Ascension Of The Villain

"Why should I trust you?"

Vyan didn't flinch at the direct question. He simply offered a faint shrug.

It was fair. Vyan wouldn't have trusted himself so easily, either.

If Adrian knew himself even a little bit, he was right to be wary of Vyan. They shared more than enough similarities. After all, they were each other's counterparts, even if Adrian—being from a modern world—might not entirely believe it. But Vyan was sure that Adrian could also feel the weird but surreal connection between the two of them.

"You don't have to. I'm going to leave anyway."

That answer clearly wasn't what Adrian had expected. His brow arched ever so slightly, wary.

And that was fine.

Vyan didn't need his trust. Not really. He wasn't here to convince them of anything.

Whatever strange twist of fate had landed him in this world, he wasn't foolish enough to think that anyone here would believe him. In a world where magic didn't exist, it was obvious he'd seem like a crackhead. He couldn't entirely blame them for thinking so.

With his head still fuzzy, he had acted uncharacteristically, had wanted someone to believe him, and had revealed that he had transmigrated… all because he had a tiny hope that maybe they could help him find a way back home.

Now after hearing that question from Adrian, he was hit with a sense of reality.

Of course, why would they trust him?

If Vyan were in Adrian's shoes, he wouldn't trust someone like that.

So, there was no point in telling them about him—about who he was, what his world was like, or how he didn't belong here.

He should take his leave. This family… as much as they had resemblance to him and Iyana were still strangers—people he didn't know, people he couldn't burden.

Not to mention, just looking at that woman… it tore his heart apart.

He wanted to be with Iyana so bad. His eyes were longing to just a glimpse of her awake—warm and loving. But this woman wasn't Iyana. He had already forgotten her name. But she wasn't his Iyana, that much he knew. She was someone else's wife.

It was a crime to even glance at her.

But he couldn't help it. If he stayed, his traitorous gaze would linger, even if he didn't want it to. Setting aside the fact that he would want to punch himself for doing that, he was sure Adrian would knock out a few of his teeth as well.

Subconsciously, his gaze drifted from Adrian to Emma as she emerged from the kitchen after putting away the ice cream in the fridge.

As her gaze met his, his eyes stung and he looked away.

Ah… he missed Iyana. So much. It was painful. He wanted to know how she was. What was she doing? Was she waiting for him? He hoped that she was.

He wanted to run to her and give her a tight hug. He wanted to cry his heart out. After crying and sobbing by himself for nine days straight—which back then felt agonizingly long and neverending—he wanted to be comforted by her, wanted to hear her say, "I am here now, Vee, and I am okay. I will always be with you, sou never have to cry alone again."

"Are you going to leave?" Emma inquired, and his heart got pricked.

Gosh, how can two people's voices sound so similar too?

Composing himself, he quickly said, "Yes, I'm going to head out now."

If he stayed here any longer, he might just go crazy.

Yep, he should leave. The sooner, the better.

As he took a step towards the door, he remembered something. He couldn't do it earlier. But he should.

He turned to Emma and offered a crooked, lopsided smile. "Thank you, Miss—" he paused, a sheepish look crossing his face, "—sorry, I actually forgot your name, even though I had asked."

Emma raised an eyebrow but chuckled, clearly not offended. "Emma."

"Right, Ms. Emma." He nodded, as if taking a mental note. "Thank you."

She tilted her head, smiling, wanting him to elaborate.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said softly. "Uh, for letting me rest. For not calling the authorities, even though you work for the law. And for the very chocolatey pancake; I loved it. That was... really kind of you. Even though you didn't have to do any of that."

Emma leaned her shoulder against the kitchen entrance, giving him a wide smile, her arms crossed loosely. "Sure thing. But you really don't have to leave right away, you know. You can rest here for a few more hours. No one's kicking you out."

Vyan glanced at Adrian.

"Yeah, don't worry about Adrian. I can convince him."

Adrian rolled his eyes.

Vyan shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching as if he appreciated the offer but had already made peace with his decision.

"It's okay," he said honestly. "I'll manage."

Even if he had no idea where he was going or how he'd survive. Even if it was sweltering hot outside and his mana had no signs of returning. His pride simply wouldn't allow him to freeload any longer—especially not from a man who looked like him, or from a woman who felt too much like the love he'd lost.

"You've already done enough. Thank you."

Then, Vyan turned to the little boy in his father's arms.

Elian.

The little ray of sunshine who had grounded Vyan to this world when he felt like he was slipping out of existence.

The hug that he had given Vyan, mistaking him for his dad, was everything Vyan had needed at that moment. His tiny hands alone had managed to anchor him.

In other words, Elian had saved his life. For that, Vyan was really grateful.

"Elian, right?" Vyan offered a soft smile, voice even gentler now, and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Vyan."

"Hello, Vyan," Elian mumbled cutely, feeling a little sad. "Sorry if I made you feel weird by calling you my daddy at first."

