Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

Sitting at the back of the classroom, I leaned my elbow on the desk and stared at the faint lines of the grainy wood, tracing patterns idly as I tried not to zone out. The lecture hall was grand, its ceiling arched and lined with banners depicting historical symbols of demon royalty. Massive windows cast streams of pale light over rows of desks arranged in crescents around the podium. At the front of the room, a tall, stern-looking man our new history professor adjusted the cuffs of his perfectly tailored black coat. His appearance screamed "academic overlord," from his silver-threaded horns to the piercing red eyes scanning the room for trouble.

Professor Valmor, the man who apparently thought punctuality and order were synonymous with divine virtue, clapped his hands sharply. The sound echoed through the hall, instantly silencing the low hum of chatter.

"Good," he said in a voice that felt like steel wrapped in velvet. "You've all learned to shut up when I command it. Promising start."

A few students exchanged uneasy glances. I stifled a laugh. Enara, sitting two seats to my left, didn't bother to hide her smirk. She leaned back with the casual arrogance of someone who could turn this class into a battleground if she wanted. Typical Enara. Explore hidden tales at empire

Professor Valmor's gaze landed on me for a moment, then shifted to the rest of the class. "Today's lecture is not a simple retelling of demon history. It is a dissection. We will not romanticize the past but examine it, tear it apart, and understand the truth behind the myths. Let's see who among you can handle that."

Great, I thought. Another teacher with a god complex.

[He sounds like someone who wakes up and practices glaring at mirrors,] the system quipped in my head.

Not now, I shot back mentally.

Professor Valmor gestured, and a map appeared in the air behind him, glowing with intricate runes. It showed the demon lands divided into different regions, some names unfamiliar even to me. He pointed to a vast stretch of darkened territory in the northeast corner.

"Who can tell me what this region represents?"

A student in the front row raised their hand. "The Abyssal Wastes, where the Dark Sovereign waged her final war."

"Correct," Valmor said with a nod, though his tone suggested he expected nothing less. "The Abyssal Wastes were not always barren. Long ago, they were the heart of a thriving kingdom one that the Dark Sovereign burned to the ground in her quest for absolute power."

At the mention of the Dark Sovereign, my stomach churned. I kept my expression neutral, but my mind raced.

[This is awkward, isn't it?] the system chimed in again.

You think?

The professor continued, his tone growing colder. "The Dark Sovereign's reign is a stain on our history. She ruled with cruelty unmatched by any monarch before or after her. Entire cities vanished overnight under her command. The earth itself rejected her presence, twisting into the desolation we now call the Abyssal Wastes."

My fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.

"Many of you may think you understand who she was. A tyrant, a villain. But the truth is more complicated and more dangerous. She did not rise to power through brute strength alone. She was a master strategist, a manipulator of emotions and minds. And perhaps most terrifying of all, she knew how to make people love her, even as she destroyed them."

The room was silent, the weight of his words settling over us like a thick fog.

Enara leaned toward me, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. "Cheerful topic, huh?"

"Thrilling," I muttered back.

Professor Valmor's sharp eyes landed on us, and I immediately sat up straighter. "Do you have something to add, Princess Enara?"

Enara smiled sweetly, though the glint in her midnight eyes was anything but innocent. "No, Professor. Please, continue enlightening us about how utterly terrible our ancestors were."

The class tittered nervously, but Valmor didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back to the map.

"The Dark Sovereign was eventually defeated or so the official records claim. The truth is murkier. Some say she was sealed away, imprisoned in a realm beyond our reach. Others whisper that she allowed herself to be captured, playing a long game none of us can comprehend. What we do know is this: she has not been seen in centuries, but her influence lingers. And there are those who believe she will return."

The room felt colder. I forced myself to take a deep breath, to keep my face blank.

[He's not wrong, you know,] the system said, unhelpfully.

You think I don't know that?

"And what about her lineage?" another student asked hesitantly.

Professor Valmor's expression darkened. "The Dark Sovereign had no children, at least none that history acknowledges. But if she did, they would be marked. Her bloodline would carry her power and her curse."

I swallowed hard. Beside me, Enara glanced my way, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Liria," she whispered, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

Professor Valmor didn't notice or perhaps he did and chose to ignore it. He waved his hand, and the map dissolved into a new image: a portrait of the Dark Sovereign herself. Her crimson skin glowed like molten rubies, her black horns spiraled toward the heavens, and her golden eyes seemed to burn through the canvas.

"She was not just a ruler," Valmor said, his voice low. "She was a force of nature. The Dark Sovereign represents the dangers of unchecked ambition, the price of power without restraint. Remember that."

I couldn't look away from the portrait, even though I wanted to.

[She's quite the dramatic one, isn't she?] the system remarked. [You'd think she invented the concept of villainy.]

Shut up, I snapped internally.

