“I… the prophecy said nothing about this…?”
Reading the atrocious details of the penalty, I scrambled through my old suitcase, my fingers finally closing around a worn-out sheet of paper. It looked like a worthless scrap, but it was a family heirloom, passed down through my line for over a thousand years.
So what was written on this ancient paper? To understand, one must first know the public prophecy, the one etched on a slab beneath the Colossus of the Great Hero, the largest sculpture in the Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Empire. It reads:
On the 1000th anniversary of the Demon Sovereign’s death, his heir will appear and devour the world. To stop him, you will need a hero with strength equal to my own.
This was the official testament of the Great Hero who defeated the original Demon Sovereign, words known across the land. The true prophecy, however, was written on the paper in my hands. It began the same, up to the part about needing a hero of equal strength, but what followed was a secret passed down from one generation of my family to the next.
“Father, these aren’t runes… or any ancient text I know. They’re too structured to be a cipher. What are they?”
“Ah… they are called Hero's Glyphs.”
My father, who revered the Hero, was proud to simply know the name of these mysterious characters. I, on the other hand, found their complexity irritating. In any case, the secret portion of the Hero’s prophecy continued as follows:
And that Hero will be my direct descendant, born exactly 1000 years after the Demon Sovereign’s death. So, future descendants, if you are reading this, open your eyes wide.
As the prophecy instructed, I widened my eyes. Colorful images and videos bloomed into existence on the page, followed by a greeting.
Let’s start the strategy guide.
Yes. The legendary Hero who defeated the Demon Sovereign a millennium ago, the very ancestor of my family, was from another world. According to his Ancestor's Chronicle, he had been playing a ‘game’ called ‘Dark Tale Fantasy’. Just after cursing it as a ‘SHIT game’, he’d lost consciousness to an unknown force, only to awaken in a world where that very game had become reality.
His prophecy was a Chronicle dozens of pages long, written in magical characters that only a direct descendant could view through space-distortion magic. It was, in essence, the story of how my ancestor used his “Game Knowledge” to barely scrape by and achieve a happy ending.
The important part, however, was that in my ancestor’s original world, the ‘game’ had a sequel: ‘Dark Tale Fantasy 2’. It was universally panned as a ‘dog shit game,’ ‘worse than part 1,’ and ‘made by the developers to torture players.’ According to my ancestor, who had played the sequel first, there was only one way to grant this world a true “Happy Ending”: the Hero had to destroy it first.
Only by doing so could one unlock the ‘system’ and the ‘Hidden Route’ needed to achieve that perfect ending.
And so, in the previous timeline, I committed unspeakable evils and brought the world to ruin. The guilt was a heavy stone in my gut—I had been raised by a kind father who was so proud that I was the Hero’s successor—but what choice did I have? If I hadn’t done it, the Demon Sovereign would have destroyed the world anyway.
After committing countless repulsive acts, even catching the Demon Sovereign himself off guard in the final moments, I regressed and earned the title “Way of the Scapegoat.” I hadn’t truly been evil, but a ‘False Scapegoat’ trying to save the world at my own expense. The problem was, the women who had hated me to death in that past life had returned with their memories intact.
“What am I going to do… This is so troublesome… Ha…”
I clutched my head, trying to recall the ‘Pillars of Destiny’ who should now remember everything.
The greatest genius on the continent, destined to become Chancellor. An Grand Magus with the potential to be the strongest on the continent. A Holy Maiden who appears only once in a millennium. A Shadowmancer who could have shrouded the world in darkness if not for her curse. And the Imperial Princess…
The sheer absurdity of it all was almost laughable. If I weren’t the scion of the revered Hero’s family and the first son of a ducal house with a thousand-year history, I’d probably already be dead in a back alley somewhere. Even that status wouldn’t mean much if the Princess weren’t, for the moment, a powerless figurehead at the very end of the line of succession.
Of course, within a few years, her extraordinary talent would make her first in line… but she couldn’t touch me right now.
…She can’t touch me, can she?
According to my ancestor’s game guide, the Pillars of Destiny were originally designed to fall in love with me. If things went well, a harem was even on the table. But at this rate, forget a harem—I’d be lucky if I wasn’t stabbed by all five of them. I would have to use every ounce of my cunning just to survive.
First… who is the most immediate threat?
Tomorrow is the Academy’s entrance ceremony, so I’ll be running into most of them there. The future Chancellor, who is also my fiancée, is the one exception; if I recall correctly, she’s currently traveling abroad. That leaves the Grand Magus, the Holy Maiden, and the Princess. I’ll have to face them tomorrow, but there’s nothing I can do about it tonight.
Then, the only heroine left is…
Knock, knock, knock…
As I was lost in thought, the dormitory door opened and someone stepped inside.
“Young Master, it is time for your meal.”
The moment I recognized the person who had entered, a tremor ran through me.
“What is it, Young Master?”
The person looking down at me with a blank expression was Shadowmancer, the female butler of our Ducal family. She was a cursed warlock, one of the Pillars of Destiny, and without a doubt, she remembered the previous timeline. Her short black hair, crisp black suit, and white gloves were her trademark. My father had found her and her sister wandering the streets and, recognizing her magical talent, brought her into our household.
In truth, my father had memorized her description from the prophecy and had been waiting on that very street specifically to find her.
