'I'm the Villain, But the System Made Me OP'-Chapter 28: Blood and Politics

Someone was in his room.

Draven woke up to the wrongness of it. Not sound. Just... wrong. The air felt different. Colder. Moving wrong.

His eyes snapped open.

*CRASH.*

Window exploded inward. Glass everywhere. *Tinkle tinkle tinkle.* Shards spinning through moonlight like fucked up snowflakes.

Three shapes. Black on black. Already inside. Already moving.

"Oh fuck—"

First one lunged. Dagger leading. Aimed at his throat. Fast. Way too fast for normal.

Draven rolled. *Thump.* Hit the floor hard. Stone cold against his bare chest. Fighting in his fucking pajama pants because apparently assassins don’t care about polite scheduling.

*Whoosh.* Blade missed by maybe an inch. He felt the air move. Felt how close that was.

B-Rank. All three. He could feel their mana signatures now that he was awake. Professional. Coordinated. The kind of killers who charged by the corpse not by the hour. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

[System]: *WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP*

*ASSASSINS*

*THREE B-RANK*

*BLADES PROBABLY POISONED*

*THIS IS ALDRIC I’M CALLING IT NOW*

Yeah no shit.

Second assassin came from the left. Draven barely saw him. Just movement in the dark and then—

*Shing.*

Blade cut across his ribs. Shallow but *fuck* that stung. Warm blood spreading. His nightshirt—what was left of it—fell away in pieces.

"Shit shit shit—" Draven scrambled backward. Hit the wall. No time to stand. No time to think.

Void core pulsed. Black energy crackling without him even trying. Survival instinct. His body knew he was about to die.

Third guy had knives. Throwing knives. Three of them spinning through the air. *Shing shing shing.*

Draven dove right. *Thump.* Shoulder hit the floor wrong. Pain shot through his arm.

*Thunk thunk thunk.*

Knives buried in the wall. Right where his head had been. Green tint on the metal. Definitely poison. Probably something nasty.

Okay. Okay think. Three assassins. He’s on the floor in his pajamas. Bleeding. Window’s destroyed. Guards outside are either dead or bought off because nobody’s bursting in to help.

He was gonna die here.

Unless.

"[Void Palm Strike]!" Draven thrust his hand up. Black energy surged. Raw. Uncontrolled. Desperate.

*SLAM.*

Hit the first assassin square in the chest. The guy wasn’t expecting it. Probably thought Draven was still disoriented from waking up.

*CRACK.*

Ribs shattering. The assassin flew backward. *CRASH.* Went through the broken window. Didn’t even scream. Just gone.

One down. Two left. Draven’s mana was already draining. Using S-Rank spells without prep burned through reserves fast.

Second assassin moved. Blade coming at his face this time. Draven blocked with his forearm—stupid, so fucking stupid—

*Shing.*

Cut deep. Blood spraying. His arm went numb immediately. Not from pain. From poison.

"Fuck!" The word came out slurred. His tongue felt thick.

Poison. Fast-acting. Spreading.

He had maybe thirty seconds before it reached his heart.

Third assassin threw more knives. These ones curved. Spatial magic probably. Tracking spells. The kind you can’t dodge because they follow you.

Draven didn’t try to dodge.

"[Void Barrier]!"

Black energy shield. Crackling. Unstable. He’d never been good at defensive spells and doing them while poisoned and bleeding and in his fucking underwear wasn’t helping.

*CLANG CLANG CLANG.*

Knives hit the barrier. Bounced. The barrier held. Barely. Cracks already forming.

Second assassin was on him. Dagger stabbing at the barrier. *CLANG CLANG.* Rapid strikes. Professional. Relentless. This guy had done this before. Killed mages before. Knew how to break barriers.

Draven’s vision was blurring. Poison reaching his chest. His heart was beating weird. Too fast then too slow then skipping beats.

Gonna die. Actually gonna die this time.

No.

No fuck that.

He dropped the barrier. Channeled everything—every bit of mana he had left—into one spell.

"[Void Convergence]!"

Black energy exploded. *WHOOOM.* The entire room filled with darkness. Consuming. Hungry. Everything not nailed down got pulled toward the center. Furniture. Glass. Blood. The assassins.

Second assassin screamed. *"AAAGH!"*

Caught in the pull. His body started dissolving. Mana first. Then flesh. Then bones. Everything consumed by void energy that didn’t give a shit about B-Rank defenses.

