I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 102: Commotion at the Portal

Ashok leaned back, his gaze steady and calm as he watched the scenery shift outside the carriage window.

The towering walls that marked the boundary of the Duke's grand estate receded into the distance, giving way to the bustling streets of the Southern Duchy's marketplace. The atmosphere changed instantly.

Unlike the serene and imposing aura of the mansion's grounds, the market hummed with the vibrant energy of trade and chatter.

The carriage's pace slowed noticeably as it entered the streets of the market, its grandeur making normal travel impossible.

The Duke's carriage, a magnificent behemoth compared to the typical carriages of merchants and travelers, commanded attention without effort.

Whenever it approached, the drivers of smaller carriages instinctively maneuvered to the side of the road, offering passage to the Duke's unrivaled symbol of authority and wealth. To the locals, this wasn't an inconvenience—it was a mark of their deep respect and reverence for the Southern Duke.

From his vantage point within the carriage, Ashok couldn't help but notice the expressions of those in the market. Faces turned, gazes lifted, and admiration sparkled in the eyes of the Duchy's citizens.

These were not mere glances of curiosity; they carried a quiet acknowledgment of the Duke's standing and significance. The people of the Southern Duchy held their ruler in high esteem—a sentiment that radiated through the unspoken gestures and subdued murmurs as the carriage rolled past.

Ashok watching the gazes of onlookers from behind the twindows of the carriage. The admiration of the public was palpable, their eyes fixed on the ornate design and the unmistakable insignia of the Southern Duke emblazoned on the sides.

Yet his False Monarch trait didn't activate.

'It must be that perception-blocking barrier. These people probably think I'm the Duke himself, gracing the market with his grand presence. I wonder what their expression will be once they see me step out.' he thought with a smirk on his face.

The journey to the Warp Portal wasn't far, and the market's vibrant energy swirled around the carriage, punctuated by bustling merchants and curious onlookers.

Normally, carriages adhered to strict parking regulations, stopping at designated zones a certain distance from the portal itself. But, as Ashok well knew, VIPs like the Duke enjoyed a different set of rules.

The Duke's carriage rolled across the invisible boundary, an area reserved only for the elite, and continued directly to the portal entrance.

Cassius maneuvered the massive carriage with skill that betrayed years of expertise. It glided smoothly through the crowded streets, bypassing the clutter of regular carriages. With a calculated flourish, Cassius brought it to a gentle stop, perfectly aligned with the entrance to the Warp Portal.

Outside the carriage, the air around the portal buzzed with anticipation. A Yellow Robed Mage, his status as an SS Rank unmistakable in the commanding aura he exuded, stood beside his subordinate, a Green Robed Mage of S Rank.

The moment the Duke's carriage breached the boundary of the portal, they both sensed its presence.

When the Yellow Robed Mage's eyes landed on the Duke's insignia proudly displayed on the carriage, his thoughts immediately sharpened. Wasting no time, he sent a telepathic message to his subordinate.

'What are you standing here for? Go greet the Duke the moment he gets off the carriage.' The unspoken urgency in his mental command sent the Green Robed Mage scrambling into action.

Under normal circumstances, even a figure from the Imperial Family wouldn't command this level of formal reception. But this wasn't an ordinary circumstance, and the Duke wasn't an ordinary individual.

His support of the Magic Tower, supplying essential resources at market price, wasn't lost on the Yellow Robed Mage. While the arrangement might seem transactional to outsiders, the Mage knew better—those resources kept the Tower's operations running smoothly during leaner times.

And, as a high-ranking mage privy to the undercurrents of power, he was well aware that the Tower was in a precarious state, and the elders themselves refused to disclose the reason behind it.

"Who knows?" the Yellow Robed Mage mused as he watched his subordinate hustle toward the carriage gates. "If the Duke's in a generous mood, perhaps I can maneuver this small act of courtesy into securing a meeting with him. That alone could open many doors."

As the subordinate mage neared the carriage, he straightened his robes and quickly composed himself.

Cassius had already discerned the Yellow Robed Mage's intentions behind his stoic demeanor. Yet, instead of intervening, he chose silence.

He found a quiet amusement in letting events unfold naturally—anticipating the inevitable reactions that were about to follow.

With a flicker of light, the gates of the grand carriage opened, revealing a staircase of radiant energy that manifested gracefully, descending to the ground below. The scene itself was grand enough to catch the attention of bystanders.

