A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Duchess’s Summons

Chapter 6: The Duchess’s Summons

Andras opened his eyes slowly.

For several moments, he remained motionless beneath the dark silk sheets, his gaze fixed on the ceiling overhead. The room was quiet save for the faint whisper of wind brushing against the windows. Pale morning light filtered through the curtains, painting soft silver streaks across the stone walls.

He exhaled softly before pushing himself upright.

Almost instinctively, his eyes drifted toward the space beside him where Lyra had fallen asleep the night before.

Empty.

The sheets remained slightly wrinkled, still carrying traces of her presence, but she was already gone.

Andras wasn’t surprised.

Lyra understood the risk of staying after sunrise. If another servant discovered her in his room, rumors would spread through the estate before the morning meal had even ended.

Noble households thrived on gossip.

A household like Darkmoor even more so.

Resting against the headboard, Andras allowed himself a moment of silence.

Even now, part of him found the situation difficult to fully accept.

Less than a day ago, he had been an ordinary man living on Earth.

Now he was Andras Darkmoor.

A noble.

A mage.

And more importantly...

A man standing inside the world of Rise of the Sword Hero.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Compared to his previous life, this world felt infinitely more alive.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

The sound echoed through the room.

Andras turned toward the door.

"It’s Lyra, Young Master," a gentle voice called from outside. "May I enter?"

"You may."

The door opened quietly.

Lyra stepped inside, already dressed in a fresh maid uniform. Her long blue hair was neatly tied behind her back, while her dark eyes remained lowered toward the floor.

Andras noticed immediately that she avoided looking directly at him.

The events of last night still lingered in her thoughts.

A faint blush colored the tips of her ears.

"It is time for your bath, Young Master," she said softly. "I have prepared the hot water."

Andras studied her for a brief moment.

Her fear had not disappeared completely.

But another emotion had begun to take root alongside it.

Attachment.

He recognized it instantly.

Emotions made people predictable.

And predictable people were far easier to control.

"Very well."

Lyra nodded and quietly disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

The moment she left, Andras shifted his attention toward the faint blue screen hovering before him.

[Devouring System]

[Name — Andras Darkmoor]

[Class — Mage]

[Talent 1 — Echo Resonance (A-Rank)]

[Talent 2 — Architect of the Eternal Continuum ( SS-Rank)]

[Talent 3 — False Ceiling Break (C-Rank)]

His gaze lingered on the newest addition.

False Ceiling Break.

Simple, but useful.

For ten minutes, it tripled both physical strength and mana output. The drawback was a forty-eight-hour cooldown.

Not ideal.

But far from crippling.

In the hands of a powerful individual, such an ability could become devastating.

Andras leaned back slightly.

Three talents.

In this world, most people possessed only a single talent throughout their entire lives. Even the protagonist of Rise of the Sword Hero had only one—an S-Rank talent powerful enough to shake kingdoms.

Yet Andras possessed three.

One of them existed beyond the known ranking system.

If news of his abilities ever became public, the entire continent would descend into chaos.

Some would seek to recruit him.

Others would seek to eliminate him.

The thought was oddly amusing.

A few minutes later, Lyra returned.

"The water is ready, Young Master."

Andras rose from the bed and followed her.

The bathroom alone was larger than the apartment he had owned on Earth.

Smooth marble flooring reflected the warm glow of enchanted lamps fixed along the walls. Steam drifted lazily above a massive stone bath filled with crystal-clear water.

Stepping into the bath, Andras felt warmth spread through his body almost immediately.

The lingering tension in his muscles slowly faded away.

For a moment, he closed his eyes.

The comfort still felt unreal.

Back on Earth, life had been painfully monotonous.

Wake up.

Work.

Return home.

Eat.

Sleep.

Repeat.

The same cycle, endlessly.

No purpose.

No ambition.

Nothing truly worth remembering.

But this world was different.

Mana existed here.

Power existed here.

Opportunity existed here.

Kingdoms rose and fell beneath the will of powerful individuals. Talent separated rulers from the ruled.

This world suited him far better than the one he had left behind.

When he finally finished bathing, he stepped out and dried himself.

Lyra was already waiting outside with neatly folded clothes in her arms.

Without a word, she helped him dress.

A white noble shirt embroidered with silver thread.

Dark purple trousers tailored perfectly to his frame.

Black leather boots adorned with subtle silver patterns.

Finally, a dark cloak bearing the crest of House Darkmoor.

After adjusting his collar, Lyra hesitated before speaking.

"Young Master... I informed the Duchess that you had awakened."

Andras glanced at her.

"She was pleased to hear it," Lyra continued. "The Duchess requests your presence in the dining hall for breakfast."

At the mention of his mother, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Evelyne Darkmoor.

Duchess of House Darkmoor.

One of the most influential women in the kingdom.

Even in the original story, ordinary nobles did not dare offend her.

Fragments of memory surfaced within his mind.

Beautiful.

Intelligent.

Ruthless when necessary.

A truly dangerous woman.

"I understand," Andras replied calmly. "You may leave."

Lyra bowed before quietly departing.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence returned once more.

Andras walked toward the tall mirror standing near the wall.

His reflection stared back at him.

White hair.

Sharp features.

Cold purple eyes untouched by hesitation.

Even now, the face felt unfamiliar.

He had already died once.

Yet somehow, fate had placed him inside the body of a third-rate villain destined to vanish midway through the story.

A slow smile appeared on his face.

The original Andras Darkmoor may have died as a disposable character.

But he would not.

Turning away from the mirror, Andras strode toward the door.

It was time to meet the Duchess of House Darkmoor.