As for the person they were talking about, he just stood silently in the corner, slowly removing the whole dark robe he was wearing. He didn't need to hide his appearance anymore after all, the whole arena seemed to recognize him now anyways.
Fuck my luck, he cursed to himself, as finally, a set of black, cool-looking clothes appeared on his body. They looked elegant and noble, even though completely different from what other nobles wore. No everyone's style looked different, as if from a completely different culture.
And why wouldn't it be?
This was a dark black casual tuxedo with a long blazer, making him look intoxicatingly elegant and refined. The outfit hadn't even originated in this world. It came from the world Razeal used to live in, and he had recreated it here.
Well, actually before any of you start judging his weird taste, thinking "That outfit must be hard to fight in" or "How uncomfortable does that look?" let's get something straight.
It's not like he had nothing better to do and decided to tailor it just for fun.
Not at all.
This whole thing was because of that motherfucking system.
The same damn system that insisted:
[A villain must have a sense of fashion. Just by your appearance, you should scream class. So... wear something worthy of a villain.]
Honestly, it was exhausting. Only Razeal knew how hard it had been to craft this from scratch by hand, from memory just to replicate a design from a world that no longer existed.
Recreating every step of the design and creation process with no blueprint…
So much effort… just for clothing.
The outfit was elegant enough that, under normal circumstances, the crowd who already had their eyes on him thanks to all the chaos earlier would have given him a few side-glances.
But sadly, no one was in that mood now.
Instead, the entire arena murmured among themselves, their eyes occasionally flicking toward Razeal.
"He's still alive? Damn…"
"Honestly, I wished he could've been executed back then. But I guess being a Duke's son does come with privileges. Even if you get caught trying to rape someone, you still walk out safely.
Well, it was only because of Miss Luminus's family. Even though she's the heiress of a Duke family herself, her side chose to settle things quietly with the Virelans. Though I've heard the price the Virelans paid was very big... I don't know the details.
It was just his luck that, at the time, Miss Luminus hadn't yet been chosen as the Saintess. If she had been and with the wrath of the Church of Light behind her then even House Virelan would've been forced to lower their heads.
"Hey dude, tone down your voice. You're gonna get us all killed if someone hears you."
So many murmurs.
Commoners. Nobles even spectators. Every single person there was whispering to each other in hushed voices even though it was obvious to everyone.
After all, Razeal Virelans was the most hated person in the entire empire and likely always would be.
So much so, in fact, that mothers would tell their children, "Sleep, or Disgusting Razeal will come get you."
He's dead. I'm pretty sure of it now. I mean, I don't know how he survived… Where did he even hide? No one found him in the past five years.
Where did he disappear to? And even if he did survive, he still had the audacity to come here?
No one was interested in how Razeal managed to enter the Academy Trials. But they should be. It's not easy to even get a chance to join this place the most prestigious academy in the world. You needed a special recommendation letter, an extraordinary achievement, or a direct invitation from the academy staff themselves.
It's that hard to get in here. The level of protection is insane. No one can just walk in not when the knowledge taught here could be dangerous in the hands of other empires.
The discussions and speculations were erupting with full passion between everyone. Finally, the bored audience had a topic that every single group was eager to argue about.
Meanwhile, Razeal just sighed. He shook his head but remained silent, even though he could hear every single word.
He didn't know actually no one did that these people, even while pretending to whisper and act discreet, were speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. It was as if they didn't give a damn anymore.
"Attention, please!!"
Finally, a strict and commanding voice echoed booming so loudly that it almost scratched at the ears. Mana particles, sound molecules, and even the air around them had been manipulated simultaneously to amplify it.
That voice shut every mouth noble, commoner, even the spectators seated high above. All attention turned toward the center of the arena.
A small white marble platform rose.
And standing atop it... was Headmistress Selvara.
Her presence alone stilled the storm of whispers. A figure carved in marble and willpower, she stood tall, the flowing silver of her uniform catching the light as though the sun itself dared not outshine her. The marble dais beneath her feet pulsed faintly with runes ancient, binding, and absolute.
She raised one hand. Silence fell as if the air itself had been commanded.
Then, her voice rang out not loud, but layered with authority that sank into skin and bone.
"Welcome."
Selvara continued, as if nothing had ever happened.
"You all stand here today as participants in the Academy Entrance Trial. You have been watched. Measured. Assessed. And now, you are here not by chance, but by consequence."
She completely ignored the incident that had unfolded moments ago, as though it held no relevance to her or the proceedings. Not a single word was spared for it. As if it simply didn't concern them.
And perhaps it was the weight of her authority or perhaps the sheer gravity of the moment that made the crowd fall silent. Even the fervent murmurs and whispered scandals surrounding Razeal faded into nothing.
Because right now, nothing mattered more than what she had to say.
Her gaze swept over the arena. Measured. Unflinching.
"I will not waste words explaining the obvious. This is the Gate of Trials. I expect everyone is well prepared and If you came unprepared… if you still don't know what awaits you behind those gates, then allow me to say this"
Her tone turned colder.
"you are unworthy."
A pause.
"But," she said, voice cutting clean, "if by some means, someone walks through the unknown and survives, if they conquer what they did not prepare for… then perhaps they are more worthy than any who studied it."
Murmurs rippled across the audience again but no one dared speak aloud.
Selvara extended a gloved hand toward the grand obsidian arch behind her. The Gate of Trials. Its surface shimmered like oil under sunlight, ancient inscriptions writhing faintly across the stone.