A small crowd had already started gathering, their curiosity piqued by the spectacle. Whispers rippled through the market as people nudged each other and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the Duke.

The air hummed with anticipation—it felt like the arrival of royalty.

As the murmurs grew louder, Ashok took his first step down from the carriage. A faint shimmer passed his vision, accompanied by a familiar notification:

[Attention Level: Maximum]

[False Monarch]

Ashok, unperturbed by the message, thought to himself, 'At this point, I'm not even surprised anymore.' With calm confidence, he continued his descent. His movements carried the poised grace of a king, his steps measured and deliberate.

The Green Robed Mage, brimming with confidence, had amplified his voice with mana, extending a hand in a formal gesture.

His greeting began smoothly, "We welcome the Duke of the…"—only for his sentence to falter mid-air as his eyes landed on a kid stepping out of the carriage, clad in the unmistakable uniform of the Academy.

The dignified expectancy on his face melted into utter confusion.

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Ashok descended the radiant steps with an air of authority, his gaze settling briefly on the outstretched hand.

Completely unaware of the welcoming speech due to the [False Monarch] notification flashing before him, he acted purely on instinct.

Without missing a beat, he commanded in a resonant tone that echoed throughout the gathering, "Get lost! I don't carry change." His words were sharp, concise, and, judging by the effect, thoroughly disruptive.

"…"

"…"

"…"

The entire scene froze. The Green Robed Mage's extended hand hung in the air awkwardly, unacknowledged.

The surrounding crowd, initially gathered to admire the Duke's arrival, was silenced into a collective stupor. Even the Yellow Robed Mage's calculating expression faltered, momentarily betraying his surprise.

There was an unspoken tension in the air—a moment of disbelief that stretched just long enough to feel both absurd and hilarious.

Ashok, unfazed, strode past the stunned mage without so much as a glance, his gait effortlessly exuding the commanding confidence of a ruler.

The Green Robed Mage stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just unfolded before him.

One moment, he was preparing to deliver a grand welcome fit for the Duke himself, and the next, an unknown kid in Academy uniform had stepped out of the opulent carriage, dismissing him as if he were a common beggar.

Dumbfounded, he found himself staring helplessly at the retreating figure of Ashok, who was striding confidently toward the portal's entrance, utterly unbothered by the chaos he'd left in his wake.

Meanwhile, perched in his seat on the carriage, Cassius couldn't suppress a low chuckle. His lips curled into a faint smile as he thought, 'This is going to be interesting. I wonder how the Academy plans to deal with this kid.'

His amusement was tinged with anticipation, fully aware of the ripples Ashok was likely to cause.

As the Green Robed Mage's shock began to morph into anger, he stepped forward, preparing to raise his voice in protest. But before a single word escaped his lips, a sharp telepathic command from his senior rang in his mind.

'Don't you dare raise your voice. Don't even think of speaking another word. Go back to your work. I'll handle this from here.'

The mage froze mid-step, his jaw tightening in frustration. With no choice but to comply, he turned away, his movements stiff and reluctant.

Even though the majority of his face was obscured by his green robes, the remaining visible half betrayed an expression of pure humiliation.

To make matters worse, faint whispers from the gathered crowd reached his ears—a chorus of poorly concealed snickers and murmured jabs at his expense. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to swallow his anger and retreat to his post.

Before Ashok could reach the grand entrance of the portal, Cassius moved with the precision appearing before the Yellow Robed Mage in the blink of an eye. Without a word, he smoothly retrieved a gleaming gold coin from his pocket and offered it forward—it was the required fee for using the portal.

The Yellow Robed Mage, visibly surprised at the gesture, raised a hand in polite refusal. "There is no need for such money for a guest of the Duke," he said, his tone respectful, as if compensating for the awkwardness of denying payment.

Cassius, however, was unyielding, his voice calm yet firm as he replied, "The Southern Duchy has a policy of not incurring meaningless debts." There was no room for negotiation in his words, a quiet yet unshakable assertion of the Duchy's principles.

The mage hesitated for a moment but decided not to argue further. Accepting the coin with a nod, he finally asked, "Where to?"

Before Cassius could respond, Ashok's voice rang out behind him, steady and precise, as he closed the remaining distance to the entrance. "The Academy," he said, his gaze direct and his tone authoritative.