Reborn As The Minor Villain In A Romance Fantasy Novel

At this point in time, Elliot was able to beat a Hohenberg.

Lucius hated admitting it, but that much was clear.

Even if the original was useless to his clan, the name still carried weight. The Hohenbergs were monsters in human skin.

From childhood, their bodies were broken down and rebuilt through training meant to kill weaker bloodlines, although it didn't help them in their awakening. By the time they reached adulthood, their bodies were weapons sharper than any forged steel.

And yet Elliot, of all people, had defeated Lucius before and now the heir of the Gale clan in front of a roaring crowd.

Lucius leaned back in his seat and sipped from his glass.

The arena still echoed with cheers, people chanting Elliot's name as if he'd saved the Empire. To Lucius, it was laughable.

Elliot hadn't even landed a clean punch, and somehow the people worshiped him for it.

The boy had no business winning — but that was the thing about protagonists, wasn't it?

Fate bent around them. Luck stuck to them like a second skin. Even when they stumbled, the world found a way to crown them champions.

'Hopefully Raven won't disappoint me,' he thought.

Raven was similar to an obedient dog now and he introduced the guy in the last stream.

He had potential.

Still, potential meant nothing if you allowed yourself to be humiliated. Lucius remembered all too vividly the time Raven had been turned into an emote by a goblin.

He could still see the chat spamming "Goblin Diff" while Raven lay face-down in the mud.

He sighed again and lifted his glass.

Protagonists could be frauds, but even frauds had a knack for stealing the stage.

Then came the sound he didn't want to hear.

Click.

Click.

The rhythm of heels echoed in the corridor behind him.

Lucius closed his eyes and muttered under his breath, praying to whatever gods might be listening. "Please don't be coming here."

But the clicking drew closer.

The balcony door opened.

Elena stepped inside, crimson dress trailing across the polished floor like liquid fire.

Jewels glimmered on her gown, not the delicate shapes most noblewomen preferred but skulls — tiny, intricate skulls that winked in the light.

She carried herself like royalty, a woman who had never once lowered her head.

Beautiful, yes.

Untouchable, absolutely.

Lucius set his glass down. His day was about to get harder.

Vanessa reacted first.

She rose to her feet so quickly the chair nearly toppled over. She bent in a graceful bow, her voice respectful in a way Lucius had never heard before.

"Evening, Mage General Elena von Hohenberg."

Elena's lips curved in a faint smile.

"Good evening, Blood Reaper. I trust my brother isn't troubling you too much."

Vanessa stiffened.

Her hands clenched together, and she answered quickly, almost tripping over her words.

"Lucius? N-no, he's not trouble at all."

Her heart pounded as she spoke.

Something about Elena's gaze made her skin crawl, as though the Mage General's crimson eyes could see through her bones.

She exhaled softly once the words left her lips, though her chest still felt tight.

"Good," Elena said simply.

Then her gaze shifted to Lucius. Without hesitation, she leaned closer, her fingers sliding over his hand.

Her touch was firm, leaving no room for refusal.

"I want to borrow my brother for a bit," she said smoothly. "Can I?"

Vanessa froze. Her instincts screamed, but her voice betrayed none of it.

"Of course."

Lucius shot her a look that said traitor, but Elena was already tugging him to his feet. His wine sloshed in the glass before he set it aside.

"The Council meeting is about to start," Elena explained, her grip tight on his arm. "You were invited, were you not?"

Lucius blinked.

Oh.

That.

He'd nearly forgotten.

"Oh…" His tone shifted as realization dawned. "Guess it's time then."

They left together. Elena's heels clicked against the marble, her grip tight on his arm.

Once the balcony door shut behind them, her arm tightened even more. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low.

"I don't really like that woman," she muttered.

Lucius sighed through his nose.

Of course. Elena and her insecurities.

She was literally insecure about everything.

"You don't have to like her," Lucius replied. "Lead the way."

She didn't ease her hold. If anything, her grip became more possessive, nails pressing against his sleeve as if she wanted to mark him.

The halls were quiet now, emptied of guests who had moved outside during the duel.

After a few turns, Elena stopped before a door.

"This is the Secretary's room," she explained, composed as ever. "After this, the meeting chamber."

She opened the door.

Inside stood a woman waiting for them, Alexia Viroux.

Lucius recognized her instantly.

She looked exactly as she did on video calls, a professional and uptight woman.

Her voice matched her appearance.

"Welcome, Lucius and Elena von Hohenberg. You're a minute late."

The words were delivered like an official reprimand.

Lucius gave her a lopsided smile.

"Oh, sorry. We'll pick up the pace."

He stepped forward with Elena still hooked to his arm.

As they passed Alexia,

Lucius noticed it, there was a change in her stoic expression… it wasn't anger though, it was something closer to… a pout.

'She was serious about that?' He thought.

He had decided to test out the supreme art of rizzing on the secretary and although she was uptight at first, she showed her true colors quickly and today, she'd dared him to spank her in her office.

She'd been serious.

Lucius's pulse quickened.

He couldn't believe he was about to do this. Elena was right here. But Alexia's faint pout was all the confirmation he needed.

'To hell with it,' he thought.

His hand shot back.

Smack!

The sound cracked like a whip, echoing off the stone walls.

Alexia gasped, body jolting as though lightning struck her spine.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed, breathless, onto the polished floor. Her hands braced against the ground, head bowed, shoulders trembling.

Lucius blinked.

He couldn't see her face from this angle, couldn't tell if she was furious or thrilled. But the fact remained: he had done it.

"I did it," he muttered, almost in disbelief.

Then he turned his head.

Elena was glaring at him.

Her crimson eyes glowed like coals, narrowed with lethal intent. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her grip on his arm became claws digging into flesh.

She looked like she wanted to kill him.

However he already opened the door.

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