My Niece Is Not A Villainess

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This isn’t even like training a dog, what’s going on here?”

 

One of the knights grumbled, and another knight next to him replied irritably.

 

“He’s just watched the goblins earlier and didn’t even catch them. Why did he come on this monster hunt then?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Quiet!”

 

As the knights’ voices grew louder, William silenced them.

 

However, the knights’ complaints were relentless.

 

“This can’t go on. I’m definitely going to protest.”

 

“He called us bastards before, does he really think we are like that?”

 

The knights, who were determined to protest against Ian, heard a strange sound.

 

“What is that?”

 

The sound of a sword moving and a terrifying noise that didn’t seem human.

 

William was the first to grasp the situation.

 

“The camp is under attack!”

 

The knights hurriedly grabbed their swords and rushed to the camp.

 

But…

 

“What… is this?”

 

“How… how can this be?”

 

“Is that really the Duke?”

 

What they saw was not a monster attacking the camp, but Ian, who was moving his sword as if he were dancing, slaughtering the lizardmen.

 

His movements were flawless, precisely targeting and slashing vital points.

 

While everyone was mesmerized by Ian’s sword, William regained his senses.

 

“Help the Duke!”

 

“Yes!”

 

Claude and Jean were the first to run to Ian’s side, followed by the other knights.

 

Even though the knights joined the fight to kill the lizardmen, Ian was the one who killed the most.

 

When Ian killed the last lizardman and flicked the green blood off his sword, the knights watching him were pale with shock.

 

“Duke.”

 

“Shh.”

 

Ian, still tense, was staring into the forest.

 

As the knights wore confused expressions, birds suddenly flew out of the forest with a flutter.

 

Thick trees fell with a crash.

 

As the knights tensed and watched the forest, it happened.

 

A massive creature with red skin and sagging flesh, an ugly face with a horn on its forehead, and a gruesome stone axe that looked like it could crush heads in one blow appeared.

 

“A t-troll.”

 

One knight collapsed in fear.

 

“Were there originally trolls here?!”

 

“Why is a troll appearing now?!”

 

While the other knights were shocked, only Claude laughed as he gripped his greatsword.

 

“Now this is a worthy opponent.”

 

“You’re overdoing it.”

 

Despite Jean’s rebuke, Claude’s eyes gleamed as he looked at the troll.

 

“William.”

 

At Ian’s call, William, covered in green blood, approached him.

 

“Is this a monster that usually appears?”

 

“No, the monsters we’ve faced until now were only goblins, orcs, and lizardmen.”

 

Ian, not taking his eyes off the troll, pondered William’s explanation.

 

‘Maybe this is what killed the original Ian in the story.’

 

“What are the characteristics of a troll?”

 

“It’s slow but has incredible regeneration abilities.”

 

Its characteristics were similar to those on Earth.

 

Ian frowned in annoyance.

 

A high regeneration ability meant that slashing it with a sword would be useless.

 

“We have no choice.”

 

Ian commanded the knights.

 

“Don’t attack the troll.”

 

Claude shouted.

 

“What? What do you mean?! We finally have a worthy opponent!”

 

“Hey! Claude! You’re talking to the Duke!”

 

Despite Jean’s attempt to stop him, Claude, irritated, spoke to Ian.

 

“I’ll take care of that thing.”

 

“Can you do it?”

 

“Hah. Who do you think you’re talking to? Just watch. I’ll bring back its head.”

 

Claude thumped his chest with his fist, grabbed his greatsword, and charged at the troll.

 

Jean, his partner, looked between Ian and Claude, wanting to help immediately.

 

“Sir Jean, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, Duke.”

 

“Watch him. Since he talked big, let’s see how well he fights.”

 

“But—”

 

Ian raised his hand to silence Jean and folded his arms, watching Claude’s fight.

 

‘He’s amusing the more I see him.’

 

Since becoming the number one favored person, Ian had only met people who either groveled or showed him respect, never anyone who dared to be insolent.

 

Perhaps that’s why he found Claude endearing.

 

‘His sword skills are decent too. If I can disciplining him out, maybe I can help him to meet Rose sooner.’

 

As Ian observed Claude with interest, Claude let out a battle cry that echoed through the forest and slashed at the troll’s flesh, which quickly regenerated.

 

“Argh!”

 

Despite continuous attacks, the troll’s rapid healing restored it to its original state, while Claude’s greatsword grew slower from the fatigue of an earlier battle.

 

“That’s enough.”

 

As the troll reached out to grab the exhausted Claude, Ian appeared suddenly and severed the troll’s hand, grabbing Claude by the scruff and throwing him back.

 

“Ackhh!”

 

“Claude!”

 

Although the knights groaned as they caught the flying Claude, he couldn’t take his eyes off Ian’s sword.

 

A golden aura enveloped Ian’s sword—

 

It was an Auror.

 

“Since when the Duke is an Auror?”

 

Jean muttered, he wonder if it just Claude’s eyes who could see that Aura.

 

“Even if I cut it with an aura blade, it still regenerates.”

 

Dodging the troll’s stone axe, Ian watched its arm regenerate.

 

‘I’ll have to destroy the cells themselves. Perfect, I needed to try this anyway.’

