I Reincarnated as the Villain… But the Hero is My Brother

The woman stared at me like she could see through the bone.

Tall. Lean. Wearing a smirk like it was part of her uniform. Her black leather armor clung to her like a second skin, and her short-cut crimson hair made her eyes burn even brighter — green, sharp, calculating.

A dagger spun between her fingers as she stepped into the throne room.

"You're quiet, my lord," she said. "That's not like you."

I didn't move.

Lucien Draven's memories were still foggy in my head, but one name floated to the surface the moment I saw her.

Selira Vex.

His personal shadow.The Crimson Sovereign's blade.A killer.Loyal. Dangerous. Clever.

And now… she was looking at me like something was off.

I forced my body to lean back against the throne, crossing one leg over the other like it was natural.

"Spent too long in the void," I muttered. "Came back with less patience and a worse sense of humor."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then we're in trouble. You were never exactly a jester, Lucien."

That name still sounded strange in my ears.

I pointed at the scroll she'd tossed — the one with Elion's face on it.

"Where did this come from?"

"Scouts," she said. "Near the borderlands. Your brother — the so-called Hero — burned through a garrison of Flameborn Knights. Left only one alive. That man swore he saw the boy heal a dying villager with nothing but a whisper."

I swallowed hard. "And?"

"And he's headed straight for us."

Of course he was.

The war had already begun.

Prophecy or not, the kingdoms were just using it as an excuse to kill each other faster. But Elion wouldn't be here if he didn't think it mattered.

He believed in saving people.

He always had.

Even when I told him that the world didn't give second chances.

Even when I dragged him out of alley fights, patched him up with stolen meds, gave him the last of our food and lied that I wasn't hungry.

Even when I died for him.

Now he was marching straight into hell.

And I was supposed to kill him.

I stood up slowly. The sword by the throne called to me. It wasn't a sound — more like a pressure. A heat under the skin. Like it was waiting for blood.

Selira watched me carefully.

"I'm assuming you didn't come here just to deliver posters," I said.

She smirked. "You always were good at guessing."

"And you always show up when you're either going to kill someone… or offer your services."

"Both, today," she said brightly.

I frowned.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Half the council thinks you're still in your death trance. Some even want to replace you. The usual vultures circling the corpse. But me? I've seen enough bad gods to know when a monster still breathes."

"Flattered."

"Don't be. If you'd woken up wrong, I'd have killed you myself."

She flipped the dagger once, then holstered it.

"But you didn't. And now we've got a Hero walking into our lands like he owns the place. The prophecy says one of you must die. My money's on you — if you play it smart."

"And if I don't?" I asked.

"Then I'll bury you myself," she said without flinching.

She was loyal.

Not in the soft way. Not in the "swear on your life" kind of way.

She was loyal because she'd watched the world burn, and she chose her devil anyway.

Lucien must have earned that. Somehow.

But I wasn't him.

Not really.

Still, I needed allies. I needed time. And above all — I needed a plan.

Because if Elion saw me and recognized who I was — or worse, if he didn't — this whole world was going to spiral into something neither of us could stop.

I turned back to her.

"I need access to the Whisper Archives. Everything we have on the prophecy."

Selira blinked. That wasn't what she expected.

"You never believed in that crap," she said.

"I do now."

She hesitated. "That place is sealed. Even to you."

"Unseal it," I said, voice firm. "Bring me the Watchers. The war council. Anyone with dirt on fate magic. I want to know who wrote this prophecy… and how to break it."

"Break it?" Her voice was low. "That's suicide."

"No," I said, walking past her. "That's what they want us to believe."

As I reached the doors, the air shifted again.

[Villainy Points +10]Objective Progress: Disruption of Destiny Detected.Path Divergence Level: [1%]

Only 1%?

I'd just declared war on prophecy, and I'd barely scratched the surface.

Figures.

Selira followed behind me, silent, processing.

"You're really different," she said.

I paused, hand on the iron door.

"Is that a problem?"

She grinned. "Not for me. Just makes things more interesting."

We stepped into the corridor — torchlit, humming with unseen magic.

Somewhere far above us, bells began to ring.

War bells.

A runner came sprinting down the hall, breathless.

"Your Grace! News from the border!"

I turned, pulse quickening.

"What is it?"

"The Hero…" he gasped, "…he's taken Blackspire Fortress."

Selira's mouth parted in surprise.

Blackspire? That place was a nightmare fortress. It had never fallen in two centuries. And Elion—

"He did it in a single night," the runner finished. "No casualties. Not one."

I stared down the corridor.

So… the Hero had arrived.

Not just strong.

But terrifying.

And somehow, still merciful.

[New System Notification]The Hero approaches. Time until convergence: 6 days.

Main Objective: Slay the Hero.

Secondary Option Unlocked: Reveal Your True Identity — ???

Penalty for Inaction: World Degradation begins.

I clenched my fists.

Six days.

Six days to either become the villain they feared…

Or tear the whole fate-machine apart.