"You've nothing to be sorry for." Vyan's smile got wider. "Because to be frank, your dad and I do look alike; it's easy to get confused. So, don't worry about it. You're a really nice kid who deserves all the happiness in the world. Thanks a lot for trusting each of my words."

Elian's brows furrowed in quiet sadness. "Are you going back to your grand duchy? You don't have to go… You can stay here as Daddy's twin."

Vyan huffed a tiny laugh, one of those bitter-sweet ones that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I have to, kiddo. Because I'm not actually his twin." He ruffled the boy's hair gently. "But I was glad to have met you, though."

"Okay, you can go, but don't cry anymore, alright?"

"When did I even cry?" Vyan rolled his eyes with mock offense, a teasing lilt in his voice. But Elian didn't answer.

Because his mother had told him not to.

Vyan had no idea, but earlier—while he lay fast asleep in the guest room—Emma and Elian had come to check on him. And what they saw would stay with them far longer than he'd ever guess.

He'd been crying.

Not the kind that slipped down silently. He had whimpered, pleaded in broken gasps for someone not to leave him. His body trembled, breath caught in his throat as if he were choking on a memory too cruel to name. He twisted in the sheets like he was still fighting a battle, one that wasn't over—one he was losing even in dreams.

And god, he looked just like Adrian.

That familiar face, contorted in silent agony, had struck something raw in both of them.

Adrian sighed.

He could already see it in Emma and Elian's eyes that they wanted Vyan to stay here for a bit longer.

These two really were kind to a fault, Adrian knew that. While Emma didn't completely believe Vyan was actually a grand duke, Emma had felt bad for him regardless. She really thought Vyan was a college student who had an accident or something and was suffering from delusions.

But that didn't mean Adrian could trust Vyan so easily.

Everybody had their fair share of troubles in life. Perhaps, Vyan did too. But that wasn't his family's burden to bear. They already had enough on their plates.

Adrian watched silently as Vyan went into the guestroom to pick up his coat.

Sighing, he placed Elian down from his arms and headed upstairs to go check up on his daughter and to change out of his clothes.

The guestroom door creaked open quietly, and Emma watched as Vyan stepped out, his coat folded neatly over one arm.

Her eyes met his as he walked toward her, a sense of quiet resolve etched into his features.

"I have to ask for one last favor. Can you tell me the way to the nearest library?"

"Library? Why do you want to know where a library is?"

Vyan shrugged lightly. "Well, I have to help myself somehow, don't I?" His tone wasn't bitter—just plainspoken, matter-of-fact. "I know you don't believe a word I've said. I probably wouldn't either, if I were you. But the truth is… I really don't have anyone in this world. So if I want to understand where the hell I've landed, I figured the best place to start would be a library."

Emma didn't reply right away. Something in his voice tugged at her—something hollow, lonely, almost tired. Not just tired in the physical sense, but the kind of tired that had been slowly killing him from the inside.

She hesitated, then said gently, "You know… even though it seemed like I was completely made fun of you earlier… I'm really concerned that maybe you actually have a head injury. I'm not sure I should be letting you back out there. There's a lot of bad people out there, and they tend to target young, vulnerable people like you."

Vyan offered a faint smile at that. "It's alright. I promise I'm fine in the head." He tapped the side of his temple lightly, half in jest. "No cracks."

But Emma seemed unsure.

"I'm even good at fighting, even though I don't look like it."

Still, she wasn't quite convinced.

There was something about him. He reminded her a little too much of Adrian. Not just the face… but the energy. The presence. The way he hid his struggles.

She crossed her arms and asked, trying to sound casual, "Why don't you at least tell me your full name? I could run it through our database. Maybe you'll pop up. If we can find your address, I could drive you home."

Vyan looked at her, a soft smile ghosting over his lips. It was a distant, unreadable expression—like someone staring at an old painting they loved but could no longer touch.

"My home… isn't here," he said quietly. "So I'm pretty sure you won't be able to find a way to drive me there."

Emma's chest twisted again.

He smiled a little more, just enough to be polite. "Either way… thanks for the offer."

She exhaled, shaking her head with a half-laugh. "Well, I should at least know the name of the random stranger I've helped, fed, and may or may not have kidnapped off a park"

There was a beat of silence. Vyan hesitated, clearly weighing how much to say.

Then, with a small sigh, he gave in. "It's Vyan Blake Ashstone."

"Vyan? As in V-I-A-N? Or V-Y-A-N? Or V-A-Y-A-A-N?"

Vyan arched an eyebrow, suspicious. "Why does the spelling of my name matter?"

Before she could cook up an answer, her gaze flicked to the silver locket resting against his sternum. The metal glinted under the light, and just barely, she could make out the engraving—VYAN.

A smile curled on her lips. "No reason," she said lightly. "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious because it's a pretty name."

He didn't reply right away, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Still, he let it go.

Once she told him the way to the nearest library and he waved a final goodbye at Elian, he was gone. Like he had never been here in the first place.