Third assassin was smarter. Jumped out the window. *CRASH.* Escaped before the convergence reached him.

Spell ended. *Whoom.* Darkness fading.

Draven collapsed. *Thump.* Knees hit the floor. Then his face. Stone cold against his cheek.

His room was destroyed. Walls cracked. Furniture shattered. Two dead assassins—well, one dead body and one pile of dissolved nothing.

And he was poisoned. Really poisoned. His chest felt like it was on fire from the inside.

[System]: *Okay so*

*You’re dying*

*Poison is Shadowvine—lethal in like two minutes*

*You got maybe thirty seconds left*

*GET HELP NOW*

*I’M SERIOUS*

*NOW*

Draven tried to stand. Couldn’t. Legs weren’t working. Poison had spread too far.

Crawled instead. *Scrape scrape.* Elbows and knees. Dragging himself toward the door. Left a blood trail. Didn’t care.

Door. Right there. Five feet away. Might as well be five miles.

*Scrape. Scrape.*

His hand hit the door. *Thump.* Reached up. Grabbed the handle. *Click.*

Fell through when it opened. *Thump.*

Royal Guards. Two of them. Standing there. Looking surprised.

Why the fuck were they surprised. His room just exploded. Glass and screaming and magic everywhere.

Unless they’d been told to ignore it.

"’M poisoned," Draven slurred. His tongue didn’t work right. "Shadowvine. Need... healer..."

The guards just stared.

"DID YOU NOT—" Draven coughed. Blood came up. Oh that’s bad. "Fucking. HEALER. NOW."

One guard finally moved. Ran down the hall. *Stomp stomp stomp.*

Other guard just stood there. Useless piece of shit.

Draven slumped against the doorframe. *Thump.* Slid down. Everything was getting darker. Not unconscious-dark. Dying-dark.

Through the Harem Bond Network—all five connections—alarms were screaming. Panic. Fear. Rage. All his girls felt him dying.

*I’m okay,* he tried to send. Came out garbled. *Assassins. Poisoned. Getting help. Maybe. Hopefully. Fuck.*

Seraphina’s response hit like a hammer. Pure fury. *WHERE.*

*My room. But don’t come it’s—*

Too late. He felt her running. Not walking. Sprinting. Ice magic already crackling around her hands ready to murder whoever did this.

Lyra too. Shadows going wild. She was closer. Maybe two hallways over.

*SLAM SLAM SLAM.*

Doors crashing open. Getting closer.

Then Lyra appeared. Hair wild. Eyes darker than normal—full shadow-mode. Daggers already drawn. She took one look at Draven on the floor bleeding and her expression went from worried to murderous.

"Where," she said. One word. Flat. Deadly.

"Dead. Window." Draven’s vision was doubling. "One escaped. Two dead. ’M poisoned."

"Fuck." Lyra knelt next to him. "How long ago?"

"Dunno. Minute? Five? Time’s weird."

Seraphina arrived. Ice everywhere. Frost forming on the walls just from her being pissed. She saw Draven and her face went white.

"No. No no no—" She dropped next to him. Hands on his face. "You’re not dying. Don’t you fucking dare die."

"Trying not to," Draven mumbled.

A healer came running. Young woman. Academy staff. Looked barely older than Draven. She saw the blood and her eyes went huge.

"Shadowvine poison," she said. Not a question. "How are you still conscious?"

"S-Rank. Constitution."

"That shouldn’t—" She pulled out vials. Potions. Her hands were shaking. "This is lethal. Like really lethal. You should be dead."

"Great. Thanks. Super helpful."

"Drink this." She shoved a vial at his mouth. *Glug glug.* Tasted like someone had mixed burnt hair with spoiled milk and hatred. "All of it. Now."

Draven swallowed. Gagged. Almost threw up. Kept it down through sheer spite.

The antidote burned. Like drinking fire. His veins felt like they were boiling from the inside.

But his vision cleared. A little. The numbness in his limbs started fading.

"You’ll live," the healer said. Sounded surprised. "But you’re gonna feel like absolute shit for at least a day. Maybe two."

"’M used to it."

Seraphina’s hand was still on his face. Her fingers were shaking. Through the bond he felt her terror. She’d thought he was dying. Actually dying this time.

