keeping to the shadows, he scoured the shelves.
Minutes ticked by.
Finally, his eyes locked onto a thick, black folder rimmed in gold.
The title gleamed in flowing script:
---
"Know Your Surroundings."
---
Lucien tugged it free and sat cross-legged beneath the floating crystal light, casting ghostly reflections on the floor.
He opened it—and the world shifted beneath him.
---
> [World Overview – Classified: For Family Heirs Only]
> The World:
Size: 1000x Earth Standard
Divided into Ten Continents
> First Continent:
Human Dominated.
Nine Great Families:
4 Knight-focused
4 Mage-focused
1 Dual-Mastery (Arkanveil)
---
Lucien's fingers trembled.
The details were too exact.
No errors.
No discrepancies.
This was the world from the novel.
And the Arkanveil family—the sole dual-system masters—was his family.
He turned the page.
---
> Affiliate Families: 19 Total
Arkanveil: 3 Affiliates (All SS+ Rank Leaders)
Remaining Great Families: 2 Affiliates each
> Power Estimate:
Arkanveil = Any Two Great Families Combined
---
The numbers hit him like hammer blows.
Arkanveil wasn't just strong.
They were the foundation, the mountain atop which all others built their ambitions.
A family unrivaled.
And yet, despite that overwhelming power, the villain—the original Lucien—fell. Crushed by his own arrogance. Betrayed by allies. Forgotten by history.
> "I'm not just in the novel," Lucien whispered to the empty room.
"I've become Lucien Arkanveil—the villain himself."
He closed the folder slowly, exhaling through gritted teeth.
Above him, the floating crystal pulsed, casting a sharp crimson glow over his golden hair and pale face.
His crimson eyes burned with a new light—not fear, not despair, but a cold, sharp defiance.
If fate had cast him as the villain, then so be it.
But he would not dance to anyone else's script.
Not the hero's.
Not destiny's.
Not even the gods'.
---
This time, the villain would not fall.
This time, the villain would conquer.
This time, he would rewrite the story himself.
---
[Stealth Movement Lv. 3 – 2/1000]
[New Skill Acquired: Investigation Lv. 1]
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