Reborn As The Minor Villain In A Romance Fantasy Novel

Lucius collapsed on the bed in a small hotel, he really just wanted to take a short break before heading home.

His body felt heavier than lead, the springs of the mattress squeaking as if they too were struggling to hold his weight.

He kicked off his shoes without bothering to set them neatly and then spread across the bed like he hadn't slept in centuries.

"Finally," he muttered, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Peace."

The room wasn't anything special.

A single bed, a crooked wooden chair pushed against a rickety table, a lamp that flickered like it was powered by half-dead fireflies.

After the noise of screaming civilians, collapsing buildings, and tidal waves smashing through the streets, even this run-down hotel felt like heaven.

He picked a run down hotel since he didn't want to be recognized by a lot of people, after all who would believe that THE Lucius would be here instead of a five star hotel?

Lucius pulled his phone out, the glow of the screen instantly stabbing at his tired eyes.

Notifications stacked up in the hundreds.

He scrolled once, twice, then stopped.

Every single thing was about the rogue attack.

He wasn't surprised.

It had been chaos.

Vanessa's blood surfing against waves that threatened to crush entire blocks.

Civilians screaming for help.

Him pulling people out of cars with space, watching them dangle in the air like puppets.

And then the arrow — the arrow that broke the sound barrier before planting itself in the rogue's skull.

Clips of it were everywhere.

Different angles, edits with dramatic music, slowed-down replays of his arrow hitting home.

He opened one and liked it but after opening the comments, he instantly already regretting it.

Lucius shut the video off with a groan and buried his face into the pillow.

'People really need hobbies,' he thought.

The internet loved making gods out of mortals.

To him, he was just a guy doing the bare minimum to get the government to owe him favors.

To them, he was some hero who stood against the waves.

Though he couldn't deny there was a strange satisfaction in seeing so many people alive because of him.

Still, the truth was less glamorous.

Thanks to him, there weren't too many casualties.

But saying there were none would've been a blatant lie.

In events like that, casualties were unavoidable.

Some had already drowned before he could reach them.

Others collapsed the moment he pulled them out.

A few died quietly while floating in the air, their hearts simply too shocked to keep beating.

He exhaled, staring at the dull lamp light.

It didn't make him sad, not in the dramatic way novels liked to describe it.

He wasn't the kind of protagonist who carried the weight of the dead like chains on his shoulders.

People died every day — that was the one truth no one could rewrite.

If anything, he should be grateful he managed to save even one life.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Lucius froze.

He closed his eyes and groaned into the pillow. "Please no."

Another knock, sharper this time.

'I told her to go home,' he thought, dragging himself off the bed like a corpse rising from its grave.

It had to be Vanessa.

She was the only one that knew he was here right now.

He yanked the door open with an irritated sigh. "Vanessa, I swear if you—"

His words stopped.

His breath caught.

It wasn't Vanessa.

Standing at the doorway was a woman he knew, though not from after his reincarnation.

But from the memory of the original.

She was shorter than him by a head, long silver hair spilling down her back like moonlight.

Her skin was pale, almost ethereal, and her crimson eyes glowed faintly, sharp enough to pierce the soul.

She looked like the stereotypical silver-haired beauty every fantasy story shoved in but Lucius's gut told him otherwise.

He knew exactly who she was.

Elena von Hohenberg.

The Flame Demon.

A Mage General of the Country.

The kind of woman who could burn down an army with a single gesture and laugh while doing it.

Her reputation alone made hardened soldiers tremble.

He had seen her Stitch profile picture — her holding a charred skull like it was a trophy.

She was, without question, very dangerous.

"Good day, brother," Elena said, her voice soft, sweet even.

Before he could react, she stepped forward and pressed herself into him, burying her face into his chest like they were the closest of siblings.

Her arms circled his torso tightly. "I missed you."

Lucius's brain shut down.

'Eh???'

Brother? Missed him? What kind of joke was this?

The only memories he had of her were cold and distant.

Sure, when they were children, she pampered him — braided his hair, gave him candy, treated him like a doll.

But as he grew older, she stopped acknowledging him.

She acted like he didn't exist.

She ignored him so thoroughly that he had honestly forgotten she was even part of his life.

So where did this sudden affection come from?

"Uhm…" Lucius awkwardly pressed his hands to her shoulders, gently pushing her away. "I'm fine and well. You can leave now."

But Elena didn't budge.

Her crimson eyes lifted to meet his.

They softened in a way that unsettled him more than fire magic ever could.

"Did you know your scent is more intoxicating now?" she whispered.

Her cheeks tinged pink as she inhaled deeply against him again, her lips parting slightly as if savoring it.

Lucius's eyes went wide.

'What the hell? Why is it always my scent?'

He thought of Emilia sniffing his clothes. It was like he had unknowingly turned into walking perfume.

'System,' he thought in panic. 'You got an explanation for this?'

[Due to your Wood affinity, the smell of your sweat is laced with natural nutrients that make your scent more intoxicating the more one smells you.]

Lucius's soul left his body.

'What the absolute fuck? So I'm basically an aphrodisiac?'

He immediately tried to use space, to blink himself across the room, maybe even across the continent if he could.

But Elena's grip tightened like shackles of steel.

She dragged him closer, her body pressed against his, her crimson gaze filled with something he had never seen directed at him before.

"You have so many women all around you," she murmured.

Her hand slid from his shoulder, down to his chest, tracing slowly over the muscle as if memorizing the shape.

"So many… that you forgot about me. But don't worry." Her lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. "I'll make you remember."

Lucius's brain completely short-circuited.

Elena tilted her head upward, her face moving closer and closer, her breath warm against his lips.

And then, without hesitation, Elena von Hohenberg closed the distance and leaned upward to take his lips into a kiss.

And so this would be the second time he would be kissed today.