The Villain Professor's Second Chance-Chapter 384: Perhaps This Time

Aurelia’s fingers tightened around the collar of my coat, her eyes blazing with anger—an anger that soon gave way to something else. I watched her expression shift, the fury softening into something more vulnerable, something pleading. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped me, and for the first time since I’d met her, I saw Aurelia without the mask of fire and sharp words. There was desperation in her eyes, a raw, unguarded look that made me pause.

"Please, Draven," she said, her voice low, almost cracking. "Just tell me the truth. This... Is a comman from your queen..."

Somehow, she start referring me as Draven.

Of course.

I no longer see the point of hiding my identity to her, so I dropped the facade, and Aurelia is a genius. It would be easy for her to piece up the puzzles.

I studied her face, taking in the tension in her features, the way her jaw tightened, and the flicker of something almost like fear in her eyes. She’d always been fierce, always so sure of herself, never hesitating to call someone out or push forward. But here she was, standing in front of me, pleading—not with anger or arrogance, but with sincerity. It was a side of her I had never seen before.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Not when she was standing here like this, baring a part of herself that she rarely, if ever, showed to anyone. Slowly, I nodded. "I understand." My voice softened, losing some of its usual edge. "I’ll tell you everything."

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders seemed to lessen. She released her grip on my collar, her hands dropping to her sides as she stepped back, watching me with an intensity that didn’t waver.

"Thank you," she whispered, her tone almost vulnerable, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something in my chest—sympathy, perhaps, or something close to it. I wasn’t used to seeing Aurelia like this, and it left me momentarily disarmed.

"Let’s go back to the inn," I said, turning away from her and beginning to walk down the narrow street. The air was crisp, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the heavy atmosphere between us. "I’ll explain everything there."

The walk back to the inn was tense, the silence between us almost palpable. Aurelia walked beside me, her footsteps quiet, her gaze fixed ahead. There was no anger in her expression anymore—just a determination that seemed to have taken hold of her. It was as if a silent agreement had been reached between us, a truce of sorts.

As we approached the inn, I spotted Anastasia admiring the small garden in front of the building, her fingers brushing gently over the leaves of a flowering plant. She looked up as we approached, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Aurelia. Nearby, Lyan sat on a bench, his eyes lifted to the sky, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey," Aurelia called out, her voice firm but lacking the usual edge. "Both of you. We need to talk. Inside."

Anastasia blinked, her gaze flicking between us, curiosity sparking in her eyes. Lyan glanced at me, raising an eyebrow, but he stood up without question, following us inside.

The room we gathered in was small, cramped with a modest table surrounded by mismatched chairs. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken questions. Anastasia, true to her usual self, immediately moved to sit beside Lyan, her arm brushing against his as she leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Lyan gave a wry smile, his discomfort evident. He shifted slightly, trying to create some distance between them, but Anastasia didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she simply didn’t care. "You always make things so awkward, Anastasia," he muttered, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Aurelia, on the other hand, took a seat directly across from me, her gaze never leaving my face. She was focused, determined, and I could tell she wasn’t about to let me evade her questions. I sat down, folding my hands on the table, my eyes sweeping over the three of them—Aurelia’s fiery determination, Lyan’s thoughtful curiosity, Anastasia’s eager interest.

"Alright," I began, my voice cold and even. "I suppose it’s time I told you everything."

I paused for a moment, letting my words sink in. The room fell silent, all eyes on me, the anticipation almost tangible. I met Aurelia’s gaze, seeing the flicker of impatience in her eyes. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

"We’ve been through this before," I said, my tone matter-of-fact. "Approximately two hundred and eighty times, to be precise. Each time we fail to protect the City of Peace, we’re reset to a specific point in time. Every failure, every death—it all brings us back here."

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

The silence that followed was deafening. I watched as Aurelia’s eyes widened, shock flickering across her features. Anastasia, who had been leaning casually against Lyan, suddenly sat up straight, her mouth falling open in disbelief. Even Lyan, who had already suspected something, looked stunned by the sheer number.

"Two hundred and eighty times?" Anastasia whispered, her voice barely audible. "You mean... we’ve died that many times?"

I nodded, my gaze steady. "Yes. Each time we’ve tried, we’ve failed. Whether it was attempting to approach the altar near the city and getting killed by the guardian demons, being overwhelmed by the abyssal monsters while defending the city, or being teleported directly to Tiamat and meeting our end there—every attempt has ended in failure."

Aurelia clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as she absorbed my words. There was a fire in her eyes, a determination that refused to be extinguished. "So we’ve been failing over and over again," she said, her voice low. "And you’ve just been... keeping this from us?"

"I’ve been trying to find a way to break the loop," I replied, my tone cool. "But every time, no matter what I’ve tried, the result has been the same. I’ve attempted every conceivable strategy—protecting the city, investigating the altar, avoiding conflict altogether. Nothing has worked."

Anastasia’s usual enthusiasm had vanished, replaced by a seriousness I rarely saw from her. She looked at me, her eyes wide, her voice almost hesitant. "And the altar... we’ve tried investigating it before?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "We’ve tried approaching the altar numerous times. Each time, we were either killed by the guardian demons or triggered the abyssal monsters to spawn and flood the city. Every attempt has ended the same way."

Aurelia leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant, as if she were trying to process everything I had just told her. Her fingers tapped lightly against the table, a sign of her restless energy. "So what do we do now?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes.

Lyan, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. His expression was contemplative, his brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe we need to revisit the altar," he said slowly. "But this time, we stop before we reach the point that triggers the abyssal monsters. We need to observe, gather information without setting off the chain of events that leads to our deaths."

I looked at him, considering his words. It was a reasonable suggestion, one that might offer us a different perspective—something we hadn’t tried before. "It’s possible," I said, nodding. "We’ve always pushed forward, trying to reach the altar or protect the city directly. Perhaps this time, we need to take a step back and observe."

Aurelia’s eyes flickered with determination, and she straightened in her chair. "Then that’s what we’ll do," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We’ll go to the altar, but we’ll stop before we get ourselves killed. We need to figure out a plan, the most efficient way to stop the threat of those abyss monster bastards,"

Anastasia nodded, her usual cheer replaced by a serious determination. "If we’re going to do this, we need to be smarter than before."

Indeed.

Technically speaking, I find it no use to explain to them.

I though that it’s unnecessary, takes time, and unlike Lyan, I need to explain to them in a lengthy manner.

I believe that I could finish this myself.

No matter how long it might take.

But somehow, after telling everything to them, I feel like something lifted from my shoulders.

My brain that seem to stuck perhaps because of the pressure I inflicted on myself, start to get some ideas.

Explore more stories at novelbuddy.com

Perhaps this time.

We could leave this damned place.