Reincarnated As A First Rate Villain: I Don't Know How To Play My Role-Chapter 41

Lucien stirred as a gentle nudge roused him from slumber. His senses, sluggish from rest, began to realign as the familiar scent of lavender and warm linen washed over him. Slowly, his eyelids lifted, revealing the soft, warm glow of a lantern-lit interior. The carriage was cloaked in the velvety hush of night, shadows dancing across the polished wood and golden embroidery that decorated its luxurious interior. Hovering gently above him was a familiar face.

"Young Master... we’re here," Marie said softly, her voice like a breeze brushing against his thoughts. Her shoulder-length brown hair fell slightly to one side as she leaned forward, her brown eyes warm and filled with affection, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.

Lucien blinked slowly. His lips parted slightly, but before he could form a question, Marie beat him to it.

"We stopped at the same inn we used before. Knight Rex said it would be best for you to sleep properly in a bed and eat something warm before we continue the journey to the estate."

Lucien yawned gently, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, a few stray tears welling in the corners of his eyes from the stretch of his jaw. He blinked them away and nodded slowly, his voice groggy. "Alright... sounds good."

Marie smiled at him fondly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as she helped guide his drowsy body toward the carriage door. Lucien stepped down, stretching his arms upward until his back gave a satisfying pop. The night air embraced him with a crisp coolness, brushing past his skin with gentle insistence. The scent of moist earth and faint pine lingered on the wind, the rustling of leaves adding an organic rhythm to the silence.

Above him, the night sky was a breathtaking canvas. Twin moons hovered in the sky—one pale blue, the other a soft silver—casting a muted light that mingled with the glittering field of stars. It felt like the heavens themselves were watching in quiet reverence.

Lucien let out a long exhale, smiling faintly. "It really is beautiful tonight."

Marie, standing just a step behind, smiled in agreement but said nothing, her eyes focused more on Lucien than the night. She brushed an invisible wrinkle from her dress and clasped her hands together, sneaking occasional glances at his refined profile.

A short distance away, Knight Rex was speaking in hushed tones to the remaining A-rank knights. Their dark armor reflected slivers of moonlight, and the dark-flamed horses snorted quietly as they were led behind the inn to be watered and stabled. Rex was instructing them to carefully secure the carriages in the lodging’s protected rear courtyard.

Lucien’s eyes tracked the activity with idle curiosity until he frowned slightly.

"Where’s the sixth knight?" he asked, turning toward Rex as the older man approached.

Rex, now standing before him with a calm and respectful demeanor, bowed his head slightly. "He rode ahead earlier, Young Master, to inform the estate of our arrival."

Lucien nodded slowly, murmuring, "Reasonable..."

Marie stood beside him, her presence quiet but unmistakably attentive. Her eyes lingered on Lucien’s face with soft admiration. The transformation in him—his taller stature, matured features, and undeniable handsomeness—still left her slightly flustered. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear to distract herself.

"Come," Rex said gently. "Let us go inside. Warm food and a bed will do wonders."

The trio moved forward, their boots softly crunching against gravel as they approached the inn. The wooden structure glowed invitingly under the moonlight, its lanterns swaying gently and casting golden light onto the porch. A soft murmur of voices and clinking dishes filtered from within, promising comfort and temporary peace from the storm of the system’s collapse.

Lucien glanced once more at the starry sky before stepping into the doorway, feeling the warmth of hearth and home welcome him in.

The inn wasn’t extravagant, but it stood tall and wide at the edge of the bustling midwall district—a place of transit and temporary respite. Constructed with gray-stone cement for the outer walls and thick timber for the interiors, it had a solid, time-worn presence. Warm golden light from enchanted wall sconces spilled across polished wooden floors, and the scent of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and tangy herbs wafted thick through the air. Though modest in decor, it was welcoming.

Inside the common hall, a tide of noise rolled and splashed like waves upon a lively shore. Human adventurers, merchants, and traders clustered at tables under the high wooden ceiling, clinking tankards, sharing laughter, and biting into steaming food. The sound of chairs scraping, ale sloshing into mugs, and bursts of stories filled the air.

"And then I told the wyvern, ’Come at me, featherbrain!’" boomed a loud, bald adventurer with an eye patch, earning a hearty laugh from his tablemates.

"You’re lying again, Reig! You screamed and ran when it flapped its wings!"

"A tactical retreat, Marlen! You know, draw it out into the open, like a proper strategist."

"More like a scared chicken."

Laughter rang out again.

At another table, a young merchant was nervously recounting his first trade deal in the capital.

"I swear, he looked at the silk, then at me, then back at the silk. And for a moment, I thought I was going to be arrested for fraud."

