Page 157

I was shielding Xenia while glaring at the fake Vikamon.

At this moment, I was neither Vikamon nor Hannon—I was in the only form that existed in my memory alone.

My appearance was rare in this region, where Western features were dominant.

Simply put, I was a black-haired foreigner.

Recently, Hannon had stirred up many incidents, particularly those connected to the Duke of Whitewood.

‘During the Centriol incident, there's a high chance that Mysticism obtained information about my involvement.’

The more cautiously I moved, the better.

If Mysticism were to realize that Hannon was present here, it might raise suspicions.

To avoid giving them any hints, I chose not to appear as Hannon.

However, revealing myself as Vikamon in front of Xenia would also be problematic.

Xenia and Vikamon were blood relatives.

And I—by some twist of fate—had taken over Vikamon's body.

If anyone could detect something was off, it would be his own sister.

To prevent such an inconvenient situation, I had no choice but to use my former appearance.

Amid the thick smoke,

I raised my hand in a knife-hand stance.

Regardless of everything, this was my younger sister, bound by blood, and she had been attacked.

Yet, I felt no rage within me.

It reminded me that the Veil's bandages had stripped me of all emotions.

Not even a flicker of anger remained in my heart.

Instead, I felt relief.

‘If I had been even a little late, this could have ended terribly.’

The blue gemstone the fake Vikamon had just used was a Soul Hunter of Mysticism.

Xenia had been moments away from losing her soul.

‘That was close.’

I was glad I had managed to inform the Duke of Whitewood and rush to Niflheim in time.

‘I didn’t expect them to approach using Vikamon’s appearance.’

From where he was embedded in the wall, the fake Vikamon slowly pulled himself up.

Half of his face and body had crumbled away, revealing a grotesque sight.

He was a puppet made of clay—a creation of Mysticism.

Of course, that was to be expected.

Mysticism always had its hands on anything related to the arcane.

At that moment, Xenia's injuries caught my eye.

Her complexion was growing paler by the second.

She was struggling to breathe.

The bleeding was severe, causing her body temperature to drop rapidly.

Her condition was critical.

If I didn’t act soon, it would be dangerous.

Xenia’s survival came before any battle.

“You possess Mysticism as well,”

The fake Vikamon spoke.

“And yet you oppose us?”

“Drop the foolish idea that everyone with Mysticism will side with your cult.”

Beyond the fake Vikamon, I directed my words at Vulcan, who was lurking in the shadows.

The fake Vikamon silently stared at me.

Then, he took a step forward.

He was coming.

The moment I shifted my stance—

Crack!

The fake Vikamon collapsed instantly.

He must have realized that staying any longer wouldn’t benefit him.

Just as he had calculated, a carriage pulled up in front of the Niflheim estate.

A special-grade carriage, authorized to enter any part of the Empire.

It belonged to the Duke of Whitewood.

‘Even if he tried to act composed, he couldn’t fully withstand Celestial Magic.’

Celestial Magic wasn’t just any spell—it was exclusive to Zerion.

No matter how powerful Vulcan’s puppet was, it had its limits.

‘Taking another's form and moving as they please…’

Though I wasn’t exactly one to talk.

With the fake Vikamon gone, I could finally take a breath.

Without delay, I retrieved a high potion from my mini bag.

“This will hurt. Please bear with it for a moment.”

There was no time to wait for a response.

As soon as Xenia bit down on her lip, I poured the potion onto her wounded side.

Sizzle!

A burning sound filled the air as Xenia clutched my clothes, trembling violently.

High potions regenerate fresh flesh during the healing process.

But they also come with excruciating pain.

Having experienced it myself, I respected Xenia’s ability to endure.

After a brief moment, she stabilized.

For now, the bleeding had stopped.

Further treatment would be necessary, but the immediate danger had passed.

“Lady Xenia!”

“What on earth happened?”

By then, the servants had arrived at Xenia’s side.

While they murmured in concern, I noticed the estate's personal physician rushing toward us.

As I prepared to leave Xenia in their care, she gazed at me with faintly open eyes.

“…Who are you?”

At present, I was using an identity that no longer existed in this world.

Fortunately, that meant Xenia did not recognize me at all.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Xenia.”

Thus, I needed to fabricate a convincing explanation.

Straightening my posture, I placed a hand over my chest and bowed respectfully.

A noble’s greeting.

“I am Ryu, a subordinate of the Duke of Whitewood.”

I omitted my given name and used only my surname.

“The Duke of Whitewood’s subordinate…”

Xenia was well aware of the Duke of Whitewood’s efforts to eradicate Mysticism.

So, my presence here wasn’t particularly suspicious to her.

“…I must thank the Duke of Whitewood for this.”

“She appreciates promising young talents. I’m sure she will be pleased.”

“…Promising?”

At that, Xenia let out a hollow laugh.

Her expression darkened instantly.

“How could I be considered promising after being caught off guard like this…”

She seemed disheartened by the incident.

‘That’s just who Xenia is.’

Xenia was an unprecedented user of Celestial Magic.

But like everyone else, she had a unique trait attached to her.

[Perfectionism] [Self-Criticism]

Those traits always followed her.

Perfectionism.

A conviction to achieve absolute excellence and capability.

Xenia was a perfectionist—

specifically, a self-oriented one.

When she failed to meet her own expectations,

she fell into extreme self-criticism.

That was why the Self-Criticism trait always accompanied her.

Honestly, I didn’t know much about this version of Xenia.

