The royal guest suite was suffocating. Han-eol stared at the silk canopy of his bed, the silence of the palace pressing against his eardrums. He missed the hum of his PC fan. He missed the mindless scrolling of Webtok. Most of all, he missed being a nobody.
'This is a drag. If I stay in this room playing the part of the sleeping savior, the King is going to keep me on a leash. I need a reason to leave the city, and a reason for them to fear the name Varkas.'
He sat up, his movements methodical. He didn't have a flashy plan, just a necessity. He needed the world to see the Villain so they wouldn't look too closely at the Hero.
'System. Switch to Overlord form. Minimize the light transition.'
The white hair bled back into a deep, abyssal black. The silver plate armor shifted, the metal turning heavy and jagged, radiating a cold, oppressive weight. He felt the Overlord's passive aura begin to eat at the air around him. He quickly suppressed it, focusing the mana inward.
He didn't bother with the door; the hallways were crawling with royal guards. Instead, he forced the latch on the window, slid out onto the stone ledge, and dropped into the shadows of the courtyard.
[Skill Active: Shadow Meld]
He moved through the capital like a Phantom in the dark, eventually reaching the outer wall. With his stats, the massive stone barrier was barely a hurdle. He crested the top and vanished into the treeline, heading toward the small settlement of Oakhaven
When he reached the village, he didn't feel the hesitation a normal person should. The 'Varkas' character sheet seemed to have numbed his nerves. He looked at the guards patrolling the wooden palisade—men with families, men who were just doing their jobs.
'If I just burn a building, Seraphina will call it a prank. A villain needs a body count to be taken seriously.'
He stepped into the light of a torch, his obsidian armor reflecting the flame. The guard didn't even have time to scream. Han-eol blurred forward, his gauntleted hand crushing the man's throat before he could draw a breath.
'Two.'
He moved to the next one, driven by a cold, calculating efficiency. He needed this to be a massacre. If it wasn't brutal, it wasn't Varkas. He kicked the gate open, the heavy wood splintering under his strength.
"The Overlord!" someone shrieked.
He raised his hand, and a torrent of violet-black fire erupted from his palm, turning the nearest guardhouse into a funeral pyre. He walked through the screaming village, systematically cutting down anyone who drew a weapon. Each kill added a notification to his peripheral vision, but he swiped them away.
'Don't think about it. It's just data. If I don't do this, they'll catch me, and then I'm the one on the chopping block.'
He left the village in a state of controlled chaos half the buildings leveled, the garrison decimated, and enough survivors left to tell the tale of the black-armored monster who did it. He made sure to leave a footprint of pure, corrupted mana in the center of the square a calling card that only a Saintess could read.
He slipped away before the reinforcements from the capital could arrive.
By the time the warning bells were ringing back at the palace, Han-eol was back in his room, the silver armor of 'Elian' clicked into place, and his white hair perfectly groomed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing hard, his hands still feeling the ghost of the impact from the kills.
A heavy thud hit his door.
"Elian! Open up!" Seraphina shouted.
He opened the door, looking appropriately startled. Seraphina stood there, her face pale, her eyes darting to his hands, then his face.
"Oakhaven is gone," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear. "He was there. Varkas. He killed everyone in the garrison. The mana... it's still hanging over the valley. It's him."
Han-eol looked past her, his expression hardening into a mask of righteous fury. "He's moving faster than we thought. We should have been there."
'I was there. I'm the reason you're crying. This sucks.'
Seraphina gripped her mace so hard her knuckles turned white. "We leave at dawn. No more banquets. I want that monster's head."
"You'll have it," Han-eol said, his voice deep and reassuring.
Inside, his mind was already calculating the next move. He had to be the one to 'find' the trail, lead them into an ambush, and then 'defeat' his own summons. It was a hell of a lot of work just to stay alive.
'I really wish I had my phone right now. I need a distraction from my own head.'