Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

The cold air of the night brushed against her exposed arms as she walked towards the meeting point.

Before she came, she burned the note so there was no evidence left behind. Everything was stored in her memory, so there was no need to keep it.

Freya stood in the center of the courtyard. It was eerie to say the least. It was also a lot smaller than Freya had expected. Four stone pillars enclosed it completely, cutting off any view of the surroundings. Courtyards were meant for privacy... yet this one felt stripped somehow.

There wasn’t much decoration or furniture; it was so eerily empty.

At the center was a fountain, just tall enough to conceal a crouched figure. The water was no longer flowing, and the basin was slightly cracked, but still intact.

Despite herself, a sense of unease settled into Freya’s stomach. Her assassins were surrounding the courtyard, ready to strike at any notice. She could feel their presence. She was safe.

She was in control.

Yet the unease would not go away.

Crack.

Suddenly, a sound of a twig breaking was heard, and she instantly turned.

There stood a man. He was tall, around 188-190 centimeters. He was wearing a sophisticated outfit, and he had on a mask. She couldn’t identify the mask immediately, but as he stepped closer, he saw it.

It was a hare.

Her face scrunched in confusion, and her unease started to shift and die down. This was not what she had expected.

"You came," the man said. His voice was smooth and controlled, yet slightly distorted. "I’m pleasantly surprised, heir of the Lockhart branch family, Freya Lockhart."

Freya silently sneered at the reminder.

"I came alone, just like you asked," she said.

The man walked closer, and he was now a few feet away from her. However, despite this, Freya didn’t feel threatened. Her assassins all had sights on the man, and she was certain that while he was mysterious, he was not powerful enough to fight them all off.

The rabbit mask shifted slightly, and she could hear a hum from behind it. Then he looked around the courtyard randomly, turning around once to get a full look.

"Looks like you did," the man said. "You came alone as requested."

"Why would I lie?" Freya asked with a smile. "So, Masked Man... What did you call me here for?"

She had to take control of the situation.

Another hum came from behind the mask.

"Can I ask you a question, Freya?" The man asked. Before Freya could respond, he continued. "Out of all the poisons, why use Strychetonin to kill your dear cousin? If your reasons were political, I wonder why such a painful method was used?"

The question came so casually that Freya couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Strychetonin. It was a poison derived from a mana beast called the black spotted serpent. An F rank mana beast, and it was capable of killing people with F and even D rank cores. Freya had acquired it from her butler, who had been an assassin for the branch family, and someone who had served Freya her whole life.

Freya narrowed her eyes. His knowing the poison wasn’t too crazy, however. Everyone in the Lockhart family knew which poison was used.

"I have no clue what you’re talking about," she said, diplomatic and graceful. "The poison Clara’s maid used to kill her was different."

"No..." the man said. "It was not."

Freya’s eyes narrowed slightly... he seemed very confident.

"But despite that, I have to commend you," the man continued. "While the choice of poison was crude, your methods were efficient. The maid was convenient and had a history as an Apothecary. You gathered that knowledge and exploited the schedules and habits of the staff to execute a perfect assassination. Even identifying that your butler was loyal to you over your family. It’s brilliant."

The idea of this being a bluff shattered the moment he said that.

Her demeanor shifted. The smile on her face evaporated, and it was replaced by a blank expression. Her eyes turned hollow.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t in her usual, gentle tone. This one was cold. "Who are you? A member of the branch family? The main family?"

"You don’t need to know who I am," the man said, his tone unchanging. "But don’t you want to know why I called you here?"

"No," Freya said, her voice ruthless. "I came to find out what you are, and how you obtained the information about the assassination of Clara Lockhart."

"I apologize, Freya," the man said, but his tone sounded mocking. Freya couldn’t see his face, but she could practically feel the smile behind his face. "I cannot do that."

Freya didn’t care.

"I will ask you one more time. Who are you? How did you acquire that information?"

"I apologize, I cannot reveal that to you yet."

Freya’s eyes hardened.

Fine. If he did not want to tell her, then she simply had to capture him and torture the information out of him.

She would end this now.

She made a silent gesture, one that ordered her assassins to prepare to attack. Neutralize, not kill. She would need him alive to see if anyone else knew what he knew.

"I see..." Freya said. She was simply wasting time now. "So, tell me, why did you call me here? Surely not to shower me with compliments about a crime I did not comm–"

"Don’t..." the masked rabbit said. "You don’t want them to get hurt, do you?"

Freya paused.

"Who could you be talking about?"

The masked man didn’t reply. Instead, he took a step closer.

Now.

Freya’s pupils dilated.

She raised one finger.

And pointed it at the rabbit mask.

This would end now.

However...

Nothing happened.

A second of silence, then two, but still nothing happened.

"I had expected more than three assassins, Freya Lockhart," the man said. "I imagined you a more cautious woman... I am disappointed."

Freya’s heart stopped, and fear ran through her veins. What was he talking about? Her assassins?

Where were her assassins?

"One on the roof, one behind the second pillar to my right, and one crouched against the fountain behind me, am I correct?"

Freya didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. Her breath was caught in her throat.

"Come out."

The air instantly shifted.

The moment he said that, the fear Freya felt in that moment doubled – no, tripled.

A sense of dread pressed down on her. It was an energy unlike anything she had ever felt. It was vile, evil, and it spread through her entire body.

It wasn’t mana.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

Freya saw a figure walk from behind the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

The woman had pitch-black hair. Her eyes shone through the dark in a bright amethyst hue. She wore a gothic dress, and her expression was blank. Apathetic.

However, that wasn’t what caught Freya’s attention.

The woman was dragging three men behind her. Two in her right hand, one in her left, and she was gripping them by the hair.

Her assassins were unconscious and unmasked, two of them were bleeding, and they had frightened expressions on their unresponsive faces as the woman dragged them behind.

Freya recognized her instantly.

Rank 2, Aura Acheron.