I Am a Villain, So What?-Chapter 191: Ashborne county
The next morning came early. The crisp, pre-dawn air of the Capital was biting, but I knew it was nothing compared to the freezing chill waiting for me up North.
I stood in the entryway of the mansion, adjusting the heavy collar of my winter coat.
"You packed the high-grade healing potions, right?" Ariana asked for the third time, aggressively fussing with my scarf. Her violet eyes were filled with a lingering, stubborn worry behind her glasses. "And the mana-recovery elixirs? And the thermal salves?"
"Yes, Ariana. They are all safely in my spatial pouch," I smiled, catching her hands to stop her from adjusting my scarf into a literal chokehold. "I’m just taking a train ride to my parents’ house. I’m not deploying to a warzone."
"With your luck, the train will get hijacked by a rogue dragon," she muttered. Still, a faint blush dusted her cheeks as I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Just... come back in one piece. And don’t let your father bully you."
"I’ll be fine," I promised.
I gave a brief nod to Lily, Alicia, and Merle, who had all gathered in the foyer to see me off, and stepped out into the waiting carriage.
The journey North on the Imperial Mana-Train took exactly a day and a half.
As the train left the lush, prosperous heartland of the Aurelian Empire and chugged into the Northern Frontier, the landscape drastically shifted. The rolling green hills and vibrant cities gave way to jagged, snow-capped mountains and sprawling, dark pine forests.
This was the Ashborne territory. It was the Empire’s first line of defense against the monstrous outbreaks from the frozen wastes. Because of that brutal reality, the Ashborne family wasn’t known for opulent ballroom dances or delicate high-society politics; they were a lineage of hardened, pragmatic warriors.
When the local transport carriage finally dropped me off at the family estate, it felt less like I was arriving at a noble’s mansion and more like I was approaching a heavily fortified military keep.
Massive walls of reinforced dark stone loomed overhead. Anti-air ballistas were mounted on the watchtowers, and the guards patrolling the battlements were clad in thick, battle-scarred plate armor.
As I walked up to the main gate, the two guards at the entrance immediately crossed their heavy halberds, blocking my path.
"Halt. State your business—" The guard on the left froze, his eyes widening beneath his visor as he recognized my face. "Y-Young Master Lucien?"
"It’s been a while, Captain," I said calmly, my breath misting in the freezing air.
The guards exchanged a highly uncomfortable look. In the past, the original Lucien had been a tyrant to the retainers, prone to throwing vicious tantrums when denied.
"Young Master, with all due respect..." the captain started, sweating despite the cold. "The Count issued a formal decree of exile. You are strictly forbidden from entering the Keep until your honor is redeemed. If we let you in, the Lord will have our heads."
I didn’t yell. I didn’t summon my aura. I just looked at him with absolute, freezing indifference.
"Why don’t you stop trying to make decisions above your paygrade," I said, my voice perfectly level, "and consult your higher-ups?"
"Y-Yes, Young Master!" The guard flinched, coughing awkwardly. Indeed, as a mere gate captain, who was he to make the final call on a blood heir?
He frantically signaled to another guard, who dropped his spear and sprinted inside the estate.
It was an incredibly awkward wait. The remaining guards didn’t know what to do. They stood rigidly at attention, clearly uncomfortable and expecting me to start screaming at them at any moment.
They didn’t have to wait long. The knight who had run inside came sprinting back out, huffing for breath. He whispered urgently to the captain. The captain’s eyes widened in shock. He immediately snapped to attention and pulled his halberd away.
"Welcome home, Young Master!" the captain said, saluting crisply.
I gave a silent nod and walked through the heavy iron gates.
The sprawling courtyard beyond was packed with knights running drills in the snow. As I walked past, the clashing of swords slowly ground to a halt. Men stopped to stare at me in utter disbelief. The ’Trash of the Ashborne Family’ had returned. Whispers broke out immediately, murmuring about my exile and my sudden reappearance, but I ignored them entirely, making my way up the stone steps to the main doors.
Before my gloved hand could even reach the heavy iron handle, the doors were thrown violently open.
"My baby!"
A blur of raven-black hair and expensive velvet collided with me.
"Oof—!"
I stumbled back a step as Countess Lyriana Ashborne wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, crushing me in a fierce, overwhelming hug. For a woman of such elegant, aristocratic beauty, she possessed a terrifying amount of physical strength.
"Mother, I can’t breathe," I managed to wheeze.
