I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 184: Welcome Party (2)

The moment Ashok opened his mouth, it was as if an invisible alarm tripped inside Leon and Gideon's heads—a silent, piercing warning honed by too many past encounters.

They'd come to recognize the pattern: when Adlet spoke words to make enemies as if his words cloaked in a veil of offhanded charm.

"We will no—" Gideon began sharply, his voice low but firm, instinct firing before thought could catch up. He'd heard enough from Ashok to know better than to let him finish a sentence unchallenged.

But Leon raised a hand and cut him off.

"Sure, what is it?" he asked, calm and collected, though a flicker of tension passed through his eyes. His voice carried an openness that almost masked the caution beneath.

Leon knew exactly who they were dealing with- Adlet, silver-tongued, smirking, and always two steps from chaos.

He was the kind of student who spoke like he held a secret he might just use against you, the kind who could make enemies with a compliment.

Still, Leon held out hope. Maybe it was naive, or maybe just stubborn optimism, but he believed there was a way to get through to everyone, even someone like Ashok.

And really—delivering a message? That couldn't possibly be such a big deal.

Could it?

Ashok gave them a warm smile—too warm.

It stretched across his face like a mask, disarming and artificial, just enough to raise the hairs on the back of Leon's neck. Then, he began to speak.

—One minute later—

The gate to Ashok's room slammed shut with a clang that echoed down the corridor.

Leon and Gideon stood frozen before it, eyes locked on the now-closed door as if trying to process what had just happened.

The silence stretched.

Leon finally broke it, his voice unsteady but trying for calm. "Let's forget about him—and the message. We should move to the next—"

"No."

Gideon's voice cut through the quiet like steel. He stepped forward, his eyes still on the gate, now wearing a grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"If you can't do it, I will. I'll deliver the message—every single word that came out of his damn mouth—to the Seniors. I want to see how they react."

Leon turned sharply, alarm flaring in his expression.

"This'll make him an enemy of the Seniors. You know that, Gideon." He didn't want to say more. Saying it would make it real.

"I don't care."

Gideon was already moving to his next, his pace steady, voice cold with determination. "You can keep your mouth shut if you want, but I won't."

Leon stood before the closed gate. He exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders.

Deep down, he knew—whatever came next was no longer his burden. He had done what he could. The rest… was out of his hands.

Ashok inside his room, still fighting off the remnants of sleep. His eyes were half-lidded as he set his alarm for 9:00 P.M and once again dropped dead on the bed.

…

One Hour Later

The sharp, digital trill of the alarm pierced the silence. Ashok blinked awake.

He stepped out into the corridor, stretching as he moved toward the outer balcony.

Outside, the compound buzzed with activity.

Strings of ribbons and clusters of balloons floated on light wires between columns.

Second and Third Years were gathered in small groups, tying decorations and stringing up soft lanterns that flickered in the twilight.

Laughter and hurried chatter echoed through the air, carried by the breeze.

Ashok narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd from above. "I really hope the Fool delivers my message," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

He'd given up expecting much from the so-called Hero as that guy was someone who had the principles similar to that of a Library Rules, but the Fool… he will do it.

As the thought passed through his mind, Adle was making his way to the far end of the fourth-floor balcony.

The Aether Dormitory gates lay near the end of the First Year Dorm Building.

Ashok now stood at the outermost corner of the fourth floor. He placed one hand firmly on the rail. Without hesitation, he bent his knees, shifted his weight—and vaulted clean over.

For a heartbeat, it looked like madness. A suicide attempt.

But Ashok wasn't looking to die.

Gravity. Negative

The moment he flipped over, he activated Negative Zero and Instantly, the pull of gravity lowered. His body floated, suspended in air, drifting downward like a leaf on windless air.

As he neared the ground, he deactivated his ability. Gravity returned. He landed softly on both feet, the sound no louder than a whisper on grass.

'Why bother with stairs or even those floating platforms', Ashok thought with a faint grin as he walked briskly across the courtyard, 'when I am the unstoppable elevator?' He paused.

Well... no longer unstoppable. Just an elevator.

He had taken the fastest route down from the fourth floor, bypassing all conventional travel as only someone like him could.

Now outside the dormitory, the evening air cool against his face, he moved with purpose—but not haste.

Was he running away?

