Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

"You’re back again, Mr. Ashbourne. What are you searching for today?"

Ronan shot the librarian a friendly smile. "Same as always. I doubt I’ll need your help finding my way."

The librarian gave him a short nod and let him on his way.

In the beginning, she was a little nervous and didn’t know how to interact with him, but after coming here basically every day since the first week of the Academy, she’d gotten used to him.

Ronan walked through the mostly empty library, only a few students here and there browsing the expansive shelves. He’d figured out which time the library was most empty and made certain he would always come during this time.

He kept walking further down, until the shelves thinned out and the traffic disappeared entirely.

Most students preferred sections on combat theory, spellcasting, weapons, or anything directly useful towards advancement. Few bothered with the obscure interests and the regional anomalies.

Which was exactly why Ronan had been coming here diligently for the last two weeks.

His steps slowed as he scanned the labels along the shelves.

Southern Ecosystems.

Mana Beasts – Classification and Behavior.

Irregular Phenomena.

Ronan reached out, pulling the worn book from the shelves. The cover was faded, and it looked worn down from age, not from any signs of use.

He flipped it open and sat down, leaning against the shelves.

Most of it was expected.

Terrain descriptions. Migration patterns. Standard classifications.

He had already read about all of this.

His eyes moved faster, skimming through the pages, skipping over entire sections where he had previously found nothing useful.

He wasn’t looking for what was known. He was looking for what was not.

Fortunately, during his last visit, he had found something rather interesting, and he wanted to look into it today.

Finally, his eyes found what he was looking for.

"...parasitic mana organisms..."

Ronan narrowed his eyes and focused on the passage.

The passage was short, and it described low level parasitic organisms that attached themselves to weakened beasts, preying off their mana.

Useless.

He turned the page.

"...rare cases of symbiotic refinement irregularities observed in high-density mana zones..."

This time, he stopped.

Refinement. Irregularities. This was what he was looking for.

The wording was vague, and it seemed to be intentional. There were no details, no classifications. Just an acknowledgment that something like that existed.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he read the surrounding lines more carefully.

"...attracted to unstable concentrations of mana... frequently observed near fractured cores, decaying high-tier carcasses, or regions with erratic ambient flow..."

It wasn’t a full explanation. Not even a proper entry.

Just enough to confirm it.

His gaze moved further down the page.

"...historical accounts suggest limited human application... subjects exhibited accelerated mana refinement and abnormal density growth..."

Ronan’s fingers stilled.

"...long-term outcomes resulted in progressive instability... degradation of core function... cases of irreversible corruption recorded... linked to demonic methods."

The entry ended there. Almost like it was deliberately cut short.

This thing – the Refinement Leech, as they called it – was considered to be somewhat of a taboo. Its methods were associated with demonic practices due to its tendency to corrupt the mana cores of its victims.

The refinement leech wasn’t something that could be tracked directly. It didn’t hunt in the traditional sense, nor did it leave a consistent trail. It was drawn to imbalance – areas where mana pooled too densely, where it leaked uncontrollably, or where its flow became distorted. Injured beasts. Broken cores. Zones recently disturbed by excessive mana usage.

They were subtle signs, very easy to overlook, unless one knew what they were looking for.

Ronan slid the book back into place, his fingers lingering against the worn spine before he let it go.

He turned around and started walking out of the section. It was quiet as it usually was, overlooked by the large majority.

Ronan turned, stepping out of the aisle without hesitation. He had found what he was looking for, even if it took him 2 weeks to do so. Something that could help him actually advance.

Sadly, this world he had been transmigrated into had a harsh truth – talent trumps all.

And Ronan didn’t have any.

No amount of raw training, grit, or effort would allow him to rise to the lengths he needed to. If he wanted to do that, he would have to use his knowledge of the future in other ways.

His knowledge of the events coming was useful, but it wasn’t absolute.

His knowledge of the future had never been absolute.

It wasn’t a map – no hidden coordinates leading to power, no guaranteed paths waiting to be followed.

There weren’t any secret places where he would walk in, claim an inheritance of some legendary mage meant for the main character, and rise in power like that.

If things were that simple, he wouldn’t have gone through the effort of collecting allies.

Who needs allies when you have overwhelming strength?

No, he did not know the inner workings of the world.

What he knew were fragments.

Characters. Events that couldn’t be avoided. Outcomes shaped by forces larger than individual choice.

The inter-class war was one of them. It would happen, regardless of what anyone did.

Which was why, instead of sulking at the fact that he didn’t have any cheat abilities to exploit, he took his time and did as much research as he could in the 2 week period before the inter-class war.

And it had paid off; he had found something useful.

Which meant there were no shortcuts.

Only deviations.

And the leech...

Ronan exhaled quietly.

It was more risk than reward. One most would never even consider. Which was exactly why it remained unclaimed.

Footsteps echoed faintly from the opposite direction.

Golden hair, composed posture, elegant presence.

Princess Seraphina.

They passed each other without a word.

But her gaze shifted, not towards him exactly, but to where he had just come from.

Ronan noticed, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply kept walking forward.

His expression remained unchanged.

Time was limited.

And unlike the others, he couldn’t afford to invest all his time into preparing for the war itself.