"Let me look at you!" She pulled back, keeping her hands firmly locked onto my shoulders. Her piercing, dark eyes scanned me from head to toe, her expression shifting instantly from overwhelming joy to fierce maternal fury. "You’ve lost weight! You’re all bone and muscle! And what is this nonsense I heard about a High-Ranking Demon?! I nearly burned down the Association’s headquarters when I read the report!"
"I’m fine, Mother. The healers cleared me," I said, subtly trying to smooth out my crushed coat.
As I stepped back to give her a reassuring smile, I finally took in her appearance.
I paused. I blinked.
Wait. Has she gotten... plump?
What the fuck was going on?
As I looked closer, it wasn’t just that she had gained weight. Her velvet dress was tailored differently, and her belly was distinctly rounded.
Wait. Don’t tell me...
A wild guess sparked in my mind, and it was proven correct five seconds later.
Several breathless maids came sprinting out of the manor doors behind her, looking utterly flustered.
"Countess! Please, you can’t run around like that!" the head maid panted, holding her chest. "The icy steps! It’s dangerous for the baby!"
What the fuck!
My brain completely short-circuited. Did this scenario happen in the game?!
No! Absolutely not! As far as the game’s lore dictated, the Ashborne family only had one child throughout the entire storyline, and that was Lucien!
Where the hell did a baby come from?! Was this the ultimate butterfly effect? Because I hadn’t died, and because my mother was no longer drowning in stress and grief over her disgraced son, they had...
Before I could wrap my head around this massive deviation from the plot, a bone-chilling voice sounded from inside the manor.
"Lyriana."
A deep, rumbling voice echoed from the grand staircase. It was a voice that commanded absolute obedience, carrying the heavy, freezing pressure of a northern blizzard.
The warm atmosphere in the foyer instantly plummeted to sub-zero. The maids immediately stopped fussing, fell completely silent, and bowed deeply.
I looked up.
Standing at the top of the stairs was Count Darius Ashborne.
He was a massive, imposing man, his broad shoulders draped in a heavy wolf-fur mantle. His face was rugged and stern, marked by a jagged scar that ran over his left eye—a souvenir from a legendary battle against a Dragonkin. He radiated the overwhelming, suffocating aura of a Platinum-Rank Knight.
Darius slowly descended the stairs, his heavy boots echoing like war drums against the stone.
"I distinctly recall signing a document," Darius said, his voice cold and flat as he stopped a few feet away from us. "A document that formally exiled my disgrace of a son from this territory until he proved he was no longer a useless, arrogant brat. Tell me, Lucien. Did you get lost on your way to the slums?"
Normally, the original Lucien would have cowered in terror, stammering out pathetic excuses or throwing a tantrum before being dragged away by the guards.
I didn’t do either.
I gently stepped past my mother. I stood up perfectly straight, meeting my father’s intimidating, scarred gaze without a single flinch. I didn’t suppress my aura. I let the quiet, lethal presence of a man who had slaughtered a Desert Regent, survived the Spire, and executed a High-Ranking Demon bleed out just enough to push back against the freezing pressure of the room.
"I received a formal summons from the Countess, Lord Father," I replied. My voice was perfectly steady, carrying the cold, unshakeable discipline I had forged in the ruins. "And considering my recent accolades in the Capital, I believe the conditions of my exile are fully open to re-evaluation."
Darius’s eyes narrowed. The oppressive pressure in the room spiked aggressively as he analyzed me. He was looking for the terrified, pathetic boy he had kicked out months ago.
Instead, he found a seasoned combatant staring right back at him.
For a long, agonizing moment, the Lord of the North didn’t say a word. The silence was deafening.
Then, Lyriana aggressively stepped right between us. She planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers up at her massive husband.
"Darius Ashborne. If you try to kick my son out into the snow after he traveled all this way, you will be sleeping in the stables with the griffins for the rest of the winter. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
The terrifying Lord of the North, the Platinum-Rank Knight who made giant monsters tremble in fear, visibly stiffened.
"...I was merely asking him a question, Lyriana," Darius grunted. Though he maintained his stern scowl, the suffocating killing intent hastily vanished from the room.
"Good. Because dinner is ready, and my son is eating at the head table," she declared, turning back to me with a beaming, radiant smile as if she hadn’t just threatened the most dangerous man in the province. "Come along, Lucien. The chef made your favorite stew."
As she dragged me toward the grand dining hall by the arm, I risked a glance back over my shoulder.
Count Darius was watching me. The anger and disappointment were gone, replaced by a deep, calculating curiosity. He had realized it too.
The trash of the Ashborne family was gone. Something entirely different had come back in his place.
