The Villainous Noble Regressed With The Villain System
Chapter 36: Class Division Exam [28]

Chapter 36: Class Division Exam [28]

ACT 3 : GLIMPSES OF CHAOS

Dorian’s Point of View

I had already retreated.

Slipped back into the shadows, away from the main paths, careful not to leave behind traces. The heat of the battle still burned faintly in my limbs, but I’d done what I came to do. Interference. Disruption. That was the order. And I delivered.

Aster’s group—perfectly synchronized, polished like a royal blade—was thrown into disarray. Lysa limping. Tolan half-shielded. Their timing thrown off. Their trust shaken.

Even a moment of hesitation in a dungeon like this could mean a loss. Especially with a tight time limit.

That should’ve been enough.It was enough.

Or so I thought.

I crouched beneath a shattered arch, veiled by creeping mist and magical debris, and mentally summoned the System window.

[Villain System ]

Task: Interfere with the Protagonist’s Exam

Progression Status: INCOMPLETE

What?

I narrowed my eyes.

Reason: "Minimal disruption detected. Objective deviation: 42%. Outcome still favors protagonist’s success trajectory."

I exhaled sharply.

They still think he’s going to pass.

Of course, they do. The System isn’t about surface-level inconvenience. It calculates narrative gravity—momentum of fate. And Aster Renholm’s fate wasn’t derailed. Just delayed.

Meaning my attack only added a few minutes of panic. A few wounds. Nothing permanent.

He would recover. Regroup. Adapt. That’s what protagonists do, isn’t it?

I clicked my tongue and leaned back against the wall, eyes scanning the mist as it thickened unnaturally. Something felt... wrong. Off-script. The illusion monsters had grown silent. The dungeon’s air had changed.

The pressure was heavier, like I was breathing through wet wool. And the whispers...

Yes. Whispers.

They came and went like breath, at the edge of thought. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Magic signatures around me flickered violently, as if the enchantments themselves were afraid.

That’s when I realized—something bigger than me or Aster had entered the game.

I removed my mask, and smelled a faint blood in this red hue of mist.

It was similar to that of the vampire whom I fought that time.

No, it was more intense than that.

At least a 1000 times stronger smell.

But now that there is mist all around, my vision was blocked.

I retreated from them, or else I would have been crushed by that party of protagonist in any instant.

If it was only the protagonist, I would have repeated my attack on him, but the other members are also strong.

Maybe stronger than him.

I truly underestimated them.

Particularly, that girl, whose neck was just in my grip, her attack left a deep wound on my abdomen.

It’s not bleeding, but the pain is still uncomfortable.

Yet, I couldn’t shake off this feeling of uneasy, as the red hue became denser and denser by each second.

It was even difficult to breathe.

So, what should I do now?

My goal would be to definitely go after the protagonist’s party.

But, was it truly necessary to fight with them, to interfere?

I closed my eyes, still crouched in the mist. My breath slowed.

No.

That would be foolish.

I had already lost the advantage. The element of surprise was gone. My blade, knocked from my hand during the skirmish, now lay somewhere in that corridor, likely picked up or shattered. My body was worn, still aching from that girl’s blow—whoever she was, she was far more dangerous than I expected.

Fighting them again now would be suicide.

But interference didn’t always require direct confrontation.

I shifted my thoughts.

Mist. Blood. The change in the dungeon’s atmosphere. The illusion beasts receding. Spells faltering.

And that pressure... like the sky had caved in underground.

Whatever was behind this red haze—it wasn’t part of the exam.

Which meant... it was a variable.

A wildcard.

Something the Academy hadn’t planned. Something even the System hadn’t accounted for until now.

My lips curved into a thin, calculated smile.

If I couldn’t break Aster with steel, I would let something else do it for me.

Let the world turn on him.

Whoever—whatever—was responsible for this mist had to be an entity powerful enough to suppress an entire enchanted dungeon. That wasn’t a feat of illusion or misfired spellwork. This was territorial control.

I had studied the theory.

Advanced-class monsters exert territorial influence. So do dungeon bosses. But this—this was something more ancient. Something born of hate.

So, I asked myself—

What does it want?

Blood? Mana? Chaos?

Probably all three.

And who would be more appetizing than a group of healthy, young magic wielders clumped together in the middle of a dungeon, already weakened, but still glowing with heroic potential?

Aster’s party wasn’t just a meal.

They were a challenge.

Predators love a challenge.

I rose slowly, pressing my hand to the cool stone wall and channeling a simple wind rune. The mist swirled faintly, showing me the path deeper into the dungeon—toward the source. I didn’t need to go far. Just close enough to lure the beast toward them.

It would be like leading a wolf to a flock of proud, unsuspecting lambs.

No, not lambs. Peacocks.

I pulled out one of the spell tokens I had taken earlier from a defeated monster—the kind that emits a faint mana trail. I had modified it with a cloaked signature. It now pulsed faintly with Aster’s own mana pattern—copied subtly during our clash.

Just enough to attract attention. Just enough to bait.

I planted it near a break in the path—close enough for the entity to follow, far enough that I wouldn’t be caught in its awakening.

Then I whispered beneath my breath, triggering the release.

Let’s see how noble you really are, Aster Renholm.

And just like that, the winds of chaos began to shift.

I didn’t need to fight anymore.

I only needed to watch.

And let the darkness devour the light.

***

"How foolish.", Varkhazel scoffed,as if sensing something.

"What is, your highness?", the traitor, a girl now turned into a monster with a pair of wings, licking all over Varkhazel’s body, stopped her chore and asked.

"Someone is plotting something funny, in My presence, at that."

"How dare they?", she asked, wearing her clothes again, though it didn’t fit her anymore, due to her shape.

Varkhazel stood up, with a sinister grin on his face.

"Go, and take care of them for me. This is your first task as my Radiata One."

"Understood!"

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Author’s Note :

Please comment down your thoughts.

Next - ACT 4 : THE LOST LAMB

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