Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son

Chapter 291 Main Heroines [5]

Chapter 291  Main Heroines [5]

"What defines strength?"

The question hung in the air, carried by a soft, melodic voice that commanded attention.

I sat in silence, my gaze fixed on the woman at the front of the lecture hall.

Yennefer Von Castia—our professor and a figure as intimidating as she was captivating.

She moved gracefully, pacing around the class with an air of authority.

Her long white hair, touched with a faint pink undertone, was tied neatly into a high bun, though a few loose strands framed her striking face.

She wore an elegant dress beneath a lab coat, an unusual yet captivating combination that somehow suited her perfectly.

Her sharp ember-like eyes swept over the sea of students as though she could see through every facade and mask.

Her presence alone was enough to keep the room silent, each of us waiting for her next words.

A stinging pain rushed through my finger, but I chose to ignore it.

'She is ignoring me.'

I thought, looking at her.

Contrary to my expectations, she didn't spare me a single glance.

She is taking her class normally like I never tried to ask her out.

"Pasethia," she called, gesturing toward the elven princess seated near the front.

"How much mana they have?" she replied, unsure about the answer.

"A reasonable answer." Yennefer's expression remained stoic as her eyes scanned the room. "Anyone else?"

"Race," another elven boy said, his tone smug.

"Not quite," Yennefer replied, her voice stern.

"There are countless examples of individuals you might consider 'inferior' surpassing those who are supposedly 'superior.' Strength is not determined by bloodlines or reservoirs of mana alone."

Even today, her voice was melodious, her tone sharp.

The elven boy shrank back at her words.

Elijah, sitting beside me, answered, "It's how they utilize their abilities, isn't it?"

Yennefer turned toward us, her gaze stopping on me for a second before she looked at Elijah.

"Exactly," she nodded in agreement. "It's one's ability to utilize what they have at hand."

She glanced back at the board where different runic symbols were drawn.

"In the last four months of my teaching, I hope all of you know about these runes," she said, glancing back at us. "The ten basic runic symbols for elements."

I looked up at those symbols, and the moment I did, the spectral glass registered them in a new document.

My finger twitched once again.

"Now, like I demonstrated in our first class, once you can learn them...." She raised her hand, making a runic symbol of water. "You can conjure anything in reality."

Water materialized from thin air, splashing onto the ground with a light ripple.

'Anything is an overstatement.'

I thought, rubbing my chin as I looked at her.

Like El told me, there are several restrictions on using runes.

One of them is affinity.

If one have low affinity toward water, then by no means can one use its runic symbol.

Yennefer looked around the place before she continued. "Anyway, as I was saying, if you are up against someone stronger than you but have better abilities, then your chances of winning increase by a lot."

She raised her hand, weaving together three distinct runes in mid-air.

Their glow intensified, merging into a single crimson symbol.

"Runes are one of the most important components of rituals," she said, while the runes in the air turned crimson. "And like most of you know, Von Castias are inherently better in rituals."

"A ritual can be destructive, yes," she murmured, as the glowing crimson symbol shifted into the form of a small bird. "But it can also be something beautiful."

The bird flitted through the room, its glowing wings casting faint red light over the students.

It hovered briefly in front of me before flying back to Yennefer's desk.

"But that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous," she mumbled.

The bird lunged itself into the teacher's desk, and the moment it collided, the desk dissolved, turning into dust.

"It all depends on how you use it." Her voice was calm, almost detached. "Now, can anyone tell me the difference between curses and ritual marks?"

A girl raised her hand.

'Isn't she Elise?'

Curiously, I studied her.

Her jet-black hair, cut to just brush her shoulders, framed her pale face—like paper, unmistakably marking her lineage as a Vampire.

But it was her eyes that truly caught my attention.

They glowed a vivid green, like orbs.

She is a [Sub Heroine] of the second game.

"Yes, Elise," Yennefer gestured toward her.

"Ritual marks can't be removed," Elise said confidently.

