A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

After breakfast ended, Andras parted ways with Evelyne and made his way back toward his chambers.

The corridors of the Darkmoor Estate were calm at this hour. Sunlight streamed through the towering windows, illuminating the polished black marble floors beneath his feet. Servants moved about quietly, lowering their heads as he passed.

Andras paid them little attention.

His thoughts remained occupied by the events of the morning.

The duel.

Jack’s death.

His newly fused talent.

And most importantly, the realization of how much stronger he still needed to become.

Eventually, he reached his room.

The heavy door closed behind him with a soft click.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he crossed the chamber and lowered himself onto the bed. The soft mattress welcomed him immediately.

Although his body had recovered from the battle, the intense spar against Selene had left behind a lingering fatigue.

Not physical exhaustion.

Mental exhaustion.

Fighting someone vastly stronger than himself demanded complete concentration.

For several moments, he simply stared at the ceiling.

Then—

Knock.

Knock.

A familiar voice sounded from outside.

”Young Master, may I enter?”

Andras didn’t need to guess who it was.

”Come in.”

The door opened almost immediately.

Lyra hurried into the room.

The moment she stepped inside, she walked directly toward him.

Without asking permission, she began carefully examining his arms, shoulders, and neck.

Andras watched her in silence for a few moments before finally speaking.

”What exactly are you doing?”

Lyra froze.

Then she looked up at him.

”I heard the other maids talking,” she admitted.

”And?”

”They said you fought a captain this morning.”

Her voice grew softer.

”And that you killed him.”

Her eyes moved across his body once more.

”I thought you might have been injured.”

Andras stared at her for a second before letting out a quiet laugh.

”So that’s what this is about.”

He leaned back against the bed.

”I killed him quickly.”

His tone remained calm and indifferent.

”He wasn’t strong enough to injure me.”

Relief immediately appeared on Lyra’s face.

The tension that had been visible in her shoulders finally disappeared.

Only then did she step back.

Andras noticed the change instantly.

Interesting.

She truly had been worried.

Not about the captain.

Not about the consequences.

Not about noble politics.

Only about him.

It was a simple emotion.

Easy to understand.

Yet strangely distant.

Andras quietly studied her.

Back on Earth, Alex had spent years observing people.

He understood emotions.

He could recognize them.

Predict them.

Manipulate them if necessary.

But experiencing them himself had always been another matter entirely.

Watching Lyra’s concern fade into relief created a faint sense of curiosity within him.

Could he ever feel something like that?

Could there be an emotion strong enough to reach him?

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Only time would tell.

Eventually, he dismissed the thought.

”Lyra.”

”Yes, Young Master?”

”I’ve just finished breakfast and training.”

He closed his eyes.

”Bring me a bottle of rum.”

Lyra hesitated.

A trace of concern flashed across her face.

Recently, Andras had been drinking far more often than before.

She wanted to say something.

To suggest he rest instead.

But the words never left her mouth.

She knew his personality.

Arguing would accomplish nothing.

”As you wish, Young Master.”

She bowed lightly before leaving the room.

A short while later, she returned carrying a dark glass bottle and a crystal drinking glass.

After receiving permission, she entered once more and placed both items on the table beside him.

Andras uncorked the bottle.

The rich scent of aged rum immediately filled the room.

He poured a glass.

Then another.

Then another.

The warmth of the alcohol spread steadily through his body.

Not enough to dull his thoughts.

Just enough to soften the sharp edges of constant calculation.

By the time the bottle was empty, the afternoon sun had begun descending toward the western horizon.

Andras placed the empty bottle aside.

Then he glanced toward Lyra.

”Wake me when it’s time for lunch.”

”Of course, Young Master.”

Soon afterward, sleep claimed him.

---

The following days passed quietly.

A rare period of peace settled over the Darkmoor Estate.

Each morning followed a familiar rhythm.

On some days, Andras spent hours inside the estate library.

Ancient books filled with magical theory, imperial history, noble politics, and forgotten wars gradually expanded his understanding of the world.

Other days were devoted entirely to training.

Swordsmanship.

Mana control.

Combat exercises.

Meditation.

Refining his mastery over Echo Resonance and Warborn Limit Release.

His progress was steady.

Not explosive.

Not miraculous.

Simply consistent.

And consistency often produced greater results than talent alone.

Breakfast.

Training.

Lunch.

Study.

Dinner.

Rest.

The cycle repeated itself day after day.

The servants quickly adapted to the routine.

Lyra remained at his side throughout it all.

Preparing meals.

Managing his schedule.

Assisting with whatever he required.

Andras never commented on it.

Yet her presence gradually became something familiar.

A constant within his daily life.

Three days passed in this manner.

The peaceful routine continued uninterrupted.

Yet Andras knew it wouldn’t last forever.

The story was moving forward.

Even when nothing appeared to be happening.

Seraphina Valebright would arrive soon.

The imperial celebration approached.

And Ambrose Academy would eventually reopen its gates.

The calm before a storm was still calm.

But it remained temporary.

---

On the fourth morning—

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Andras slowly opened his eyes.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

For a moment, he remained motionless.

Then a familiar voice sounded from beyond the door.

”Andras.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Evelyne.

”I trust you’re awake.”

A faint smile appeared on his face.

His mother rarely visited this early without reason.

Which meant something important had happened.

Or perhaps—

Something important was about to happen.

Andras slowly sat up.

The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly.

The quiet days were finally coming to an end.