In any case, I held two of her weaknesses in my grasp. The first was the knowledge that she was a warlock, a being condemned by the world. The second was her curse. The affliction gnawing at her life only stabilized when she was near me, the Hero’s direct successor. Because of this, she could never leave my side for long.
“Young Master, how should I prepare your meal?” Shadowmancer asked, her voice as cold as ice.
I asked for the usual. In truth, I couldn’t remember what I ate at this age, but surely she would figure it out. Besides… there was a definite killing intent in her voice, in her eyes. So she really did remember.
I had hoped the system’s warning was an error, a prank, but it seemed to be accurate. If that was the case, I couldn’t afford to be complacent. If I just sat here, the five heroines would find a way to murder me. Even now, they were probably…
False Scapegoat’s Intuition [A strong murderous intent is felt nearby!]
…Wait? What is this?
A red warning window had suddenly popped up before my eyes. Judging by the contents, it had to be related to Shadowmancer. But that was strange. I’d already sensed her killing intent, so why was this appearing only now?
I thought for a moment, then quietly opened the system window and tapped on the ‘Acquired Skills List.’
[Acquired Skills List]
- False Scapegoat’s Intuition Lv1
Description: With your intuition as a False Scapegoat, you can detect a deadly threat once a day.
Just as the Prophecy had explained, there it was. After reading the description carefully, I understood. This skill detected a deadly threat, once per day. It was exactly the kind of skill I needed, not knowing when an assassination attempt might come.
Wait, so my life is in danger right now?
The skill’s activation could only mean one thing: Shadowmancer, who was downstairs preparing my food, was planning to kill me. The method would be poison, wouldn’t it? Her curse left her too weak for an all-out fight against a descendant of the Hero’s line. For the same reason, she couldn’t use most of her black magic without my cooperation. Still, even without my help, if she pushed herself for hours, she could just barely conjure a lethal dose of poison.
“Young Master, I brought the soup you always enjoyed.”
Just as I was considering her methods, the dormitory door opened again. Shadowmancer entered, carrying a bowl of soup.
“There… I hope… you enjoy your meal.”
She looked exhausted. It was clear she had overused her black magic.
“When did I ask you to bring me soup?” I stared at her and grumbled under my breath.
“When did I… tell you to bring me soup…”
“But soup was always your favorite, Young Master…”
“And where did you get that idea?!”
My shout made Shadowmancer flinch, her eyes squeezing shut. She shuddered, spilling soup over the rim of the bowl as she struggled to speak.
“…Then what kind of food would you like me to bring?”
“Didn’t I tell you to bring what I always ate?” I snapped. “You idiot! Do I have to spell everything out for you? It’s a sandwich! A sandwich!”
“Y-yes, of course… I’ll have it ready for you right away…”
She clenched her teeth and staggered out of the room. As she left, a notification appeared.
[Acquired Scapegoat Karma: 1 pt! (Self-Defense)]
At the same time, a window materialized before me. That’s right. The ‘Way of the Scapegoat,’ the cheat system I’d obtained as a regression perk, awarded me points every time I committed an evil deed. These accumulated points would become the very medium I needed to save the world. For someone who was once the Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Sun-Blessed Empire’s Greatest Villain, it was the perfect system.
“Master, the sandwich you ordered.”
After a few moments spent studying the system window, a much more emaciated Shadowmancer re-entered the room, this time with a sandwich on a plate.
“Why is there no cheese? Go make it again.” I sent her back down, then continued to nitpick and overwork her. “Are you going to talk back to me now?”
“The surface of the bread is dry. Again.”
“The ham is too thick. Again.”
“Not enough pickles. Again.”
“The shape is a mess. Again.”
After countless trips between the kitchen and my room, she was clearly reaching her limit, but her eyes still burned with hatred.
“On second thought, I forgot to ask for tuna. Again.”
But when I ordered the sandwich for the eleventh time, she finally coughed up blood and collapsed to the floor, her body giving out from the strain of overusing her magic.
[Acquired Scapegoat Karma: 1 pt!]
[Acquired Survival Bonus Points: Extra 10 pts!]
[Accumulated Scapegoat Karma: 22 pts!]
I stared blankly at the windows that appeared one after another. Then I rose quietly and approached her unconscious form.
“…I’m sorry, Shadowmancer.”
Seeing her pained expression, I uttered an apology she would never hear. I gently carried her to the bed and placed my hand over her chest, beginning to infuse my own life force into her body.
Agony ripped through me, a feeling as if my entire body were being torn apart from within. This was the truth. The reason Shadowmancer’s curse weakened in my presence wasn’t because of some special power I possessed as the Hero’s heir. It was because I was actively giving her my own life force to hold her curse in check. My lifespan was slowly being whittled away, but what could I do? This was the unavoidable fate of a man who chose to live as a villain.
[Acquired Scapegoat Karma: 30 pts! (Self-sacrifice)]
[Accumulated Scapegoat Karma: 62 pts]
When I finished, a tingling numbness spread through me. I slid to the floor and sat against the bed, muttering with a sigh.
“This time, don’t you dare die on me, Shadowmancer.”
Looking down at her quietly shivering form, I used the moonlight filtering through the window as a light, my eyes falling once more on the last, oft-read line of the Ancestor's Chronicle.
When everything is over, the Hero will perish in vain alongside the Demon Sovereign.
It truly was a damned world.