VILLAINOUS SYSTEM: I am fated to be a villain in fantasy novel

Chapter 22 - the trial (1)

Morning sunlight streamed through the narrow cracks of half-closed curtains, casting soft golden rays across the boy's face. Slowly, William stirred. His sapphire-blue eyes blinked open, catching the shimmer of morning light. With a snap of his fingers, the room brightened—the crystal lamps flickering to life in gentle unison.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The polished marble floor reflected a faint, ghostlike image of his small frame as he walked toward the window. Drawing the curtains open with a fluid motion, he let the full embrace of the sun flood the room. Warmth kissed his skin

A knock echoed from the door.

"Enter," William said, voice calm but commanding.

The door opened, and a group of servants entered in perfect synchronization. Without a word, they approached the grand wardrobe nestled on the left side of the room and carefully retrieved a crisp white suit. Draped over one servant's arm was a sleek black leather overcoat—refined, sharp, and dignified.

William washed and dressed with quiet efficiency, every motion deliberate, every breath steady. Once ready, he descended the winding staircase where Edgar sat waiting at the long dining table. David, ever loyal, stood poised behind his master's chair.

Edgar's expression softened the moment he saw him. His eyes gleamed with pride, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. With a graceful gesture, he beckoned William to sit beside him. Their breakfast was simple, quiet, and untroubled—a rare moment of peace.

After the meal, Edgar departed for the Imperial Palace. William, as always, watched him closely, absorbing every detail of his posture, his timing, the subtle cues of his power. Minutes later, Edgar emerged again from the grand gates, this time alongside Lord Kimal. Behind them marched a procession of royal officials, their polished boots echoing on the palace stone. The convoy of black cars soon pulled out, heading toward the Trade Centre.

Meanwhile, William stepped out of the guest palace. The garden was in full bloom—roses and tulips swayed gently in the morning breeze, their scent weaving through the air like a lullaby. He took a moment to breathe it in before walking toward the palace's main gate.

A line of guards paced the perimeter, eyes sharp and hands on their weapons. One of them noticed William and quickly approached.

"Young master," the guard said, his voice both respectful and concerned, "what brings you out here?"

"I want to go to the market," William replied, his tone light, innocent—almost childlike.

The guard's expression tensed. "Forgive me, young master, but you can't leave without an escort."

"The capital is safe enough," William replied softly, almost as if stating a fact rather than asking for permission.

The guard hesitated. "Still... we have no orders to let you go alone."

At that, William's smile faded. His gaze sharpened, and his voice dropped.

"Are mere guards questioning the authority of House Medici?"

"N-No, young ma—"

"He may go," a second guard interjected suddenly, stepping forward. His words were firm, his posture resolute.

The first guard blinked in surprise. "But—why?"

The second guard didn't answer immediately. He simply nodded toward William, who gave him a polite smile and a soft "Thank you," before walking away.

As his figure grew smaller in the distance, the first guard turned, still confused.

"Why did you let him leave?" he asked.

"Lord Kimal's orders," the second guard murmured, eyes still following William. "We're to keep a close eye on him... no matter where he goes."

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William strolled through the bustling market streets, the air thick with the familiar metallic scent of essence-powered machines. Towering structures of steel loomed above, humming faintly with energy. It was the same path he had once taken with Yashir—each step echoing with memory.

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Are you sure Lord Kimal told us to observe him?" one voice muttered from the crowd. Clad in a leather suit, the man blended in effortlessly with the people around him.

"Yes," came the reply from the man beside him, his gaze locked onto William with the focus of a trained hawk.

"He's just a kid, though..."

"That doesn't matter," the other said. "Along with observing, we've been ordered to protect him."

William's eyes flicked to the right. Two men stood by a vendor's stall, pretending to examine goods, yet their eyes kept drifting toward him.

Then, a familiar voice chuckled inside his mind—light, mocking, and impossible to ignore.

[HA HA HA! Looks like they like you so much, they can't look anywhere else!]

It was Wiz.

William kept his expression calm, unaffected. "That's exactly why I brought Yashir with me," he thought.

He ignored the watching eyes. "I'll need to do something about this surveillance." The words slipped under his breath like a passing breeze.

Following the familiar route, he arrived at the same hotel. Nearby, the same vendor shouted the same exaggerated pitch:

"Come to me! I hold a treasure that will change your destiny! Even gods and demons will kneel before you! You will rule the world!"

Most people passed him by without so much as a glance. But William walked straight toward him, a childlike smile painting his face.

"Can I buy the treasure?" he asked sweetly.

The vendor's chest swelled with pride. "This treasure isn't for sale, young man. It's too powerful!"

"Then why don't you use it yourself?" William asked, feigning wide-eyed curiosity.

"Foolish child," the vendor scoffed. "This treasure does not obey buyers—it chooses its master. Only the worthy can wield it."

William flipped a gold coin between his fingers and held it up. "Can I at least see it?"

The vendor narrowed his eyes at the coin and chuckled. "You're lucky, kid. I'm in a good mood today."

With a theatrical flourish, he pulled out a polished bronze case. It gleamed under the sunlight. He opened it slowly, savoring the moment.

Inside was a single blue earring. It didn't shimmer or sparkle like ordinary jewelry. Instead, it pulsed with a calm, eerie depth—like a still ocean that whispered secrets. One could lose themselves just staring into it.

"May I hold it?" William asked, his voice soft.

The vendor, drunk on his own performance, carefully placed it in William's hand.

The moment William touched it and channeled a thread of essence into the earring—

Everything stopped.

Time froze. The vibrant chaos of the market turned to muted stillness. Color drained from the world until only black and white remained. The humming machines fell silent. The hammering of distant forges faded into a memory.

William stood alone in a world paused.

He stared at the earring, then smiled to himself.

"So the 'chosen master' is anyone with essence? How convenient."

Then William looked at the blue earring—the only hint of color in that otherwise colorless world.

It began to glow, a sharp blue light shooting upward like a pillar of fire. The glow intensified, growing brighter and brighter, until it completely engulfed him.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a vast, square room—everything from the floor to the ceiling and walls was pure white, untouched and sterile.

At the far end of the room, his eyes locked onto the earring, now floating at the center of a swirling sphere of energy.

A glowing screen appeared before him:

[ THE CHALLENGER HAS ENTERED THE TRIAL ]

Another line followed almost immediately:

[ THE CHALLENGER MUST WIN TO CLAIM THE EARRING ]

William took a single step forward—

Suddenly, three orbs of crackling energy materialized near the earring. They pulsed violently before bursting open. From within, three metallic, humanoid figures emerged. Each was the size of a grown man—tall, imposing, and far larger than William.

Then the screen flashed again:

[ THE TRIAL IS ABOUT TO BEGIN IN ]

[ 3 ]

[ 2 ]

[ 1 ]

[ THE TRIAL BEGINS ]