As a Villain I Really Don’t Want To Be Pursued by the Heroine

52

After a good while, Charlotte recovered from her social death, straightened her face, and looked serious again.

However, the adorable faint pink that still lingered on the girl’s face spoke of the embarrassment she had just experienced.

Roy, in the spirit of a gentleman, would not mock the girl’s moment of social death, but he couldn’t help finding the princess’s blunder endearingly girlish.

Of course, whether as a mere subject or a male friend, it would be quite rude to say it outright.

“There’s no need to apologize for the dance, after all, it was Leon’s trouble, not your fault, but if you really want to apologize…”

At this point, Charlotte casually played with her hair, her gaze drifting.

“Just consider this dance as a debt you owe me, and make sure to make it up next time.”

“Is just making up for a missed dance enough?” Roy was somewhat surprised, “No need for an apology or anything of the sort?”

Charlotte in the original work didn’t seem so easygoing, did she?

I recall a plot where Alice failed to make it to their date on time, was a bit late, and that got Charlotte quite irate for a while, giving her a piece of her mind.

Charlotte is that typical tsundere princess; despite cherishing others in her heart, she’s too proud to lower her guard, often speaking quite rudely.

Unless her affection is high enough, she shows a sour face to everyone.

I thought that even if she didn’t get angry this time, I’d still inevitably get an earful, but Charlotte’s attitude was surprisingly pleasant.

“I’m not some tyrant, no need for apologies!” Charlotte glared at him with feigned annoyance, then pouted sulkily, “What, you’re not happy about it?”

“No, no, no, I couldn’t be more thrilled to dance with Charlotte!”

“Hmph.”

“It’s just a pity that we’ll have to wait a long time for another dance of this scale.”

Roy felt a tinge of regret.

After all, the kingdom only has one duke and two marquises; it’s not like there are birthday banquets every day. And the banquets below the rank of marquis, the royal family doesn’t bother with them, and they’re much less grand.

But Charlotte raised an eyebrow, a hint of anticipation in her eyes, suggesting, “That might not be the case.”

“Perhaps, there will be an opportunity very soon?”

Roy was puzzled, wondering what events were upcoming in the noble circles, but Charlotte had already hurriedly risen.

Before leaving, the princess made sure to turn around and instruct him, with a serious face, “In any case, you owe me a dance now, and you can’t miss it this time!”

Roy responded with a smile, “Definitely this time!”

——————————————

After the birthday banquet of Duke Raymond, Roy’s life returned to its peaceful routine.

Or perhaps not so peaceful.

“Raise the sword—slash!”

In the early morning, before the rooster crowed and the dawn barely breaking, Roy stood on the grass outside the Marquis’s manor, wielding a wooden sword, performing tedious swordsmanship training under Karl’s supervision.

Gaining Karl’s approval was a good thing, but it also meant that Karl officially saw him as the heir, pushing him harder.

To become a qualified noble, one must have both political acumen and extraordinary powers; the former is the shiny facade, the latter the foundation of a noble’s position.

Roy’s performance at the previous banquet could be said to have scored nearly perfect marks, which deepened Karl’s expectations of him.

In the words of Roy’s past life, ‘My son Roy has the makings of a great emperor!’

Facing his father’s trust, Roy was in pain yet joyful.

Tiring as it was, the increase in strength was genuine.

For the extraordinary to grow stronger, they must assimilate magic potions, and there are two ways to do so.

One is to understand the essence of the potion.

Each transcendent bloodline holds a unique essence. For instance, the “Ironblood” requires one to endure battles of life and death to awaken its extraordinary power and elevate the lineage.

Moreover, it must be a genuine battle of life and death to be effective. The ancestors of the Ainsworth family had tried being beaten to near-death, or hiring mercenaries to go easy on them, but all attempts ended in failure.

The essence of a bloodline cannot be fooled.

Yet, this notion is too contrary to human nature. A misstep in a battle of life and death could lead to instant demise. Transcendents are treasured beings; how could they possibly be thrown into such perilous situations?

Fortunately, there is a second path.

Frequent use of transcendent powers can also neutralize the effects of magical potions. This method is universal to all bloodlines, albeit slower.

In essence, it’s about grinding proficiency, practice makes perfect.

Karl also personally enters the fray to spar with Roy, guiding his combat skills.

This has been immensely beneficial for Roy.

Karl is a veteran of countless battles, a top transcendent of the kingdom, well-versed in the precious experience bought with blood on the battlefield, not something Roy could catch up with by mere brainstorming.

It’s a level far beyond the street brawling skills of Ryan.

If last time was about leveraging creative tactics to seize the initiative by surprise, now Roy, armed with Karl’s battlefield wisdom, wouldn’t flinch even in a head-on clash with Ryan.

“Let’s wrap up the warm-up; it’s time to spar.”

Indeed, Karl’s role is more of a mentor, as true combat requires an opponent of matching strength to be meaningful.

Under the clear morning breeze, a strand of platinum hair tied into a short ponytail sways with the wind, dispersing a faint scent of irises.

The golden-haired girl, clad in a pristine white shirt and a pitch-black skirt, with wrist and knee guards, lifts her wooden sword with a serious demeanor.

At a glance, she truly embodies the spirit of a female swordsman.

Alice, now a transcendent herself, has joined the training, providing perfect company for Roy.

“May I ask for the master’s guidance today as well.”

“Mhm. Come at me.”

As the words fall, Alice, with a tense expression, raises her sword high, closing the distance in two swift steps, like a hound pouncing on its prey.

“Yah!” With a delicate cry, the wooden sword descends, and a faint trace of sweat glistens.

Ah, how utterly adorable!

Despite the sentiment, Roy shows no mercy, swiftly drawing his sword to meet the challenge.

This too is part of the training regimen.

Although he started earlier, with Alice becoming a transcendent, Roy must now formally commence his own development plan.

Strengthening himself is merely for fun, but Alice’s growth is the true pillar for the later stages!

As usual, Roy, with his “Indestructible Bare Hands,” easily overpowers Alice, then proceeds to analyze her defeat and offer guidance.

“Alice, do you know why you lost just now?”

“Because the master is too powerful!” Alice looks up in awe, her eyes shining with genuine admiration.

While the girl’s respect was gratifying to Roy, he shook his head and said, “No, it’s because you haven’t made good use of your extraordinary powers.”

Roy could win because he used “Immortal in Hand-to-Hand,” turning a wooden sword into an expert’s tool.

But Alice didn’t use any extraordinary powers.

Even if she wielded her sword with style, she was still just an ordinary fifteen-year-old girl. The few rounds she lasted were all because Roy let her.