"Who did this?" Her voice was ice. Literally. Frost formed on her words.

"Aldric." Draven’s strength was coming back. Slowly. "Professional assassins. Coordinated. This wasn’t random."

"He tried to murder you." Lyra’s shadows were creeping up the walls. "In your sleep. In the academy. With guards right fucking outside."

The Royal Guards. Right. They were still standing there.

Seraphina looked at them. "You." Ice magic flickering. "You were assigned to protect him. Where the fuck were you when three assassins broke through his window?"

"We didn’t hear—"

"Bullshit." Lyra stood up. Walked toward the guards. Slow. Menacing. "Silencing spell. Someone cast it on this whole hallway. That’s why you didn’t hear the window breaking. The fighting. The screaming."

The guards looked at each other. Guilty as fuck.

"Who," Seraphina said. Not asking. Demanding. "Who told you to let this happen."

Silence.

"ANSWER ME."

"We... we can’t. Orders from—" The guard stopped. Realized he’d almost said too much.

From above. Someone with authority. Someone who could order Royal Guards to let an assassination happen.

"Get out," Draven said. His voice was getting stronger. The antidote was working fast. "All of you. You’re done. I don’t want your protection anymore."

"Lord Arclight, we’re assigned by the Crown—"

"I. Don’t. Care." Draven stood up. Unsteady. Seraphina had to help him. But he stood. "You just let people try to murder me. Your protection is worth less than shit. Get the fuck out."

The guards hesitated.

Then Duke Valerius’s voice echoed from down the corridor. "You heard him. Leave. Now."

The Duke appeared. Massive guy. Armored even though it was like 2 AM. Must’ve teleported the second Seraphina called through the family bond. Behind him were ten House Valerius guards. All A-Rank. All looking ready to kill someone.

The Royal Guards practically ran. *Stomp stomp stomp.* Didn’t even try to argue.

"Lord Arclight." Valerius looked at the destroyed room. The blood. The bodies. His expression didn’t change but his mana signature flared. Pissed. "You’re coming with me. Tonight. My estate."

"The academy—"

"Fuck the academy." The Duke cut him off. "The Crown Prince just sent assassins. On academy grounds. Under royal protection. You’re not safe here."

Draven wanted to argue. But the Duke was right. Aldric had just proven he could reach him anywhere.

"Pack," Valerius ordered. "Five minutes. Bring what matters. We’re leaving."

---

The Valerius estate was ridiculous.

Like, proper fortress ridiculous. Twenty-foot walls. Magic barriers that made the air shimmer. Guards everywhere—not just standing around but actually patrolling, weapons out, eyes sharp. This place could probably hold off an army.

Draven sat in what they called a "guest room" which was bigger than his entire dorm suite. Fancy bed he wasn’t using. Expensive furniture he didn’t care about. Window overlooking gardens that probably cost more to maintain than most people’s houses.

Seraphina hadn’t left. Just sat on the bed watching him like if she looked away he’d disappear or die or both.

"You need sleep," Draven said.

"So do you."

"Can’t. Too wired. Adrenaline or the antidote or something."

"Draven—"

"I almost died." He said it flat. Statement of fact. "In my sleep. In my room. Under protection. Aldric sent professional killers and they almost succeeded."

Seraphina’s hands clenched. Ice formed on her fingers without her meaning to. *Crackle crackle.* "I felt it. Through the bond. I felt your heart stopping and I was three hallways away and I couldn’t—" Her voice broke.

Draven pulled her close. She was shaking. His Ice Princess who never showed weakness was fucking shaking.

"I’m okay," he said. "Still here."

"This time."

Yeah. This time.

Through the door—loud footsteps. *Thump thump thump.* Heavy boots. The Duke was coming.

"Lord Arclight," Valerius called through the door. "War room. Now. We need to talk."

Seraphina looked at Draven. "You just survived an assassination attempt. Can’t this wait?"

"No," the Duke’s voice came back. "It can’t. Aldric just made his move. We make ours now or we’re dead by next week."

---

War room was exactly what it sounded like.

Maps covering three walls. Magical displays showing real-time surveillance of the capital. Crystal balls floating around showing different locations. A massive table in the center covered in documents and tactical markers.

Three people were already there when Draven and Seraphina walked in. Advisors probably. One was this old guy with white hair and sharp eyes. Another was a woman maybe forty with scars on her hands. Third was younger, nervous-looking, kept shuffling papers.