"Not entirely true," Yennefer corrected, shaking her head. "It is difficult, yes, but not impossible."

'Urgh.'

I groaned inwardly, my attention shifting back to the pain in my finger.

Two small puncture marks remained where Siersha had bitten me earlier.

'I fucking hate this.'

Even though I felt better than ever, thanks to the life energy she'd transferred to me, frustration simmered inside me.

My mind felt foggy, and even though I tried my best to ignore it...

'Fuck. Why is my body getting affected by poison?'

I groaned inwardly, leaning against the chair.

[<It's not poison, and instead of harming you, it's relaxing your body>]

'....'

Fuck those Vampires.

Their saliva really works well as an aphrodisiac.

I rubbed my sweaty palms as I glanced at the culprit for my condition.

She sat along with Zenith, her face the same as usual.

'Why am I the only one affected by it?'

I thought, glaring at her.

My head buzzed as I let out a tired sigh, granting me curious glances from the boys sitting beside me.

"Himmel," Aimar whispered, his voice oddly cold.

"What?" I asked, glancing at him.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a harsh growl. "Why are you hard?"

I looked down and found something bulging in my pants.

"....."

I awkwardly shifted in my seat, trying to adjust myself without drawing attention.

Aimar kept on glaring at me like I am the biggest piece of shit.

"Wait, it's not because of Yennefer—."

"Pffft."

Elijah let out a muffled laugh, earning a glare from me.

Amaury and Carson weirdly looked at me.

"Kill yourself," Aimar snarled, glaring daggers at me.

I could only shut my mouth in embarrassment.

"Why are you hard anyway?" Amaury asked curiously.

"So you suck it, fucking dog," I snapped, glaring at him.

"That's gay," Carson commented while Amaury glared at me.

"Shut up, Dickson."

"What's going on there?" A soft voice echoed within the hall.

My stomach twisted into knots as her sharp ember-like eyes looked at me.

"Himmel wants to ask something, professor," Amaury chimed in before I could speak.

I glared at the wolf, who flashed his teeth toward me.

"Stand up, Himmel," Yennefer said, looking at me. "Ask your doubt."

"Um, can't I just—"

"Stand up," she firmly said.

I awkwardly started to stand up, but thankfully Yennefer noticed something.

Her expression faltered before she quickly said, "Never mind, remain seated."

I sank back into my seat, feeling a rush of heat reaching my face.

"What's your doubt?" Yennefer asked, looking at me coldly.

"Uh, ahem." I cleared my throat before I asked, "What's your favorite food?"

"...."

A stunned silence followed.

And then—

"Pfft—!" Elijah's poorly suppressed laughter broke through.

He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, but his shaking shoulders gave him away.

RINGGG!!!

The bell saved me, signaling the end of class.

I sank lower in my seat, groaning as I buried my face in my arms.

'What are the chances that she didn't notice my bon—'

[<She definitely did>]

'Fuck.'

Someone kill me.

"Himmel."

My body jerked back as I heard Yennefer's voice.

"Come out," she said, walking out of the class.

"...."

I quietly stood up, slowly walking toward the door.

Thankfully, the previous embarrassment was enough for my boner to calm down.

As soon as I walked out, I found her standing close to the window.

She had undone her high bun, letting her hair fall freely.

"What was that in the morning?" she asked as I stood closer. "Care to explain yourself?"

I stood in front of her while my gaze shifted toward the students peeking out of the class.

Zenith, of course, looked like she was enjoying this far too much.

Yennefer sighed and reached to gather her hair into a ponytail, but I impulsively raised a hand. "Wait. Don't."

Her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You look... beautiful with your hair down," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

But my words died down as she glared at me.

She let her hair fall back naturally, her expression softening ever so slightly as her gaze drifted to my chest.

I followed her gaze, finding her looking at my necklace.

"Where did you get this from?" she asked, raising her hand and touching it gently.

"It's mine," I replied, with a light smile.

Yennefer grabbed it from the side before she applied gentle pressure.

The necklace snapped open.

