Reborn As The Minor Villain In A Romance Fantasy Novel

The 100th Year Council Anniversary party was one of those chapters Lucius remembered well from the novel.

It had been one of the first events to give readers a true sense of Elliot's social life — or rather, his lack of one.

Elliot, the original, barely had anybody except for Lily. And even then, he somehow managed to disgrace Lucius who was fighting over his Ex-fiancée in public. It was then that Elliot's popularity began to shoot up.

Lucius still couldn't imagine how someone could lose that badly. At a party. In front of nobles. With actual music playing.

It was like tripping during a ballroom dance, face-planting into the cake, and somehow setting the drapes on fire all at once.

But hey — he wasn't complaining.

'Still,' he thought, standing in his mansion room in front of a long mirror, 'that doesn't mean I'll be a victim.'

A couple of weeks had gone by quickly since he had joined the GUILD.

He was now a fully fledged member of Grimmaw.

His squad had streamed a few more raids — each one better than the last and the reception had been overwhelmingly good.

The fanbase was growing, the donations piling in, and the council's invitation was now more than just a formality.

Lucius was satisfied.

But satisfaction didn't mean comfort.

Not tonight.

He tugged at the lapels of his million-royal suit.

Literally a million.

It was still small compared to Vanessa who had spent millions on her whole attire, who knew nobles splurged like this?

He had to admit though: the mirror didn't lie. The suit was tailored to perfection, the dark fabric was imbued with mana so it was glowing a bit.

His tie was sharp, his shoes gleamed, and his hair… well, his hair was art, swooshed back with space magic until not a single strand dared rebel.

'There are going to be elves too,' he reminded himself, adjusting the knot one more time. His lips curled in anticipation.

Elves.

The eternal dream of cultured men everywhere. 'I wonder how beautiful they'll look in person.'

A sharp knock pulled him from his musings.

"My lord," came a soft voice.

The door opened, and Villy entered. Short as ever, but still beautiful. Her golden eyes flicked over him with approval.

"My lady is waiting by the car," she said, hands folded primly in front of her. "She also asked me to remind you to be on your best behavior. That you shouldn't provoke anyone today."

Lucius turned, caught mid-swoosh of his hair. "You know I wouldn't."

Villy arched a brow.

He sighed, adjusting his collar for the tenth time. "Fine, I'll try."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he feared more: the nobles inside, or the women he already knew would be there.

Elena was definitely attending.

Before he left that small hotel, she had threatened to lock him in a cage so that he could be with her forever — and he was one hundred percent certain she hadn't been joking.

Then there was the Saintess.

The so-called Saintess.

Lucius privately preferred the title Predatoress, considering how she'd been bombarding him with messages for a month straight.

He hadn't read a single one.

He already knew what her idea of "fun" was.

With one last check of his reflection, Lucius followed Villy out.

The night air was cool, lanterns glowing along the driveway.

The new waiting outside looked beautiful. And there, leaning casually against it, was Vanessa.

Lucius stopped in his tracks.

Her crimson hair was styled elegantly, catching the light with every flicker. The gown she wore was a deep shade of midnight blue, lined with golden patterns that hugged her figure without being gaudy.

Small golden accessories sparkled at her wrists and ears, subtle but impossible to ignore.

She spun lightly on her heel, the skirt swaying. "Does it look good?"

Lucius let out a long sigh. "Of course… it looks great."

He climbed into the passenger seat before his brain could betray him further.

Vanessa slid into the driver's seat, took the wheel, and started the car.

The engine purred and they were off.

The city lights blurred past, reflections dancing across the glass.

Then Lucius felt a hand slip into his.

"Hey," Vanessa said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something."

He turned, curious.

"Don't seduce any women there." Her tone was flat, though the corner of her lips twitched.

Lucius blinked. "Huh?"

"Be shameful, you manwhore." She released his hand and focused back on the road.

Lucius opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

'How is it my fault most of my fanbase is female?' He wanted to protest. But the way Vanessa's eyes glinted told him it wasn't worth it.

She added after a pause, "But I'm serious. I wouldn't be surprised if someone 'accidentally' tripped into you just to get your number."

Lucius pinched his nose. "…That actually sounds plausible."

They drove on.

The venue came into view long before they reached it.

Massive didn't do it justice.

Towers of pale stone rose into the night, their windows blazing with golden light. The gardens were lit with enchanted lanterns, the paths polished until they literally gleamed like glitter.

Music floated faintly on the air, noble laughter spilling out with it.

Dozens upon dozens of luxury vehicles lined the grounds. Nobles in finery streamed toward the grand entrance, each accompanied by attendants or family.

It was a parade of wealth and power, a glittering showcase of the country's elite.

Lucius's eyes widened.

He hadn't realized there were this many nobles. Apparently, you couldn't shake a tree in this country without a baron's son falling out.

Vanessa pulled up smoothly. The moment Lucius stepped out and offered her his hand, conversation stuttered and heads turned as usual.

Eyes landed on him.

Of course, the universe couldn't let him enjoy the moment.

As they made their way up the steps, one of the butlers carrying a tray of steaming coffee suddenly stumbled.

His foot caught on nothing.

His balance tipped.

And in an instant, the entire tray of hot liquid tilted straight toward Lucius's million-royal suit.

The coffee hit him then bounced.

Quite literally.

Like raindrops hitting glass, the liquid skidded off the shimmering barrier of his Infinity, reversed direction midair, and splashed directly back into the butler's face.

The poor man screamed, staggering backwards as brown stains bloomed across his immaculate white shirt.

The tray clattered to the ground, cups rolling everywhere.

"This stuff is a million bro," He muttered as he passed by the unfortunate man with a sigh, "I just saved you expenses you couldn't afford, be grateful."