Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

A whole week passed.

Nothing changed besides Seraphina waving at him before class.

Ronan waved back each time, keeping the gesture casual.

He remembered how she acted the previous week – excited about the runic symbols, genuinely pleased when he helped her understand them.

Seraphina didn’t actually have a massive role in the novel.

She helped Luca politically to take down Arthur during the second-to-last Academy arc, serving as his inside connection to the royal family.

There had also been a monologue where she expressed being unable to feel like a "normal girl."

Everyone, even Luca, treated her like a princess who deserved respect at all times.

Ronan sat through the lessons as normal.

Selene drilled theory into them – safe mana practices, injury prevention, circulation techniques, refinement dangers.

Useful, but dull when you already understood the underlying mechanics.

The only thing Ronan looked forward to now was combat section. He knew that once the Academy finished teaching the theoretical groundwork, they would shift emphasis heavily toward practical combat training.

Combat class started again.

Ronan stood on the field with Seraphina across from him, wooden sword loose in his grip. Her stance shifted, and he noticed immediately – she was holding back more than usual.

At first he was confused why, but it became obvious pretty quickly. She was trying to help him.

Before, the sword practice had never really helped him. Sure when she went all out, he could get his ass beat, which was good, but now she was leaving openings which actually allowed him to improve.

Her swing came high, aimed at his head but telegraphed enough that he had time to read it. Ronan ducked under the strike and saw the opening she left when she overextended. Her weight was forward, feet too close together. He kicked low, sweeping her legs out.

Her eyes widened as she tried to step back, but his leg connected first. She fell backward, and Ronan stabbed the wooden blade toward her throat, stopping just short.

Seraphina laughed – genuine surprise – and raised her hand.

"Yield."

Ronan stepped back and offered his hand. She took it, pulling herself up.

"I finally got a real round on you."

He kept his tone light, made sure not to treat her too formally. She smiled at that.

Then she pouted.

"Why are you such a fast learner? First the runes now this."

It was empty praise, considering she was holding back a lot. Ronan pointed at her stance with the tip of his wooden sword.

"You were very clearly going easy on me."

Seraphina rolled her eyes.

"You used to be the worst in class by far in weapon combat. Now I can point out at least three worse than you."

"Only three?"

Ronan said it teasingly, but Seraphina glared.

"Those three are all trained in their weapons. The fact that you passed them so quickly is not normal."

Ronan shrugged.

"I need to get a lot better."

"Why? Because of your sister?"

It was a logical conclusion to draw. Since Ronan’s sister was a lot better than him, she assumed there was some inferiority there.

"Sure, you could say that."

"You’re learning faster than I did when I started," Seraphina said, getting up and patting her combat skirt down. "So don’t feel too bad. Did you never study swordsmanship before this?"

Ronan was about to shake his head no on instinct, but he stopped. The original Ronan probably had studied a little. That was evident by the small amount of muscle memory that was left in this body. The basics were drilled into this body, that much he could tell.

"No, I learned the basics when I was younger of course."

"Of course, but I’m asking about actual swordsmanship lessons."

"I took a few but I never really cared for them, or cared to improve."

"Ah." Seraphina’s expression changed. "Yes, I’ve heard you used to be quite the scoundrel."

Ronan grinned. "You could say that."

––

After class ended, Ronan returned to his room and sat down on his bed. He closed his eyes, reached for his left wrist with his right hand, and twisted.

Snap.

Pain spread through his wrist and forearm in painful waves. His heartbeat quickened. Ronan gritted his teeth but made no sound.

After a few seconds, he exhaled slowly.

This was the most he could self-inflict.

With Aura here, he could just order her to break his other wrist, his ankles, maybe a few ribs – bones that would heal quickly and strengthen under Steel Bone Armament’s influence.

Self inflicting was still possible, but it was a lot easier to say "I should have broken more of my own bones" in hindsight than actually do it in practice.

The thought settled over him with a sense of detachment.

Maybe I should just start calling Aura over every day.

As if reading his mind, Aura climbed through the window in cat form.

She looked at his broken wrist and didn’t react, switching back to her human form without ceremony.

"Practicing the Bone Armament skill again?"

Ronan nodded.

"Why are you here?"

Usually Aura didn’t waltz into his room uninvited, meaning she wanted something.

Aura paused.

Her face grew complicated.

"I was... bored."

Ronan blinked.

"Bored?"

That made sense, he supposed.

She had very few friends.

Actually, no friends, besides Grace. But he wasn’t even sure if Aura considered Grace a friend, she kind of just clung around her.

"Did you have a lot of friends before you came to the human realm?"

Aura snarled.

"I never needed friends. I don’t need them now."

How edgy, Ronan thought mirthfully.

"If you had friends, you wouldn’t be feeling so bored."

Aura yawned and lay down on his bed with her arms sprawled out.

"If I feel bored, I’ll just come and pester you from now on." She had an amused, almost content expression on her face when she said that.

Ronan felt a flash of annoyance.

"I don’t remember telling you that you could do that."

Aura rolled her eyes.

"It doesn’t breach the contract. Besides, what are you going to do to stop me?"

Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t argue.

Aura was Rank 3 in terms of pure combat strength. At her current skill level, she could go face-to-face with Luca if she wanted to. Fighting her over bed privileges seemed pointless.

Then Ronan smiled, an idea forming.

"If you’re here, make yourself useful."

Aura sat up, tilting her head.

Ronan raised his broken wrist. The movement sent a sting of pain shooting through his arm.

"Break the rest of my bones for me."