Duke Valerius stood at the head of the table. Still in full armor. Hadn’t bothered changing since the teleport.

"Sit," he ordered.

They sat. *Scrape scrape.* Chairs on stone.

"Three B-Rank assassins," the Duke started. No preamble. Just facts. "Shadow Hand organization. Professional killers. Cost about fifty thousand gold for a job like this. Payment traced to a royal treasury shell account."

"So it’s confirmed," the scared woman said. "Crown Prince ordered it."

"Obviously he fucking ordered it," Draven said. "I refused to serve him three days ago. Assassins show up tonight. Not hard math."

"Language," the Duke said. Not angry. Just automatic.

"Fuck language. He tried to kill me."

"Lord Arclight has a point," the old advisor said. Dry voice. "The Crown Prince has escalated to direct assassination. We need to respond."

"Can’t accuse him publicly," the nervous younger guy said. "No proof. Well, there’s proof of the payment but it’s a shell account and royal funds get used for lots of things and technically anyone with access could’ve—"

"We’re not accusing him publicly," Seraphina cut in. Her voice was cold. Sharp. The Ice Princess mode that made people shut up and listen. "We respond privately."

Everyone looked at her.

"What does that mean?" the Duke asked.

"Aldric attacked covertly. We respond covertly." Seraphina stood up. Started pacing. *Tap tap tap.* Her footsteps echoed. "No public accusations. No legal proceedings. We just... make his life hell."

"How?" the scared woman asked.

"His support base." Seraphina’s eyes were hard. "House Brennan, House Thorne, House Kastel. They’re his biggest backers. They provide money, political influence, votes in the Royal Court."

"And they all have secrets," the old advisor said slowly. Understanding dawning.

"Everyone has secrets." Seraphina smiled. Not warm. Predatory. "House Brennan’s been dodging taxes for six years. House Thorne has illegal dungeon operations—slave labor basically. House Kastel’s head is fucking the trade minister’s wife."

"How do you know—" the nervous guy started.

"I pay attention." Seraphina cut him off. "We leak them. Strategically. One at a time. Let the scandals consume them. Force them to defend themselves instead of backing Aldric."

The Duke was smiling. Proud. "Political assassination."

"Exactly."

"That’s—" the nervous advisor looked overwhelmed. "That’s declaring war. On the Crown Prince. Using scandal and—"

"He already declared war," Draven said. "He just tried to murder me in my sleep. We’re past polite politics."

[System]: *Your girl is scary*

*Like genuinely terrifying*

*Also brilliant*

*This is hot*

*+500 VP for inspiring ruthless harem members*

Silence around the table. Everyone processing.

"There’s still a problem," the old advisor said. "Even if we destroy his support base, Aldric is still Crown Prince. Still has royal authority. Still has the King’s—"

"Does he though?" Draven interrupted.

They looked at him.

"The King’s been sick for what, eight months?" Draven leaned forward. "Used to be active. Involved. Then suddenly he’s too ill to govern and Aldric conveniently takes over everything."

"You think—" the scared woman started.

"I think Aldric’s poisoning his own father." Draven said it flat. Certain. "Long-term. Subtle. Keeps the King weak enough to control but alive enough to legitimize Aldric’s power."

"That’s a serious accusation," Valerius said carefully.

"It’s also probably true." Draven looked at the Duke. "Think about it. Timing’s too convenient. The King gets sick right when Aldric needs more power. Stays sick. Never recovers. Just stays in this perfect state of useful illness."

The advisors exchanged looks.

"If that’s true..." the old one said.

"If we could prove it..." the woman added.

"We’d have grounds to remove him from power," the Duke finished. "Medical examination. Healer testimony. Chemical analysis of the King’s blood."

"How do we get close enough?" Seraphina asked. "The King’s chambers are guarded. Healers are all loyal to Aldric."

"We don’t get close." Draven’s thoughts were clicking together. Clear. Logical. "We get someone who already has access."

"Who?"

"The Queen."

Silence.

"The Queen hates Aldric," the old advisor said slowly. "Different mother. He’s from the first wife. Current Queen has no love for him."

"And she’d have access to everything," Draven continued. "Medical records. Healers’ reports. The King himself. If anyone can get us proof, it’s her."

