Maybe I really am a Villian

Astrean territory is in the southern part of the continent.

About 3000 km from the academy.

As soon as I stepped into the formation and gave confirmation to start—

The two mages at Master Rank nodded, and the formation soon activated.

When I opened my eyes, I was already at the academy’s teleportation formation, located on the outskirts of the island.

After completing all procedures for verifying my identity, I was led into the city by a guard at Platinum Rank.

Students are permitted to bring a servant with them, but I didn’t bring anyone along.

Because there’s no real need.

The academy provides everything—from food to laundry—so why would I need a maid?

To pass me water?

I may be lazy, but not that lazy

.

As I was thinking this, a car soon stopped in front of me, and the driver looked at my uniform.

The core uniform consisted of a tailored black coat, sharply cut to fit the body, with a high-standing collar that framed the neck and gave an aristocratic, almost suffocating elegance.

The fabric was a dense, enchanted weave, resistant to minor spells and weather, with a faint sheen that caught light like polished obsidian.

Underneath, students wore a crisp white shirt, always buttoned to the top, paired with a deep crimson tie secured by a metallic clasp engraved with the academy’s crest—a serpent coiled around a broken crown.

The trousers (or skirt variant) were equally dark, stitched with subtle threadwork forming arcane patterns visible only under moonlight or mana flow.

Each student wore a long black cloak, fastened at the shoulder with a silver insignia pin. The inner lining of the cloak revealed the student’s year:

Gray lining – First year

Crimson lining – Second year

Deep violet lining – Third year

Gold-threaded lining – Fourth year

"Need a ride to the academy?"

"No need."

Before the driver could say anything else, I had already vanished from my spot.

I reappeared in front of a shop selling snacks I had never seen before.

Since I still had about 100 minutes before orientation, there was no need to rush.

At my top speed, I could reach the destination in 15 minutes, so there was nothing to worry about.

So I began exploring the city while gradually making my way toward the academy.

After 1 hour and 40 minutes—

Aetherium Academy

Auditorium

The auditorium hummed with a low, restless energy as rows upon rows of students settled into their seats. The room was vast, its ceiling arching high above like a quiet dome, fitted with soft golden lights that cast a warm glow over the polished wooden stage. Velvet curtains framed the front, drawn back just enough to reveal a podium standing alone at center stage—waiting.

Chairs stretched in neat, disciplined lines, yet the students themselves were anything but still.

Murmurs rippled through the hall like a shifting tide—whispers, quiet laughter, the occasional scrape of a chair echoing faintly. Some students sat upright, hands folded with practiced composure, while others leaned toward friends, exchanging hurried conversations before the event began. A few glanced around curiously, taking in unfamiliar faces, while others stared ahead, lost in thought.

Soon, everyone settled into their seats and turned their attention to the stage—

Where a man with light blue hair and black eyes stood.

This man was Eldric, the headmaster of Aetherium Academy.

He appeared to be in his forties, but was actually over three hundred years old.

"I welcome you all to Aetherium Academy,"

Eldric said in a loud voice infused with mana, a faint smile on his face.

"Today, as I stand before you in this grand hall, I do not see mere novices seated in rows—I see potential. I see the future shapers of realms, the wielders of forces both wondrous and dangerous. Each of you has crossed a threshold to be here, and that alone speaks of something rare within you.

Magic is not a gift.

It is a responsibility.

Power, untamed, is chaos. Knowledge, misused, is destruction. Here, within these walls, you will learn not only how to command magic—but how to understand it, to respect it, and most importantly, to master yourselves.

Some of you arrive with confidence, others with doubt. Both will be tested. You will fail.

You will struggle. There will be moments when even the simplest spell refuses your call, when your limits feel unyielding. Remember this—failure is not the mark of weakness. It is the forge of mastery. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

This academy does not create greatness.

It reveals it.

Beyond these halls lie forces that do not care for your intentions—only your strength and discipline. Whether you walk the path of light, shadow, or something in between, your choices will echo far beyond your own lives.

So I ask you—no, I expect of you—

Learn with hunger.

Practice with discipline.

Stand with integrity.

And never forget—magic answers not only to talent, but to will.

One day, you will leave this academy. When that day comes, the world will not ask where you studied—it will witness what you have become.

Make that answer worthy."

Clap! Clap!

"Now, I would like to invite the top three rankers of the entrance exam onto the stage,"

Eldric said with a small smile.

Students immediately began discussing among themselves.

"It must be Princess Celestine!"

"Shut up, you idiot! The top ranker is surely Leon Zevark—the grandson of the Pope!" said one of the believers of the Zevark Church proudly.

"No, it must be Aria Velmora," said a noble student.

"The top ranker of this year’s exam is Leon Zevark. Second is Celestine Voltaris. Third is Aria Velmora,"

Eldric announced in a loud and clear voice.

The three of them were about to stand—

But suddenly, Eldric turned his head toward the auditorium doors.

A faint look of surprise appeared on his face.

At the entrance stood a boy with silver hair and black eyes, his expression calm.

Eldric looked at him and asked in a neutral tone,

"What is your name, child?"

"Asher Astrean,"

Asher replied calmly.