"You broke it.... huh!?"

My words halted abruptly as I looked at the necklace.

Inside it, there was a photo of a small child....

"That's me?" I mumbled, looking at a little boy laughing.

But something felt odd.

The photo looked incomplete for some reason.

Her lips quirked into a faint, almost wistful smile. "Is Himmel your real name?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Her hand unexpectedly ruffled my hair, and her smile brightened—a sight so rare it left me frozen in place. "I'm glad you're doing well."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving me stunned.

I quietly glanced back at Zenith.

The look on her face was priceless.

******

A girl's faint, breathless moan echoed through the dimly lit room.

The sound echoed where four boys kneeled with their heads bowed so low it seemed as though they were afraid to even breathe.

Standing before them was a tall boy, his broad shoulders draped in a luxurious bathrobe.

His long silver hair cascaded down his back.

He poured wine into a crystal glass before he lifted it to his lips.

Slowly, he sank into an elegant chair that looked as if it belonged to a throne room rather than this dormitory room.

His sharp crimson eyes bore into the kneeling boys, while his other hand idly brushed against the sharp onyx horns protruding from his head.

"I told you to send someone capable," a boy sitting beside him grumbled. "But you had to send these worthless halves."

"Vlad." The boy said, his voice deep, unlike his young age. "There is a difference between being cautious and being stupid."

He sipped his wine again. "What you advised was stupid."

Vlad Von Casita looked at him dismissively. "Does it change anything? You still couldn't bring him here."

Lysander quietly looked at the halves trembling in his presence.

After a slight pause, he asked, "....Why did Mariam do that?"

"Hm?"

"Making a nobody the heir of Segyal Highbloods," he said, leaning on the chair. "Isn't Nymeria a better choice?"

"I don't know." Vlad replied frustratingly. "Grandfather refused to elaborate on this matter."

"Funny." Lysander quietly replied. "My grandfather does the same."

"What are you going to do now?" Vlad asked, staring at the young man. "Your dream to conquer Segyal Highbloods seems distant."

"That nobody's presence isn't going to change anything," he replied calmly to his taunting words. "Segyal Highbloods will be mine sooner than later."

"We will see." Vlad scoffed, gazing back at the bed.

A naked girl moaned, lying there with her hands tied up behind her back.

Her lower body spasmed from time to time.

"Tch." Vlad clicked his tongue in annoyance before he looked at the kneeling boys. "What are you going to do with them?"

Lysander also looked at them, taking a sip of his wine. He whispered, "Who was leading you?"

The meadow-green-eyed boy slowly raised his trembling hand.

Lysander took out a knife from his bracelet, throwing it toward him.

"Take responsibility for your failure," he said, looking down at him.

The boy trembled violently, glancing between the knife and Lysander.

The boy's eyes widened in horror. "M-My lord, please—"

"I don't want to hear excuses." He cut in sharply. "Kill yourself, now."

The boy slowly raised his trembling hands to reach for the knife.

Gripping the knife, the boy slowly raised it toward his throat.

"Stop," Lysander said, standing up.

The boy let out a sigh of relief as Lysander walked toward him.

He squatted down, taking the knife away from him.

"You've shown your loyalty," Lysander murmured. "There's no need for you to die."

"T-Thank you—"

Slash.

His grateful words turned into choking as Lysander slit his throat in an instant.

He blankly stared at the boy, who clenched his throat, trying to stop the bleeding.

Blood spilled freely, pooling around his lifeless body.

Lysander stood, wiping the blade clean as though nothing had happened. "Inform his family that he was killed by the heir of Segyal Highbloods over a minor dispute."

"Y-yes," they stammered, nodding.

Lysander turned around.

"Lirien will gladly become a witness if needed. Spread the word of the new heir's cruelty. Make sure it reaches every half-blood outside this academy."

"Y-yes, my lord."

Shrugging off his robe as he walked toward the bed. "And," he added coolly,

"let them know the heir of Asura Highbloods will always be there... to help."