I Am a Villain, So What?-Chapter 123: Rewards

The simulation dissolved into motes of light, and the opulent reality of the Imperial Banquet Hall reasserted itself.

The magical screens faded, replaced by the glittering crystal chandeliers. The smell of blood and ozone was gone, replaced by the scent of expensive perfume and roasted duck.

For a moment, there was silence. Then—

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

It started as a ripple and grew into a tsunami.

"Prince Valerius! Prince Valerius!"

The nobles were chanting his name. The footage of the final "Sunfall"—the golden beam that had obliterated the Undead Warlord—was replaying on the massive screens above the dais. It was the perfect propaganda piece: the Golden Prince saving the world from darkness.

I quickly stepped off the teleportation platform, blending into the crowd of other returning participants. My Shadow-Weave Suit retracted its helmet, the nanoweave fiber folding neatly into the collar, revealing my face.

I ran a hand through my hair. I looked like a mess—sweaty, disheveled, and pale from mana exhaustion.

"Lucien!"

Ariana ran over from the spectator area, weaving through the crowd of celebrating nobles. She looked relieved, her eyes wide with worry.

"You’re okay! I saw the explosion on the screen! When the Warlord hit you, I thought you were—"

"I’m fine," I interrupted, leaning on her shoulder slightly to steady myself. "Just tired. That Kinetic Dispersal takes a lot out of the user."

I looked up at the main leaderboard.

[Final Rankings]

Valerius Aurelian: 5,200 PtsLucien Ashborne: 3,100 PtsKael Terra: 1,500 PtsElisha Ignis: 1,200 Pts

Second place.

It was a landslide victory for the Prince, as expected. But the gap between 2nd and 3rd was massive. I had more than doubled the score of the so-called "Protagonist."

I had solidified my position.

The atmosphere in the hall shifted. The casual, boisterous chatter of the nobles died down, replaced by a heavy, reverent silence as the Head Butler stepped up to the podium.

The Award Ceremony began.

This wasn’t just handing out trophies. These awards were named after the Empire’s founding heroes. Receiving one was tantamount to receiving a knighthood.

The Head Butler unrolled a scroll sealed with gold wax.

"The Nightingale Award, for a Healer who devoted herself entirely to the survival of her team, goes to... Lady Mariella Arlon!"

"Eek!"

Mariella squeaked, startling everyone nearby. She shyly stepped forward, her face flushed a deep crimson. She grabbed the crystal trophy shaped like a dove, tried to bow and flee at the same time, but was stopped by the blinding flash of the official photographer.

Click.

She bolted back to her friends the moment the flash went off.

"Ugh... that was so overwhelming," she whimpered, hiding behind Bord’s massive frame.

"It’s okay, you did great," Bord said, patting her head with a paw-like hand.

But Elisha couldn’t offer comfort. She was standing next to them, consumed by one thought, barely noticing the ceremony.

Her eyes were glued to the man standing in the corner, dressed in a black military coat that still faintly hummed with residual mana.

’Lucien Ashborne.’

She sank into deep thought, her brow furrowed.

’That sniping... that movement...’

She recalled the scene on the magical screen. The way he had stood on the ridge, dismantling the enemy formation with cold, mechanical precision. The way he had switched to a knife and danced through the skeletons. The way he had faced the Undead Warlord not with panic, but with a terrifying calmness.

It didn’t make sense. The Lucien she knew—the one from the rumors—was arrogant, lazy, and incompetent. A villain who bullied the weak because he was weak himself.

But the man on the screen was a soldier. A veteran.

"The Iron Wall Award, for a Vanguard with no retreats in over a hundred skirmishes, goes to Lord Bordon Eisenwald!"

Bord lumbered up to the stage, accepted the heavy shield-shaped trophy with a grin, and returned, looking proud.

"The Golden Rose Award, for displaying leadership and valor befitting the Imperial Bloodline, goes to Princess Celestia Aurelian!"

Celestia ascended the stairs gracefully. Her dress was pristine, not a speck of dust on it despite her participation. She accepted the award with a perfect curtsy.

As she walked down, she didn’t look at the audience or the cameras. She looked directly at Lucien. Her blue eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

’You showed your fangs,’ her gaze seemed to say. ’Good boy.’

"Haa."

Elisha sighed, the sound lost in the applause.

"The Crimson Magus Award, for the highest kill count among magic users, goes to Lady Elisha Ignis!"

"...."

Silence.

"Lady Elisha?"

"Hey, Elisha. It’s you."

"Huh? Oh, right."

