Villain's Path System-Chapter 48: Unexpected visit

Lucian’s eyes lingered on one specific slot, total Fate Points.

1,286.

That was enough to... what? Buy information? Unlock skills? There had to be options he hadn’t explored yet.

He navigated to the system shop, curious despite his exhaustion.

A new interface materialized.

[FATE POINT SHOP]

INFORMATION:

Reveal Curse Caster Identity: 100 FP

Unlock Hidden Quest Line: 200 FP

Character Background (Any NPC): 50 FP

Future Plot Event Hint: 150 FP

SKILLS (COMBAT):

Enhanced Reflexes (Passive): 200 FP

Danger Sense (Passive): 300 FP

Combat Prediction (Active): 500 FP

Blade Mastery (Basic): 400 FP

SKILLS (UTILITY):

Memory Palace (Perfect Recall): 400 FP

Linguistic Intuition: 250 FP

Social Engineering Mastery: 350 FP

Stealth Enhancement: 300 FP

SKILLS (MAGICAL):

Mana Efficiency Boost: 300 FP

Spell Analysis: 400 FP

Elemental Affinity (Choose One): 500 FP

Mana Reinforcement: 450 FP

SPECIAL:

Minor Luck Manipulation: 800 FP

Temporal Awareness (Limited): 1,200 FP

Fate Thread Vision: 1,000 FP

Lucian stared at the list.

Temporal Awareness.

His eyes locked onto that entry.

Limited time perception. Enhanced reaction speed during critical moments. Allows user to process information faster in combat scenarios.

Cost: 1,200 FP.

That was... almost everything he had.

But the ability to slow his perception during fights? To think faster, react quicker, turn his already decent strategic mind into something that could actually keep up with people who had real combat training?

That could be the difference between life and death.

Tempting. Very tempting.

But something held him back.

His eyes drifted to the top of the list.

Reveal Curse Caster Identity: 100 FP.

Just 100 points. Barely a dent in his total.

He could know. Right now. The bastard who stole his talent eight years ago. The one who cursed a ten-year-old child and destroyed his future.

His finger hovered over the option.

Do it. Just fucking do it. Find out who destroyed you.

But then what?

He was still First Stage. Barely functional magically. A D-rank student with decent strategy and exactly zero power to back it up.

If the person who cursed him was powerful enough to steal a child’s magical potential without getting caught, they were probably powerful enough to crush him like a bug if he came asking questions.

Knowledge is useless if I’m too weak to act on it.

Lucian exhaled slowly and closed the shop interface.

Not tonight.

He was too exhausted to make smart decisions right now. Too drained. His brain was running on fumes and spite.

*I’ll come back to this tomorrow. When I’m actually thinking clearly.*

He’d buy information when he could handle knowing. Right now? Finding out who cursed him would just fuel anxiety he couldn’t do anything about. Rage with nowhere to go.

And without power—without even basic strength to defend himself—that knowledge would eat him alive faster than the curse draining his life.

And about the Temporal Awareness skill?

Also tempting. But 1,200 FP was almost everything. If he spent it now, he’d be broke. No emergency funds. or backup plan.

Tomorrow. He’d review everything tomorrow. Make strategic choices instead of impulsive ones.

Sleep first. Think later.

*I’m supposed to be the smart one. So act like it and don’t blow 1,286 FP while brain-dead.*

Better to save it. Build up reserves. Make purchases when he could actually think straight.

He let his head fall back against the pillow. And took a long sigh.

Eighteen days.

Almost three weeks.

It had only been 18 days since he’d arrived at this academy.

And in that time, he’d been: falsely accused, attacked by a shadow assassin twice, discovered a heroine’s bloodline curse, gotten way too close to his shameless S-rank mentor, and somehow gained the loyalty of Seraphina Ashenblade.

If this is the pace for this much time, I’m going to be dead by graduation.

Still. Progress was progress.

40% mana capacity unlocked. More than triple what he’d started with. And Villain’s Gaze—some fusion of his old skills.

*I’ll figure out what it does tomorrow. When I’m not half-dead.*

He dismissed the notification and let his eyes drift shut.

Just five minutes. That’s all he needed. Five minutes of not thinking about—

Shit.

His eyes snapped open.

Aria.

The study session. He was supposed to meet her this afternoon. Hours ago. While he was stuck in bureaucratic hell. And he’d completely forgotten.

Again.

"Fuck," he muttered into the empty room.

That was... what, the fourth time? Fifth? He’d lost count.

Poor girl was probably sitting there with her books and her puffed cheeks, wondering why the hell she kept giving him chances.

Maybe she’ll understand. I mean, I was literally clearing my name with the administration. That’s a pretty valid excuse, right?

Even in his own head, it sounded weak.

*Or maybe she’s finally given up. Moved on to someone who actually shows up.*

*Fuck that.*

*I need her trust. Her connection. Can’t afford to lose ground with her—not when Cassian’s already circling.*

I’ll make it up to her. Tomorrow. I’ll find her first thing and actually apologize like a functional human being instead of a emotionally-stunted disaster.

...Probably.

He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.

*Get it together, Valemont. You’re supposed to be good at this. Reading people. Saying the right things. So why does apologizing to one saint feel harder than manipulating a noble into public confession?*

Because she actually matters.

He shoved that thought away before it could finish forming.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three soft, precise taps on his door.

Lucian froze.

It was late. Past midnight, definitely. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

He pushed himself up, walked to the door, and opened it.

Silver-white hair gleamed in the dim corridor light. Ice-blue eyes met his with calm curiosity.

Elira Frostveil stood in the hallway.