Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

The day had finally come.

The first day of the second act of his life, or rather, Azrael's.

The first day back at the academy.

'Hopefully, I survive today.' The thought was a grim prayer whispered in the back of his mind.

He left the grand, silent mansion in the official Ashveil carriage, a black lacquered beast pulled by four powerful, midnight-colored horses.

The family crest, a silver raven clutching a thorny vine, was emblazoned on the doors, a clear statement of power.

The Royal Academy of Aethelgard was a world unto itself, located a significant distance from the capital where the noble estates resided.

Because of this, most students, regardless of their status, lived in the academy dormitories. The original Azrael had been no exception.

He remembered a key plot point from the novel. The original Azrael had forced Elvara to come with him, not as a student, but as a personal servant.

It was one of his dumbest, cruelest moves, a public display of ownership that had fueled the hero's righteous anger.

'But I've changed that plot point,' he mused, the carriage rattling on the stone road. 'Elvara is free. She'll be starting her own life here as a first-year.'

A new, radical thought entered his mind. 'If I play my cards right, maybe I can avoid a direct conflict. Maybe I could even become his friend.'

It was a foolishly optimistic thought, but it was the only sliver of hope he had.

The carriage finally rolled to a stop before the magnificent gates of the academy. He instructed his maids to take his luggage to his dormitory.

He then stepped onto the academy grounds alone and began to walk.

This was the real problem. Who was going to show him the way?

The campus was a sprawling masterpiece of architecture. Students moved in streams, their voices a low hum of gossip and excited chatter.

He wanted to ask someone for directions, but he couldn't. What would people think? A second-year student not knowing the basic layout?

His reputation preceded him. As he walked, he noticed the whispers would die down, and students would give him a wide berth. He saw fear in their eyes.

After several minutes of aimless, panicked wandering, he spotted a figure that made him stop. It was a woman with a commanding presence.

He knew her instantly, a face he had drawn with his own hands countless times. Vivienne Cindral.

She was tall and statuesque, with fiery red hair and sharp, intelligent golden eyes. She wore the uniform of a senior professor with an air of absolute authority.

She was a beauty, but a dangerous one, like a perfectly forged sword. She was also the professor assigned to his class.

He fell into step behind her, keeping a respectful distance. He followed her through a maze of corridors and up a grand staircase.

She stopped before a large set of double doors and pushed them open. He quickened his pace.

She was about to let the door swing shut but saw him approaching. She held it open, her golden eyes appraising him with a critical gaze.

"One minute later and you would not have been allowed in my class," she said, her voice crisp and clear. "You are a lucky one."

She gestured inside. "Come in and find a seat."

He nodded silently and entered the lecture hall. It was a large, tiered room, already mostly full. All eyes turned to him as he walked down the central aisle.

He spotted one. A single vacant chair in the very back row, tucked away in the corner. Perfect.

As he made his way towards it, his eyes were drawn to a pair of students sitting near the middle of the hall.

It was them.

The hero, Kaelen Valerius, sat tall and proud, his golden-blond hair catching the light. His sky-blue eyes were fixed on Azrael with open hostility.

Beside him sat the heroine, Seraphina Vane. Her auburn hair was a cascade of fiery waves, and her amber eyes held a look of pure contempt.

He reached his seat and sat down, the weight of their combined stare feeling like a physical pressure on his back.

Professor Cindral closed the doors with a decisive click and strode to the front of the hall.

"Welcome," she began, her voice cutting through the whispers. "This is your first day as second-year students."

"I do not care if your father is a duke, a merchant, or a farmer. I do not care if your blood is noble, common, or even royal."

Her gaze lingered for a moment on Kaelen, then on him. "In this classroom, you are all just students. You will all be treated with the same exacting standards."

"If you are lazy, you will fail. If you break the rules, you will be punished. There are no exceptions. Is that understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Professor," filled the hall.

"Good," she said. "Now, let us begin."

For the next two hours, she delivered a masterclass on the fundamental concepts of Aether, the life force that powered all magic in this world.

Finally, she dismissed them. "You have a ten-minute break before your next class. Do not be late." She then turned and swept out of the room.

The moment she was gone, the tension in the room snapped. He looked up just as Kaelen stood from his seat.

Seraphina stood with him. They started walking towards the back of the room. Towards him.

'No, no, no,' his mind chanted. 'Don't come here. Just leave me alone.'

But the hero never listened to the villain's prayers.

Kaelen reached his desk. He didn't speak. He just slammed his hand down on the wooden surface.

BAM!

The sound echoed in the now-quiet hall. Everyone was watching.

"Today, you pay for what you did," Kaelen snarled, his blue eyes blazing with righteous fury.

"I swear, you will regret every word you spoke. And don't you dare run away from the duel this time."

Saying his piece, he turned on his heel and strode out of the classroom, Seraphina giving Azrael one last withering glare before following him.

The next professor came in, and the class resumed. But Azrael heard nothing. His mind was reeling.

'What the hell just happened? What duel? What did I say?'

Then, a cold, sickening wave of realization washed over him. He had heard those lines before. He had drawn those lines before.

In a panel depicting the very first confrontation between the hero and the villain in the academy.

The exact same words. The exact same scene.

He muttered a single word under his breath, a word filled with the crushing weight of a fate he thought he could escape.

"Fuck. I'm done."