Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

Young Luca crouched low between the bushes, his breathing shallow and silent as he tracked the deer grazing fifty paces ahead. The animal moved slowly through the clearing, ears twitching at every small sound, completely unaware of the boy hidden in the undergrowth.

Not yet.

The distance was still too great, and rushing would only spook it. From the way the deer was moving, angling slightly to the left with each step, it would wander closer within the next minute or so. Patience always won out over speed when hunting alone, that was a lesson drilled into him a countless number of times.

Luca waited, still as stone, while the deer continued its aimless path through the grass. Thirty seconds passed. Then forty. The animal lifted its head briefly, testing the wind, then resumed grazing and took another few steps in his direction.

Any time now.

...

Not yet.

...

The deer took a step forward.

Now.

Luca moved instantly. Wind gathered beneath his feet, propelling him forward in a burst of speed that closed the distance before the deer could even register the sound. His left hand crackled with electricity, blue-white sparks dancing between his fingers, and he touched the animal’s flank just as its head jerked up in alarm.

The current surged through its body. The deer stiffened, legs buckling, and collapsed to the ground without a sound.

Dead before it hit the dirt.

Luca exhaled slowly, letting the residual mana dissipate from his hand. He crouched beside the deer, checking its body for damage. It was a clean kill, no flesh burnt, no torn muscle. His parents had always taught him that wasting meat was disrespectful to the animal that gave its life.

He hoisted the deer onto his shoulders, adjusting its weight until it sat evenly across his back, then began the long walk home.

––

Thirty minutes later, Luca pushed open the door to the small cabin and dragged the deer inside. The familiar scent of old wood and faint smoke greeted him, mixed now with something more feminine – lavender, maybe.

A woman lay on the couch near the window, her pale skin and pointed ears catching the afternoon light. She turned her head toward him and smiled.

"My, that’s a big one."

Her voice was warm, motherly in a way that made something in Luca’s chest tighten. He nodded once, setting the deer down near the table, and felt a small flicker of happiness at her praise.

Sylvia.

An elf.

He had found her collapsed in the forest four days ago, bleeding from a wound he still didn’t fully understand. She had been unconscious for most of that time, waking only two days prior, and even now she was too weak to stand for long.

His parents had always told him to help others when he could.

And Sylvia was kind. He could tell.

Luca pulled out his skinning knife and began working on the deer. His hands moved without hesitation, separating hide from muscle, cleaning the meat with the technique his father had drilled into him when he was barely tall enough to hold a blade properly.

Once the meat was prepared, he built a small fire directly in front of the couch where Sylvia rested. The flames burned hot and steady, hovering just above the carpet without scorching it, contained by his will alone.

Sylvia laughed hoarsely. "I’ve been a mage for many years, but I’ve never seen anything like that."

The happiness returned, stronger this time. Luca glanced at her briefly, then back at the fire.

"It’s nothing. I’ve been able to do it since I was seven."

Sylvia’s eyes widened. "Seven?"

Luca shrugged, skewering pieces of meat and holding them over the flames. "My parents always said I was talented."

But when Sylvia complimented him, it felt different. Better.

The meat cooked quickly under the controlled heat, fat dripping and sizzling as the surface browned. Luca pulled the skewers back, checked that the inside was done, then handed one to Sylvia.

She took it with both hands, smiling as she bit into the tender flesh. "Delicious."

Luca felt heat rise to his cheeks – barely noticeable, just a faint blush – and Sylvia laughed softly at the sight.

"You’re a very nice boy," she said gently. "Your parents raised you well."

"Thank you," Luca murmured.

They ate in silence after that, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Luca focused on his food, chewing slowly, while Sylvia gazed out the window at the forest beyond.

Sylvia looked to be thinking about something, but Luca couldn’t tell what.

They’d only known each other for a few days at most. Only a few days, but even then, Luca could tell Sylvia was a good person. She wouldn’t hurt him, nor would she try to make him do anything he didn’t wanted.

He knew that as if were fact. Even thinking of a different idea seemed absurd.

But despite that, Luca could admit that Sylvia was a little... weird.

Not weird in a bad or creepy way like his mother had warned him about in the past. Not weird in an unsettling way either.

Just... weird.

Like the longing looks she sent him, as if she already knew who he was. Or the times she’d spend looking at the pictures on the wall, staring a little too intently.

But Luca didn’t care. Sylvia was nice.

Weird didn’t mean bad, and Sylvia definitely wasn’t bad. She was good.

Then before he could continue his thoughts, he heard her whisper something, so quiet it was obviously only for herself. She probably didn’t expect him to hear.

But Luca’s senses were sharp. Too sharp.

"I’m glad the future of the world is in his hands."

Luca paused mid-bite, the words hanging in the air between them. He didn’t understand what she meant, but something about the way she said it—soft, relieved, almost sad—made him feel like he shouldn’t ask.

So he didn’t.

He finished his meal, set the skewer aside, and stared into the fire, wondering why those words meant.