The Villain Professor's Second Chance

In the game, this attack at the prince's birthday was the beginning of everything. The assault was supposed to last much longer, with numerous casualties. Draven was one of the fallen, and his injuries became a source of ridicule. When the Chancellor and the rest of the professors arrived, their combined efforts sealed the rift, but the damage was done.

Draven's failure and his subsequent humiliation drove him deeper into villainy, with more people wanting to kill him. I managed to change the outcome slightly, preserving the Drakhan reputation and maintaining my withdrawal from the noble world.

The one behind this attack wasn't a demon but an orc—a mage orc, a leader of his tribe. He colluded with a demon to orchestrate the chaos. This revelation is troubling, but it's not my immediate priority. The orcs will have to be dealt with in the future. For now, I need to focus on the more pressing issues at hand.

My body screams in pain, and despite Alfred's skilled care, the burden of the battle is immense. My mana is almost depleted, and the strain of holding back the demons, especially when protecting Amberine, has taken its toll. Every muscle aches, and a deep, throbbing pain radiates from my core.

"I should be going... to the Drakhan Earldom... assess the situation... face the troubles of the territory...," I mumble, feeling my eyelids grow heavier. Sleep beckons, and despite my resistance, I can't hold out any longer. My eyes close, and I fall into a deep slumber.

___

Huh? Where is this? I look around, trying to assess my surroundings. I find myself in a bustling market, the air filled with the sounds of merchants and the chatter of townsfolk. Kirara, Draven's ex-fiancée, stands beside me, her laughter a soothing melody. We're looking at clothes, planning to buy a new robe.

"Kirara...," I whisper, feeling a pang of sorrow. She was the one who accepted Draven, despite his shortcomings.

Kirara tugs at my arm, pulling me towards a stall filled with colorful fabrics. "Look, Draven! Isn't this one beautiful?" she exclaims, holding up a length of deep blue silk. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, her smile radiant.

I nod, unable to suppress a smile. "It is beautiful. Just like you."

She blushes, swatting my arm playfully. "You always know how to make me blush."

We move from stall to stall, Kirara's enthusiasm infectious. She chats with the merchants, her warm demeanor earning smiles and compliments. I watch her, mesmerized by her liveliness. She picks up a delicate scarf, draping it around her shoulders and twirling in a circle.

"What do you think?" she asks, striking a playful pose.

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months. "I think you could make anything look good."

Her laughter is like music, and for a moment, the weight of my responsibilities fades away. We continue exploring the market, sampling sweet pastries from a baker's stall and admiring intricate jewelry from a silversmith. Every moment with her is a treasure, a reminder of the joy that life can hold.

We stop at a stall selling spices, the aroma of exotic herbs filling the air. Kirara's eyes light up as she sniffs a jar of cinnamon. "Draven, smell this! It's divine!"

I lean in, the scent warm and comforting. "It's wonderful. You always find the best things."

She beams at me, her happiness contagious. We purchase a small pouch of the spice, and Kirara tucks it into her bag with a satisfied smile.

As we wander through the market, we come across a small troupe of street performers. Kirara's eyes widen with delight, and she pulls me to the front of the crowd. The performers juggle and dance, their vibrant costumes swirling in the afternoon sun. Kirara claps her hands, laughing at their antics.

"Isn't this fun, Draven?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.

I nod, caught up in her joy. "It is. I haven't felt this alive in a long time."

We continue our journey through the market, stopping at a stall where a blacksmith is demonstrating his craft. Kirara watches, fascinated, as he hammers a glowing piece of metal into shape. She turns to me, her face alight with curiosity.

"Do you think you could do that, Draven?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "I think I'll leave that to the experts. But it is impressive."

She nods, her attention returning to the blacksmith. "It is. There's so much skill involved."

As the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, we make our way to a tailor's shop. Kirara insists on choosing a new robe for me, determined to find something that suits me perfectly.

"Wait here," she says, smiling mischievously. "I'm going to get something from the carriage."