"To pass," she said, "you must gather one hundred elemental cores. That is the minimum. No less. Do that, and the gates of the Academy will open to you."
Her voice did not rise. It didn't need to.
"For those who desire more those seeking a higher standing, better dorms, stronger instructors, greater resources your rank will depend on how many cores you gather beyond that threshold."
She let that sink in.
"And for those who believe they belong in the Royal Classroom... the path is clear."
Her eyes gleamed, sharp as shattered glass.
"You will need one thousand cores."
A hush swept through the crowd like a breath held by the world itself.
Then her expression softened not in warmth, but in formality. The tone of a ruler acknowledging her court.
"And now, I would like to thank the distinguished figures who honor us with their presence today. The Roy.... (and it kept going)* Your presence dignifies this trial." Finally ending
No encouragement. No applause or comfort for trembling first-timers who were nervous almost scared to say the least.
She inclined her head slightly. It was not a bow. It was acknowledgment measured and regal.
"May the worthy rise. Let the Gate of Trials now open."
Everyone else was listening to the Headmistress with rapt attention, hanging onto every word with expressions ranging from awe to tension. Except certain someone.
One person stood still with no concentration, not out of reverence, but because he was too busy having a silent meltdown with the cursed entity shackled to his soul.
Mentally, Razeal was seething. No he was ranting (cursing).
"You sadistic, broken piece of cursed scrap-code…"
His lips didn't move, but his thoughts were venom.
"A long-ass tuxedo. In a combat trial. That's your idea of 'villain aesthetics'? You really think that makes me look like a proper villain?" Are you out of your mind?! Other villains get cheat skills, death beams, god-slaying swords hell, even plot armor. And you? You gave me fashion sense?! What you even do except giving useless order's anyways"
"Ever seen how useless no problematic you are."
A low sigh escaped his nose as he flicked his fingers subtly.
A dark, translucent screen appeared in the air before him cold, blackened glass with faint red glyphs pulsing at the edges.
" SYSTEM INTERFACE - STANDARDS OF A VILLAIN "
System Type: Cursed Binding (Irrevocable)
User: Razeal Virelan
Alignment: Rejected by Fate
Status: Alive (Unfortunately)
" Description ": You were never meant to be the hero. The world itself despises your existence. Light repels you. Fate resists you. And yet... you remain. You are the embodiment of what should not exist a thorn in the wheel of destiny. Rejected by the heavens, embraced by the shadows. The more the world hates you, the stronger you become. It won't stop hunting you until you die. And it will hate you.
Oh, it will never stop. Because your enemy Isn't a person. It's the world itself. Expect misfortune that borders on comedy slip on a banana peel and land in lava. Or a shark's mouth. Or both. Call it bad luck if you want.
But really… it's just the universe doing its job. Trying to erase you
" System Effects "
1. Rejection of Light (Passive Curse)
– Cannot learn or wield any form of Light, Holy, or Pure-element skills or Even swordsmanship even any martial skills.
– All beings light faction instinctively loathe your existence.
– Absolute hostility from everyone.
2. Dark Resonance (Innate Affinity)
– Absorbs and resonates with Dark, Cursed, or Forbidden energy.
– Learns forbidden arts naturally.
– Monsters and corrupted entities may see you as kin… or kneel or may just be enemy of you?.
3. Eternal Prideful (Passive)
– You cannot swallow disrespect. Ever.
– Absolute Arogance
– Must assert dominance when challenged.
– Failure to do so will result in System-Enforced Punishment™. (Severity: Hell-tier)
4. Absolute Dark Genius
– Your mastery over dark arts is second to none.
– If you claim to be second-best, reality will glitch in protest.
– Your comprehension speed with cursed, shadow, and forbidden magic is monstrous.
5. Absolute Love:
–Feelings persist indefinitely, unshaken by time or reason
– Boundless affection; immune to limits or restraint
– Deep attachment may evolve into fixation or obsession
This is fucking bullshit. None of these so-called "effects" deserve to be called buffs or even help. They're curses each and every one of them. Like some sick joke handed down by fate.
And if any of you think I'm being unreasonable, just wait. That "dark affinity" crap? The "dark faction" bullshit? It's all useless. Completely useless. Because this world hell, this entire universe is nothing but pure white faction. No dark magic, no shadows, no cursed spells. Nothing. The so-called "Chosen One" novel world? All light, all holy, all clean. Darkness? It's a myth here. A joke maybe in those places but he doesn't think there is anything available here and honest not Many chances.
In short, I got saddled with every disadvantage imaginable from having a system and the things supposed to compensate me? Worthless no curses.
[Host, why are you suddenly so whiny today? You haven't complained like this in years... Are you just nervous about unlocking a new skill and afraid you won't get to curse me anymore? Honestly, that's petty. Grow up, host.]
The system's words echoed in his mind, dripping with disgust as if it knew him too well like it could read his thoughts. Which, honestly, it couldn't. which it wished it could.
Razeal's cursing stopped midway. I just wish that function were truly usefull since you've been bragging about it for the last five years. The only reason he hadn't changed your voice into something disgusting like a romantic tone or even a cute little girl's voice or switched the interface background from this dark, eerie setting to a pinkish, baby-girl style, or maybe even a permanent rainbow flag, was that he kept holding back.
°_°
The system felt his code vibrate with the brutality of the cursed words being spoken.