Bord’s nudge saved her. Elisha shook her head, snapped out of her daze, and walked up to receive the award. She smiled for the camera, but her eyes were hollow.

She returned to her spot, clutching the trophy without looking at it.

Now, only the major awards remained.

The Head Butler cleared his throat. The tension in the room spiked.

"Now, the Champion’s Award. Given to the participant who secured the highest contribution points and led the Allied Forces to victory."

Everyone knew who this was. There was no suspense.

"His Highness, Prince Valerius Aurelian!"

Applause erupted like thunder. Valerius stood, waved gracefully, and accepted the golden laurel wreath. He looked every bit the Sun God—undeniable and brilliant.

But the Butler wasn’t finished.

"And finally... a Special Award. Named after the Empire’s First Shadow, General Kuro, for the participant who displayed the most outstanding strategic impact."

The room went deadly silent. Even the waiters stopped moving.

Elisha looked up at the aged Butler.

"This individual single-handedly neutralized the enemy’s Siege Magic, assassinated the opposing Command Structure, and bought the crucial thirty seconds needed to slay the Undead Warlord."

The Butler paused, his eyes scanning the crowd over his spectacles.

"A performance of cold efficiency and lethal precision. We present the Shadow of the Dawn Award to..."

The Butler took a deep breath.

"Lucien Ashborne."

A collective gasp swept through the hall like a sudden draft.

"Ashborne? The Fallen Baron’s son?" "The one rumors called a disgrace?" "He did that? That sniper was him?"

I pushed off the wall.

I adjusted my collar, keeping my expression bored, as if I were walking to get a glass of water rather than accepting one of the highest honors in the Empire.

I walked up the aisle.

The crowd parted. Some looked at me with fear. Others with confusion. And a few—the older military officers—with newfound respect.

I ascended the stairs.

Valerius was still standing there on the dais. The Prince smiled, a genuine, knowing smile, and moved aside, giving me the center stage.

I accepted the award—a black dagger encased in pure crystal.

I turned to face the crowd.

I didn’t smile. I didn’t wave. I just looked at them with deep, abyssal eyes that promised nothing but silence.

Up on the VIP balcony, Princess Rumina leaned over the railing, swirling her wine glass. Her predatory grin widened, exposing sharp teeth.

’Finally,’ she mouthed. ’A monster worth hunting.’

Elisha watched him, a chill running down her spine. The "trash" of the Academy was gone. In his place stood something far more dangerous.

As the applause washed over me, a cascade of mechanical chimes rang in my head, drowning out the cheers of the nobility.

[System Notifications]

[Achievement Unlocked: The Shadow of the Dawn]

Description: In the Imperial Dungeon Tournament, a mere side story in the original plot, you left an impression of martial prowess and cold elegance that surpassed the protagonists.

Effect: Your name has been recorded in the hidden annals of Imperial History.

[Relationship Updates]

Princess Rumina: Has marked you as a ’Prey of Interest’. (Danger Level: High)

Prince Valerius: Has acknowledged your existence as a ’Rival’ and ’Potential Asset’.

Elisha Ravencroft: Her perception of you has shifted from [Contempt] to [Fear/Suspicion].

Mariella & Bordon: Will remember your cold efficiency.

[Rewards]

Reputation: +500 (Imperial Nobility)System Points: +5,000

My eyes dazzled at the number. Five thousand points. Combined with my previous balance, I was swimming in wealth.

I closed my eyes, letting the digital blue screen fade into the blackness of exhaustion.

*****

[Next Morning - Ashborne Residence ]

"Master? Master, wake up."

The darkness was gently peeled away by a soft voice.

I opened my heavy eyelids. Warm morning sunlight greeted me, streaming through the window that had just been thrown open.

Standing there, backlit by the sun like a domestic angel, was Lily.

"Breakfast time, Master."

She tied the curtains back, letting the fresh air flow through her strawberry-blonde hair. It carried the scent of morning dew and... butter. Lots of butter.

"You slept like a log," Lily giggled, walking over to the bed. "Come on. Today’s special. I made your favorite."

"My favorite?" I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my stiff neck. The phantom pain from the Warlord’s punch still lingered in my muscle memory.

"Yes! Slow-Braised Brisket Hash," she announced proudly. "Sautéed with sweet peppers and caramelized onions, topped with a poached egg and a drizzle of truffle hollandaise."

My stomach let out a treacherous roar.

Led by her hand, I stumbled out of bed and into the dining area attached to the kitchen.

The aroma was irresistible. It was the smell of home, of safety, of calories I desperately needed.

I sat down.

Stare.

I felt a burning gaze from across the table.