"Did you sell it?"

"Sold it for twice the price, actually. Turns out, it was royal-quality from Vesperia. The client tipped me with a ring."

"That explains the wine you ordered."

But among the loud and chaotic banter, a sudden hush trickled like a cold breeze. It began with one adventurer who paused mid-laugh, his face frozen. His friend, noticing, frowned.

"Hey, what’s with the face? Why—"

Then he too followed the gaze.

There, stepping through the threshold of the common hall, was a figure who seemed carved from celestial marble. A boy, tall for his age, draped in a simple white robe, with silver hair catching the candlelight and eyes that shimmered with an unnatural beauty. His face—regal, poised, and hauntingly perfect—stunned even those hardened by battlefield gore and tavern brawls. Elves, famed for their aesthetic perfection, were suddenly second best in everyone’s imagination.

Lucien.

He blinked at the silent stares. Discomfort crawled up his neck. Maid Marie, always watching him from the corner of her eye, noticed the tension in his brow. She leaned slightly toward Knight Rex and gave a subtle nudge.

Rex caught the hint. He sighed, cleared his throat dramatically, and let slip a whisper of his aura. Not enough to harm, but enough to press on every nerve in the room.

A shudder passed through the tavern. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

The adventurers stiffened, returning quickly to their meals and drinks as if nothing had happened. One even faked a loud laugh to mask the silence.

"Anyway! As I was saying, the ogre had three heads! Three! And they all snored at different pitches."

Knight Rex gave Lucien a look of mock frustration. "Really, young master. You’re going to get us into trouble just by walking into places with that face of yours."

Lucien glanced away, his expression sheepish. "They’re just overreacting. It’s just a face."

Marie giggled softly. "It’s not just a face, young master."

They sat at an open table by the stone fireplace. A boy, no older than thirteen, approached with slight nervousness. His uniform apron was too big, sleeves rolled up several times, and he held out the menu with trembling hands.

"G-Good evening, guests. Here is your menu. Please take your time."

"Thank you," Knight Rex said politely, relieving the boy of the menus. The child bowed, cheeks flushed, and scurried off.

Lucien picked through the modest list—roasted pheasant, honey-baked bread, root vegetable stew, goat cheese and apple pie. Though a little bit sad that there was no magic beast meat—He picked the stew and pie. Marie and Rex followed suit.

Before long, the five remaining A-rank knights stepped in from the night air. Rex gave them a curt nod. They dispersed to other tables and flagged down the boy for their own meals.

Silence lingered at their table until Rex leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"Young master, now that you’ve had some time since the awakening, have you felt anything? Any pull inside you? A warmth, a coldness? Any... clarity?"

Marie leaned in as well, curiosity sparkling in her soft brown eyes.

Lucien closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. He tried to focus, to reach inward—into the new, unknown depths awakened within him. But what he found was a fog of confusion. No fire, no storm, no voice. Just stillness.

After a minute, he opened his eyes and exhaled.

"I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "It feels... unfamiliar. I can tell something’s there. But I don’t know what it is."

Rex nodded thoughtfully. "That’s normal. Some awakenings are loud and violent. Others are silent and deep, like rivers underground. You’ll know in time."

Marie offered a gentle smile. "We believe in you, young master. Whatever it is, it’s yours."

Their food arrived, breaking the tension. Warm bowls, fragrant and simple. The three of them ate, mostly in silence, grateful for the warmth.

Once the meal was done, Rex stood, retrieving something from his belt.

"Here," he said, handing Lucien a brass key attached to a leather strap. "Room eleven. Marie’s is right beside it. Get some proper rest. The knights and I will keep watch."

Lucien accepted the key. "You’re not sleeping?"

"We take turns. You rest. That’s an order."

Marie stood as well. "Good luck, Sir Rex."

Rex grinned, saluting casually. "Don’t let him stay up reading."

Together, Lucien and Marie ascended the wooden stairs, their footsteps quiet against the creaking boards. The hallway above was lined with simple doors, each marked with iron-plated numbers.

Lucien found room eleven. As he turned the key, he looked back at Marie.

"Let me help you find your room too, Marie."

She smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks. "I already found it. I was just waiting for you to find yours first."

Lucien sighed. "Again? You don’t need to do that every time. Treat yourself a little, too."

Marie bowed her head lightly. "It is my duty to serve you, young master."

He smiled tiredly. "Then thank you. And... good night."

"Good night, young master."

With that, the hallway dimmed as both retreated into their rooms, the warmth of the hearth below still lingering in the walls, and the murmurs of laughter and steel below fading slowly into the night.