‘Originally, she was supposed to enroll at Zerion Academy next year.’

The first time Lucas met Xenia was during that period,

which was also when the player first encountered her.

Right now, this was before her admission.

It was only natural that I had no real knowledge of what she was truly thinking.

‘Looks like her perfectionist tendencies are still the same.’

During the entrance exam for Zerion Academy,

a huge number of applicants gather.

Because of that, the academy hires additional personnel to assist with the entrance exam.

Along with the student council, additional staff are recruited from among the third-year students.

Since helping with the entrance exam comes with benefits, many third-year students are eager to volunteer.

Lucas participates to support Iris, who became the student council president, and to help out.

And the person Lucas encounters as an assistant during the entrance exam—

That is none other than Xenia Niflheim.

Act 5, Scene 1: The First-Year Entrance Exam.

A 3-on-1 match with an assistant to assess teamwork, even with newly formed teams.

Naturally, it's three students against one assistant.

Thanks to his outstanding achievements and high grades in his second year, Lucas was more than capable of acting as an assistant.

And the opponent he faced—was Xenia.

‘Xenia puts up a good fight, but in the end, she loses to Lucas.’

Xenia is a genius.

Since she is Zerion’s reincarnation, that much is a given.

However, Lucas is the protagonist of Flame Butterfly, a character endowed with extraordinary genius.

No matter how much of a reincarnation of Zerion she may be, she could not defeat the protagonist.

The frustration and despair of losing to a peer.

Her perfectionist nature, which dictated that she must never fail, intensified her self-criticism.

At that moment, the one who stopped her from tearing herself apart—was Lucas.

Lucas, who had already accomplished so much by his second year,

recognized Xenia’s abilities.

And for the first time, she ceased her self-criticism.

From then on, Xenia began paying attention to Lucas.

Furthermore, after learning what Vikamon had done to him,

her hatred for Vikamon only grew.

That is the scenario of Act 5, Scene 1—the entrance exam.

But right now, before the exam,

Xenia’s perfectionism had already turned into self-destructive criticism.

She was always prone to self-criticism.

If left alone, she would bury herself deeper and deeper until the entrance exam.

Her perfectionism stemmed from her household.

The crushing pressure of knowing she would one day have to lead Count Niflheim family.

The weight of being told her whole life that she was a genius.

And above all—witnessing her useless older brother being discarded by their father with her own eyes.

It was only natural that perfectionism would take root in her.

She had even used her prized Celestial magic, yet she had been utterly defeated.

It seemed like this loss would affect even next year’s entrance exam.

‘What should I do?’

I am currently in Vikamon’s body.

Naturally, the responsibilities of an older brother have also been placed upon me.

For Vikamon’s sake as well, I cannot simply dismiss Xenia as someone else’s concern.

I cannot stand by and watch her destroy herself with perfectionism.

Lucas, her role model, is not here.

I cannot be Lucas, but at the very least, I can boost her spirits.

“You were remarkable. If it had been anyone other than Lady Xenia, your opponent would not have fled so pitifully.”

“...Me?”

Perfectionism is born from the anxiety of failing to achieve.

The key is to focus on the successes she has accomplished and reinforce her sense of satisfaction.

She needs to recognize that she has already done well enough by reasonable standards.

The best way would be praise from someone she acknowledges,

but since that’s not possible right now, I will do it myself.

“Yes. You bravely faced the enemy alone. By the time I attacked, his strength was already almost depleted.”

I remind her again and again that she had already achieved something great.

“This was all thanks to you, Lady Xenia.”

Xenia was raised with utmost care.

But in the Niflheim family, she was never given praise—only pressure to aim even higher.

So receiving recognition and praise from others was an unfamiliar experience for her.

As I continued to encourage her, Xenia's eyes darted around.

Then, she turned her head away and let out a small cough.

“W-Well, that’s true. Someone as capable as me couldn’t possibly have done nothing.”

Perfectionists feel the most fulfilled when they are recognized.

Xenia was no exception.

“Yes, precisely. You responded to the ambush like a perfect mage.”

“...Perfect.”

I could see her struggling to suppress a smile.

I had plenty of experience showering Nikita with endless praise.

A little more wouldn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, the servants all flocked to Xenia.

Her self-criticism seemed to have stopped, so that should be enough praise for now.

“You’ve worked hard. Even though you used a high potion, there could still be lingering effects. Please undergo a thorough checkup. You are far too precious.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Mr. Ryu, for saving my life.”

After politely expressing her gratitude, Xenia left with the physician.

Her steps were slightly bouncy.

She must be feeling lighter.

If she knew I was Vikamon, would she have still thanked me like that?

I wasn’t sure, but it was probably best not to reveal my identity.

‘Even Vulcan is starting to resort to extreme measures.’

For them to act this aggressively meant they must be growing desperate.

That left me with no other choice.

I had to take Vulcan down as soon as possible.

‘The scenario will break ahead of schedule, but…’

That was a small price compared to the damage Vulcan would cause.

One concern remained—Vulcan would not give up on Xenia so easily.

I couldn’t leave Xenia here.

After all, she played a key role in both Lucas’s and Mystique’s route.

At the very least, I needed to make sure the main story conditions were met.

I couldn’t just leave her like this.

‘What should I do?’

I crossed my arms and tapped my fingers in thought.

After some deliberation, I reached a simple conclusion.

‘I’ll ask Duke of Whitewood for help.’

A child's ultimate weapon—

A little whining should do the trick.