[Touchy, aren't we?] the system quipped, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I ignored it, forcing myself to focus as Professor Valmor stepped away from the portrait of the Dark Sovereign. He waved his hand again, and the image dissolved into a darkened map, highlighting the borders of her once-great empire.

"The rise of the Dark Sovereign did not occur overnight," Valmor began, his voice echoing in the silent lecture hall. "It was a carefully calculated ascent that spanned decades. She started as a nameless general in the demon armies, unremarkable save for her ability to inspire absolute loyalty among her followers. She was ambitious but patient qualities that allowed her to weave her web of power without detection. And when the time came, she struck with devastating precision."

He gestured, and the map lit up with red lines representing the rapid expansion of her influence. "At first, the sovereign states of the demon realm welcomed her leadership. She brought order where there had been chaos, prosperity where there had been poverty. Her rule was harsh but fair, or so it seemed."

A student in the front row raised their hand. "What changed?"

"What always changes when someone seeks absolute power," Valmor replied, his tone grim. "The mask slipped. Her true nature revealed itself as she began consolidating control. Those who resisted her authority were eliminated whole bloodlines wiped from history, entire cities reduced to ash. It was said that her armies marched with the cries of the damned echoing in their wake."

The room was so quiet that the sound of a pen dropping would have been deafening. I kept my head down, scribbling notes I wasn't sure I'd even need, just to avoid anyone noticing my expression.

[It's fascinating, isn't it? How they talk about her like she's a storm or a plague, not a person,] the system mused.

Not now, I thought, my hand tightening around my pen.

"The turning point came when she turned her gaze beyond the demon lands," Valmor continued. "The kingdoms of humans, elves, and other races had watched her rise with growing unease. They feared—rightly so—that she would not stop until she ruled over every corner of the world. And so, an alliance was formed. For the first time in recorded history, the mortal races and demonkind set aside their differences to face a common threat."

He paused, his eyes scanning the room as if daring someone to challenge him. No one did.

"They called it the War of Shadows," he said, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "It was the bloodiest conflict in our history. Entire generations were lost to the battlefield. For every victory the alliance achieved, the Dark Sovereign retaliated with a force tenfold greater. Her mastery of dark magic was unparalleled, and her armies seemed unstoppable."

A ripple of unease passed through the class. Even Enara, usually the picture of composure, shifted in her seat.

"Professor," a student near the middle row said cautiously, "how did they manage to defeat her? If she was so powerful, I mean."

Valmor's expression darkened. "That is the question, isn't it? Officially, the alliance succeeded in sealing her away, trapping her essence in a prison beyond the reach of this world. But the details of how they achieved this feat remain shrouded in mystery. Some accounts speak of a weapon forged from the combined magic of the allied races. Others hint at betrayal from within her own ranks. And then there are those who claim she allowed herself to be captured, though why she would do so is a matter of speculation."

The room buzzed with nervous whispers. I stared at my notes, my heart hammering in my chest.

[Allowed herself to be captured? Bold move if true,] the system said, its tone annoyingly casual.

Do you ever stop talking? I shot back.

[Not when you're this entertaining.]

"Regardless of the method," Valmor continued, silencing the murmurs with a sharp glance, "her defeat came at a terrible cost. The alliance fractured in the aftermath, their mistrust of each other rekindled. The demon realm was left in chaos, its territories carved up by opportunistic warlords. And as for the Dark Sovereign's prison..." He trailed off, his gaze distant.

"What about it?" Enara asked, her voice breaking the tense silence.

Valmor hesitated, then said, "Its location remains unknown. Some say it lies deep within the Abyssal Wastes, hidden by layers of enchantments and curses. Others believe it exists in a plane beyond our comprehension, accessible only to those who possess the means to cross the veil between worlds."

He turned back to the class, his expression severe. "What you must understand is this: the Dark Sovereign's influence did not end with her imprisonment. Her followers those who survived dispersed but did not disappear. They became a shadowy network, working tirelessly to prepare for her return. To this day, rumors persist of cults and conspiracies dedicated to her cause."

The atmosphere in the room was heavy, oppressive. I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of unspoken truths.

[He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?] the system remarked.

Because he's not wrong, I admitted reluctantly.

Valmor's gaze swept over the class one final time. "The Dark Sovereign is more than a historical figure. She is a cautionary tale a reminder of what happens when power goes unchecked, when ambition consumes everything in its path. Learn from her story, or risk repeating it."

With that, he turned to write something on the board, his back to the class.

Enara leaned over again, her voice low. "You're weirdly quiet, Liria. Normally you'd have some sarcastic comment by now."

"I'm just taking it all in," I said, forcing a smile.

She frowned, clearly not convinced, but didn't press further.

As the lecture continued, my thoughts spiraled. I couldn't stop thinking about what Valmor had said about the Dark Sovereign's supposed defeat, her prison, her lingering influence.

And most of all, I couldn't stop thinking about the one thing I knew that no one else in this room did.

The Dark Sovereign wasn't just a figure from history.

She was my mother.