Mystica: Reincarnated Into A Novel As A Villain With 3x Reward System
Chapter 37: One Year Later

Chapter 37: One Year Later

"..."

Astrea mumbled softly, "I am a Celestial Reaper... and you’re not... but we love each other..."

Arvian met her gaze. "Yeah... so now what?"

She hesitated before whispering, "My parents don’t know anything about you... so how could we..."

Before she could finish, Arvian—still under the control of his rotten heart—stood from his chair and stepped closer to her. Without a word, his hand moved slowly, starting from her foot, tracing over the fabric of her thin socks.

Astrea’s face turned red as warmth spread across her cheeks.

From her foot, Arvian’s fingers moved upward, slipping past the sock’s edge and onto her exposed flesh. His fingers moved slowly over the warmth of her leg, almost in a playful manner.

For a moment, Astrea’s body tensed and her breath caught, and then she felt a gentle chill. The only sounds in the room were the distant whisper of the night breeze coming through the open window and the slight rustle of pages.

She lowered her flushed face a little, but her eyes were still fixed on him, a flicker of something deeper and uncertainty in them.

From her leg to her waist, Arvian’s hand moved slowly upward. He traced the curve of her body with a firm yet gentle touch, then moved up to her face. His thumb rested just below her lips as his fingers touched her cheek.

Astrea’s breathing became erratic. His touch warmed her body while her thoughts raced. She barely managed to stutter, "A... are we doing this now...? But—"

Arvian closed the distance between them by leaning in before she could finish. His lips met hers...

Minutes passed as they remained close, their bodies pressed against each other, their warmth mixing.

Then—it happened.

A surge of energy erupted between them, glowing with an ethereal light. The power wrapped around them, crackling like lightning, shifting, reshaping—until it formed something entirely new.

A celestial radiance engulfed their bodies, and they were altered when the light eventually faded.

Astrea had changed into a sleek, dark suit that was completely black and fitted her figure flawlessly. Her shoulders and the upper portion of her toned arms were exposed, despite the elegant black gloves covering her arms. A sheer black mesh that ran from just above her breasts to her neck gave the ensemble a sophisticated and eye-catching appearance. She looked like a real Celestial Reaper because it matched her dark hair and sharp black eyes perfectly.

Arvian’s transformation was equally imposing. Beneath a long flowing black coat, a black shirt clung to his body, its edges glistening with a heavenly light. The most remarkable element was the glowing chain that now encircled him; it was half silver and half black, pulsing with energy and swirling like living smoke. His black pants finished the ensemble.

The chain coiled around them both, lifting them gently into the air. Their eyes locked, hands resting against each other, their energy intertwined.

Not just their outward looks, but something deeper, something unsaid, had changed in that instant.

One Year Later...

The training program had gone smoothly—until it didn’t.

Astrea was killed. Not by an enemy, not by an accident—but because the Rotten Heart had taken full control.

That moment changed everything.

Arvian turned against everything, including his fate, his so-called destiny, and even the heart that governed him. He did not just turn against the system. He refused to obey, rejected every rule forced upon him. He failed another Unhuman Mission, not by mistake, but by choice.

And the punishment was merciless.

He was sent to the Torture Realm.

One day in the real world equaled endless years in that cursed place.

He suffered for what seemed like an eternity. His voice was destroyed by the screams he let out. His eyes burned dry as he sobbed. He pleaded for assistance, but there was no response.

The realm’s creatures continued to move.

They burned him. Pierced him with searing-hot rods. Tore his flesh apart, only for it to regenerate, so they could do it again. His body, his mind—everything was shattered.

Time had no meaning.

The pain never ended.

He became nothing but a shadow of himself—a hollow existence trapped in endless agony.

And yet, he did not die.

He could not die.

Because this was not death.

This was torment beyond human comprehension.

Meanwhile, in the real world...

Arvian’s disappearance remained a mystery. The academy could not find any trace of him and could only assume he had vanished. His name became a whisper, a rumor—nothing more.

Elsewhere, the Velnoctenes had gathered in a new hidden underground chamber. Among them was Jaxyn’s father, standing at the head of the table, surrounded by rest of Velnoctenes. The war was about to be declared today, and they had already adjusted their plans.

The demon king was the main issue they had with Lioren. They had searched for weaknesses, but none could be found. So, they had devised only two options:

The first plan was straightforward: demand that Lioren be turned over to the government. There would not be a war if the authorities agreed. The government was likely to accept the offer because they were unaware of Lioren’s actual power.

But if the government refused...

Then war was the only path left.

Dareth had received the orders.

The nation’s leader and the governors were meeting at the academy today to talk about the war. They intended to return the academy’s customs to normal since there had been no battle.

Dareth stood on the top of a nearby building, his mask and Velnoctene cloak on. The smell of rain permeated the air, and the sky was dark with heavy clouds. His cloak rustled in the howling wind, which seemed to be pushing him on.

Then, without hesitation—he vanished.

Inside the grand chamber, the atmosphere was serious. Around a long table, the nation’s leader, governors, and professors were engaged in intense conversation.

And then—

A shadow flickered.

Suddenly a figure was on top of the table, standing squarely in the middle. His presence sent a cold shiver through the room.