I watch her go, my heart full. But then the announcement rings out, a warning about a dangerous criminal in the area. A sense of unease settles over me. Kirara reaches the carriage, and my heart stops as I see a man approaching her.

Wait, what's happening? Kirara's expression changes to one of alarm. The man steps into the light—Amberine's father? No, it's his brother, a face twisted with malice. My heart races, but I can't move.

"Run, Kirara, run!" I scream, but no sound escapes my lips. He grabs her, pulling her close, whispering something in her ear that makes her eyes widen in fear. Before she can scream, he plunges a dagger into her side. Her scream of pain and betrayal pierces the air, and I feel Draven's rage and helplessness.

"Kirara!" The memory is suffocating, the emotions overwhelming. Her body falls to the ground, blood pooling around her, eyes wide and unseeing. The man sneers, kicking her body aside as if she were nothing. He walks away, leaving me to cradle her lifeless body, the weight of failure crushing me.

No, no, no! I can't take this. The scene fades, but the pain and rage remain. I can't forget this. I won't let it happen again.

I wake with a start, heart racing and body drenched in sweat. The carriage rocks gently, the rhythmic clatter of hooves on cobblestone a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind.

I sit up, trying to steady my breathing. The memory of Kirara's laughter and the warmth of the market feel like a distant dream. I can't shake the feeling of loss and the determination to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.

So this is... Draven's memories...

I opened my eyes and saw Alfred's face looking straight at me with a hint of concern beneath his composed eyes. "Alfred," I called him.

"Yes, my lord," He replied with his usual reply.

I took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts before speaking. "Alfred," I began, my voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty. "Do you think saving that girl was the correct choice?"

Inside my mind, I couldn't shake the lingering doubt. Saving Amberine didn't guarantee that she wouldn't pose a threat in the future. There had been no notification indicating that I had avoided death. The possibility of her turning against me still loomed large, a shadow that refused to dissipate.

Alfred's eyes, usually so composed, went distant for a moment. I noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor. A fleeting expression of sadness and fury crossed his face before he regained his usual composure. It was a testament to Alfred's exceptional control over his emotions, a trait I couldn't help but admire.

"For most people, it was the right thing to do," Alfred replied, his voice calm and measured. "But for you, my lord, you have every right to abandon her. At the very least, it shows a small victory of self-control."

I let out a chuckle, finding a strange comfort in Alfred's composed reply. "You're right, Alfred. That's absolutely correct." A moment of silence passed between us, the carriage continuing its steady journey.

After a while, I spoke again, my tone contemplative. "Take us to another place, Alfred. A place that appeared in the last sight of my memory—the graveyard where Kirara was buried."

Alfred nodded without hesitation. "As you wish, my lord."

The carriage changed direction, heading towards the somber destination. I leaned back, lost in my thoughts. The memory of Kirara's laughter and our-Draven's shared moments at the market clashed with the brutal reality of her death. I couldn't change the past, but I could honor her memory by visiting her final resting place.

As the carriage rolled on, I reflected on the choices I had made and the path that lay ahead. The future was uncertain, filled with potential dangers and challenges. But for now, I would find solace in the act of remembrance, paying my respects to the one person who had accepted me despite my flaws.

The carriage approached the graveyard, the atmosphere growing heavier with each passing moment. I could feel the weight of Draven's past and the burdens of the present converging in this place. As we came to a stop, I stepped out, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth of my memories.

I walked towards Kirara's grave, each step measured and deliberate. The sight of her resting place brought a mixture of sorrow and resolve. I stood in silence, honoring her memory and vowing to continue my journey with the strength and determination she had once admired in me.

Alfred stood a respectful distance away, his presence a silent support. I knew that no matter what the future held, I had allies by my side. And for now, that was enough.

I found myself lost in thoughts as I stood by Kirara's grave. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves around me, a soothing sound in the otherwise silent graveyard. Memories of her laughter and the warmth she brought into my life played like a bittersweet symphony in my mind.

"Kirara," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

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