"This is insane," the nervous advisor said. "We’re talking about accusing the Crown Prince of poisoning the King. If we’re wrong—"

"If we’re wrong we’re already dead," Draven cut him off. "He just sent assassins. He’ll send more. Better ones. Eventually one will succeed. Defense is losing. We go on offense or we die."

The Duke studied Draven. Long moment.

"You’ve changed," he said quietly. "The Abyss Core. It took something from you."

"Yeah."

"Fear?"

"Among other things."

"Good." Valerius’s expression hardened. "Because what we’re about to do requires someone who can’t afford to be afraid." He looked at his advisors. "Start preparations. Leaked scandals first. Make them look like rival houses exposing each other. Not us."

"From where should we start first?" the scared woman asked.

"House Brennan first. Tax fraud. Give it a week to spread. Then House Thorne. Another week. Then Kastel." The Duke was mapping it out. "By week four, all three houses are drowning in scandal. Too busy defending themselves to back Aldric."

"And the Queen?" the old advisor asked.

"I’ll make contact. Discreetly. Feel out if she’s willing to cooperate." Valerius looked at Draven. "If she provides proof of poisoning, we move to expose Aldric. If not... we escalate anyway."

"This could backfire spectacularly," the nervous guy said.

"Probably will," Draven agreed. "Do it anyway."

The meeting kept going. Details. Specifics. Who would leak what. How to make it look authentic. Cover stories. Alibis.

By the end they had something resembling a plan.

Messy. Dangerous. Probably gonna get them all killed.

But better than waiting for the next assassination attempt.

[System]: *You just started a political war*

*Against the Crown Prince*

*Using scandal and conspiracy*

*This is either genius or suicide*

*Probably both*

*+1,000 VP for strategic planning*

*VP Total: 22,950 → 23,950*

---

Later. Much later. Maybe 4 AM.

Draven stood in the guest room. Couldn’t sleep. Too much happening. Too much adrenaline still in his system.

Seraphina was asleep on the bed. Finally crashed around 3. Exhaustion won.

Through the window—stars. Clear night. Peaceful.

Didn’t match how Draven felt inside.

They’d just declared war on the Crown Prince. Using politics and scandal and conspiracy. It was smart. Ruthless. Necessary.

And it scared the shit out of him.

Wait. No. It didn’t.

That was the problem.

The Abyss Core had taken his fear. He knew objectively this was dangerous. Knew they could die. Knew Aldric would retaliate.

But he didn’t *feel* scared. Just... empty. Cold. Logical.

Was that better or worse?

He didn’t know.

"You’re thinking too loud," Seraphina mumbled from the bed. Not quite awake.

"Sorry."

"Come here."

Draven walked over. *Tap tap.* Boots on floor. Sat on the edge of the bed.

Seraphina pulled him down. *Thump.* He ended up lying next to her.

"We’re gonna die," she said quietly. "Aren’t we."

"Maybe."

"You’re supposed to say no."

"You want me to lie?"

"Sometimes lies are nice." She turned to face him. Eyes half-open. Sleepy. "Everything’s changing. You’re changing. This whole situation is spiraling and I don’t know how to stop it."

"We don’t stop it. We survive it."

"How?"

"Together."

She laughed. Soft. Bitter. "You say that like it’s easy."

"It’s not. But it’s all we’ve got."

Seraphina was quiet for a moment. Then: "I’m scared. You’re not. That’s weird."

"Yeah."

"The old Draven would’ve been terrified. Would’ve second-guessed everything. Now you just... decide and move." She touched his face. "I miss the parts of you that hesitated sometimes."

"They’re gone."

"I know." Her voice cracked. "And I hate that. But I also need this version of you. The one who can look at assassination attempts and political war and just... not break."

"I’m not gonna break."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Lie. Maybe. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

But he said it anyway.

They lay there. Silent. Holding each other. Outside the window dawn was starting. Light creeping across the sky.

Tomorrow the war would start for real. Scandals. Leaks. Political assassination.

But tonight? Tonight was just them.

And for now, that was enough.

[System]: *Current Status*

Assassination survived

Political war declared

Crown Prince: PRIMARY TARGET

Allies: Duke Valerius, harem members

Strategy: Destroy support base, prove King poisoning

Survival odds: ???

Personal cost: Already paying it

Next: Scandals begin