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Villainous Me: Help! The heroines are yanderes!

[Under thorough editing] A young man woke up to a world of magic and endless possibilities. He was transmigrated. Great! Only that he now had three huge problems. One, he had no memories of his past. Two, he was a villain destined to die no matter the outcome. And three, the heroines were all kinda... should he say, obsessed? Yeah, he was fucked. [Note] No Yuri. Conflicting emotions of MC due to loss of memory for the first part. Huge plot twist, so don't fall for whatever you see. NTR? Not. But probably netori. Beta MC? Big No. Harem? Yes! Don't ask me how but I'll make it possible. ..... More golden tickets for faster updates!

Secretly_A_Villian · ファンタジー
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110 Chs

Chapter 08: Conspiracy{Edited}

Escape wasn't a luxury in this Game of Thrones reality; it was the grim difference between surviving and becoming another name etched on destiny's blood-splattered ledger.

Penniless and powerless, a pawn with no queen, he was slated for sacrifice by fate's cruel hand.

Whispers of danger slithered around him like vipers in the night: scheming siblings, a looming "protagonist," and the constant threat of becoming just another statistic.

All he craved was his memories, and a life far from the blood-soaked canvas fate had thrust him upon.

But… escape, like a well-guarded fortress, demanded a key - a working mana core.

However, such a trinket was as elusive as a dragon's hoard.

Despair tugged at him, yet Leo clung to a sliver of hope, refusing to be squashed.

His plan, audacious bordering on suicidal, was his only shot at scuttling out from under the boot of a cruel destiny.

Fixing plot holes? His ass.

He'd already discovered the cruel reality of him being an enemy of fate, cursed with not an ounce of luck.

Trying to solve such a colossal mess with his condition would be like begging for a swift demise.

Yet, the end of the world loomed, another complication in this tangled mess.

Would refusing the mission damn him eternally?

Would fate, who already seemed to despise him, subject him to unimaginable tortures?

Realizing the futility of overthinking, Leo took a gamble, deciding his future self would be better equipped to handle the consequences.

He let go, allowing the situation to unfold as it may.

Mel, the current voice of reason, painted a bleak picture.

[Acquiring a significant amount of compressed mana, the essential ingredient, is impossible with your current strength.]

Leo, however, wasn't one to back down.

"I have an plan," he countered, a determined glint in his eyes.

"The mana might be a hurdle, but I can overcome that. It's the core I'm worried about."

[For now, you need not worry about the core. If you can amass a massive chunk of compressed mane. You just might be able to temporarily jump-start your defunct core.]

A spark of excitement ignited within Leo.

"Really…?" he asked in disbelief.

[Of course,]

"Then… If that works, I might just be able to pull it off," he declared with a determined look.

With a deep breath, he stood up and took to his cloud-like bed, but suddenly…

He remembered something.

Without hesitation, he changed his direction and walked towards his wardrobe, his fingers gripping the handles tightly. 

*Kacha*

As he pulled the doors open, a faint scent of lavender wafted out.

Leo took a moment to appreciate the beautiful fragrance before focusing on his task.

He peered inside the wardrobe, scanning the contents of the shelves with a critical eye.

Then…

He reached up to the top, and slid the panel upwards.

*Click* 

With a soft click, a secret compartment was revealed.

Leo reached inside and withdrew a wooden box, which he cradled gently in his hands.

The box was old and worn, the wood smooth to the touch.

[What's that?] Mel inquired, intrigued.

Leo, unsure himself, could only offer, "I don't know,"

[But you just brought out,]

"I did, didn't I? But… I really don't know… I just… knew it was there." He muttered, his mind in this disarray.

[Strange,] said the voice.

The wooden box, unassuming in its rustic simplicity, hummed with a hidden energy that sent tingles dancing across Leo's fingertips.

It was an enigma, devoid of hinges or clasps, its smooth surface as unyielding as polished obsidian. Yet, an almost primal compulsion drew him in, whispering secrets only his subconscious could decipher.

The very air in the room, usually vibrant, now seemed to hush, the silence thick with anticipation.

With a deep breath, heavy with trepidation and excitement, Leo drew his finger across his teeth, letting a single bead of crimson roll down and land upon the box's surface.

It was a small offering.

But how he came to know of this?

An enigma.

The moment the blood touched the surface, a jolt of energy erupted, crackling through the room like a miniature lightning storm.

The box pulsed with an eerie, bloodshot red glow, two intricate magic circles flickering to life on its sides like malevolent eyes opening.

The smooth wood began to writhe and twist in an unsettling dance, transforming before Leo's astonished eyes. Within seconds, the box had dissolved entirely, replaced by a breathtaking vision.

*Crackle*

In its place hung a sword, its crimson blade reflecting the room's eerie glow with an almost unholy brilliance. It pulsed with an otherworldly power, an aura of raw, untamed potential that sent shivers cascading down Leo's spine like an icy waterfall.

The edge, impossibly sharp, seemed to whisper promises of effortless cuts, its keenness capable of severing the sturdiest oak with a single, fluid motion.

The hilt, crafted from a material unknown yet strangely familiar, fit perfectly into his hand as if molded to his very essence.

Four indentations, cool to the touch but radiating an inner warmth, beckoned him, promising a bond not merely physical, but somehow... deeper, more profound. The crimson metal of the blade shimmered with an inner fire, reflecting the magic circles that had moments ago adorned the box.

But unlike the fleeting glyphs, these markings were permanent, etched onto the surface in intricate patterns that seemed to writhe and dance like flames leaping in the wind.

There was an undeniable familiarity to those patterns, a faint echo in the deepest recesses of Leo's mind. He couldn't quite grasp it, yet the feeling persisted, tugging at the edges of his memory like a half-forgotten dream.

The symbols whispered to him in a language older than words, promising power, purpose, and perhaps... danger.

[The memories again?] Mel questioned, sensing his disorientation.

[No,] Leo shook his head, bewildered.

[This feels different. It's like... I just knew what to do.]

A tense silence descended upon the room, broken only by the voice, [This is getting creepy, even for me.]

As if responding to the unease, the sword suddenly…

Vanished?

"What was that?!" Leo screamed in panic.

[Hold on,]

"What?"

[You should check your status!]

Leo, bewildered, obeyed.

"Status," he said, and a holographic screen materialized, displaying an information that sent a jolt of shock through him.

"Well, fuck!" he cursed, massaging his brows in resignation.

[On the up said, thing's should get a little more interesting from this point on,]

"Yeah… you right," Leo responded, with a smirk.