 

Ian quickly stepped back and checked the knights’ positions to ensure they were out of range of his next move.

 

As the troll charged at him, Ian spoke.

 

[Divine Punishment.]

 

A bolt of lightning, 1 billion volts strong, struck the troll from the sky, burning its skin, flesh, and even the regenerating cells.

 

With a puff of acrid smoke, the charred troll collapsed, disintegrating into ashes that were blown away by the wind.

 

“What was that…”

 

“What did we just see?”

 

The knights were speechless, unable to believe what they had just witnessed, while Ian calmly turned to check on them.

 

“Is anyone hurt?”

 

William, who had been staring at the spot where the troll once stood, responded.

 

“N-No, no one is hurt.”

 

“Good.”

 

Seeing that everyone was merely exhausted and not injured, Ian turned away.

 

“Prepare to camp.”

 

As Ian walked away, the knights began murmuring among themselves.

 

“What was that just now? Magic?”

 

“Is that really important? Did you see the Duke use an aura?”

 

“I knew he could handle a sword, but I had no idea the Duke was an aura user. Is that even possible?”

 

“Hey, if he uses magic too, then the Duke must be a magic swordsman!”

 

One knight exclaimed.

 

The knights’ faces lit up.

 

An aura user and a magic swordsman.

 

There were fewer than fifty aura users on the continent.

 

And one of them was their lord, the Duke, who could also use magic.

 

“My heart is pounding suddenly.”

 

“Mine too. Isn’t the Duke just amazing?”

 

“When he said ‘Up to here,’ my heart sank without me even realizing.”

 

“You felt that too? Me too.”

 

“And that golden aura… It was so beautiful.”

 

Instead of preparing the camp as ordered, the knights were chatting excitedly about Ian. Meanwhile, a squire, puzzled, muttered to himself.

 

“But why did the Duke look so pale?”

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Away from the camp, Ian leaned against a tree and coughed up blood.

 

The red blood not only soaked the ground but also flowed along the path.

 

At that moment, messages from the constellations appeared.

 

[<Origin> shouts, ‘What is happening? Why are you vomiting blood?’]

 

“I’m fine.”

 

[<Well of Mana> anxiously asks, ‘Are you hurt somewhere?’]

 

“No, I’m not hurt.”

 

Ian wiped the blood from his mouth with a cleansing spell and slumped against another tree. Seeing his fingers trembling, Ian clenched his fist.

 

[<End of the Sword> asks if these are side effects.]

 

Vomiting blood due to internal injuries and muscle spasms in his limbs were, as <End of the Sword> suspected, it’s side effects of the Chosen One skill.

 

“Yes, that’s correct. It seems my body can’t handle the skill.”

 

Despite his rigorous training, which had made his muscles solid and allowed him to produce aura, Ian’s body was still too weak to fully withstand the Chosen One skill, causing these severe side effects.

 

When he used to be Yoon Sijun on Earth, he never experienced such side effects, even when he was not as strong as he eventually became.

 

Ian pondered for a long time and then spoke.

 

“Since the skill originates from Earth, it seems to have side effects here.”

 

Using Chosen One skill required borrowing power from the constellations, having a strong body, and enough mana to activate the skill.

 

Despite fulfilling all three conditions as he did on Earth, he experienced side effects now, likely due to the different environment.

 

[<Origin> hums thoughtfully.]

 

[<End of Mana> agrees, suggesting the skill is probably tailored to an Earth human’s body and doesn’t fit this world’s environment.]

 

[<End of the Sword> worries, ‘Shouldn’t you stop using the skill then?’]

 

“That’s true, but…”

 

Ian’s words trailed off. Vomiting blood and muscle spasms were side effects of using the skill, but strangely, the symptoms subsided much faster than they should have, leaving him feeling oddly refreshed, almost as if he had received healing.

 

After explaining everything he felt, there was a moment of silence from the constellations.

 

As Ian got up and cleaned up the bloodstains, <Origin>’s message appeared suddenly.

 

[<Origin> says, ‘This is our first time encountering this too, so we’ll need to investigate.’]

 

[<Origin> urges, ‘Be careful and don’t use the skill until we know more.’]

 

“Understood. I’m sorry for troubling you. How did you know about my condition?”

 

[<Well of Mana> says tearfully, ‘Didn’t we say we’d be watching over you even if we couldn’t send messages?’]

 

[<End of the Sword> proudly says, ‘We were so pleased to see you getting stronger.’]

 

[<Origin> explains, ‘Sending messages is burdensome in this world, but we’ve always been watching over you.’]

 

[<Origin> insists, ‘We’ll find out more, so call us if anything happens.’]

 

Ian, who hadn’t intended to call on them for anything trivial, nodded to reassure his constellations.

 

“Yes, I will do that.”

 

With <Origin> presumably off to investigate, no more messages came through.

 

‘I continue to be indebted to them,’ Ian thought.

 

The constellations had always been eager to care for him, both on Earth and here. Knowing this, Ian felt both grateful and somewhat guilty for the love he received, which was greater than any he had known from parents or family.

 

‘I hope they return before I go on my trip.’

 

The constellations loved watching over him, so they would be thrilled to watch his travels.

 

With that thought, Ian glanced at the sky and then walked back toward the busy campsite.