No. Not quite. He still had training ahead of him tonight.

But before anything else, food took precedence.

Crossing the courtyard under the soft glow of campus lights, Ashok made his way to the cafeteria.

It was quieter now—most students already fed or out helping with the preparations. He ordered his meal, devoured it with practiced efficiency, then—pleased with the taste—ordered seconds.

Satisfied, and a little more awake, he stood and stretched, ready for the next part of his evening.

Ashok then went to the training area, the receptionist didn't even look at him as he booked a the Spell Training Room for three hours.

Ashok sat cross-legged in the center of the room, placing his hands on his knees starting his Mana Control Training with the help of his Soul Survivor Trait.

His eyes began to close, but not before one last thought crossed his mind:

'I truly wonder what the seniors will do when they find out...'

….

Aether Dormitory Grounds

10:00 P.M.

The cool night air was tinged with the scent of fresh pastries and the faint rustle of wind against the dormitory's high stone walls.

Slowly, the First Year students began to gather in the open courtyard at the heart of Aether Dormitory.

Most wore the standard-issue academy tracksuits, a practical choice for an informal evening event.

A few, either out of pride or preference, had chosen to remain in their pristine Academy uniforms, their polished buttons and crisp collars standing out among the crowd.

As they looked around, eyes widened in quiet surprise. The compound had been transformed.

Streamers hung between lamp posts, soft golden lights glimmered like fireflies above, and the walls had been trimmed with floating candles not to mention ballon and ribbons.

While it didn't rival a royal banquet, the setup was more than impressive—especially for what had been announced simply as a "Welcome Gathering."

Long banquet tables had been arranged along both sides of the courtyard, lined with neatly presented food—both traditional fare and exotic dishes from various regions of the empire.

In the center of the space, smaller round tables with five chairs each encouraged conversation and mingling.

As more students arrived, the ambient noise of idle chatter grew, only to be gently overtaken by the sound of music.

A group of upperclassmen, gathered in one corner with a variety of musical instruments, had begun playing.

The melody—soft, elegant, and welcoming—enveloped the compound like a warm breeze.

Then came a change in energy.

A subtle ripple moved through the crowd as several Second Year students stepped forward from the entrance, clearly designated as official greeters for the night.

They weren't here for everyone.

With measured steps and polite words, they welcomed a select few from the First Year cohort—those whose reputations preceded them.

Alina Cindergarde, heiress to the Eastern Duchy, and Isolde Ironheart heiress to the Western Duchy.

Leon, the newly awakened Hero of Light, and Althea, prodigy of the Magic Tower.

Elara von Tharlin, Second Princess of the Empire herself, descended the steps with quiet grace, her every movement watched.

These five were treated differently.

But outside of them, no one else received such personal attention.

The rest of the First Years, no matter how talented or noble, were ushered in with the bare minimum of courtesy.

Among the Seniors, many hailed from noble houses themselves. And in this place, they were the Seniors.

Around 10:30 P.M., the academy's grand courtyard was alive with chatter and laughter, while the crisp evening breeze carried the scent of roasted meats.

Clusters of students had formed across the courtyard, their conversations weaving through the air like threads of a grand tapestry.

Most of the first years were eagerly engaging with the seniors, though in truth, it was primarily the nobles who exchanged pleasantries—polished words and measured smiles—while the commoners gravitated toward the lavish spread of food.

It was the one thing that remained equal among all three years of the prestigious Aether Class, a rare moment where status momentarily faded in the face of indulgence.

Amidst the hum of voices and the distant melody of a string ensemble, a sudden disruption rippled through the gathering.

The music came to an abrupt halt, replaced by the grating sound of wood scraping against stone.

All eyes turned toward the foremost area of the compound, where a lone figure was dragging a chair with deliberate slowness, the sound echoing in the quiet that followed.

The figure stopped at the center and, with effortless grace, stepped onto the chair.

"Hello, everyone!" she called out, her voice carrying with an undeniable authority. "I am Valencia Astria, First Rank of the Second Year, and I welcome every single First Year to the Academy and the Aether Dormitory."

A hush fell over the gathering.

The name Astria was not one spoken lightly.

The first years stared at her, their expressions a mixture of awe and disbelief. There was only one family that bore that name.

The family that currently held someone who held the Title of The Strongest Ascended.

The family of the Sword Emperor.