Chereads / A Villains Return? / Chapter 7 - A Devil's Amusement

Chapter 7 - A Devil's Amusement

Aldrich surveyed the chaos from the academy's highest tower, a sardonic smile curving his lips. Below, nobles and commoners buzzed with excitement for the festival's main event—Marcus's demonstration.

"How tiresome," he murmured, his golden eyes half-lidded with boredom. "They all think I'm some champion of equality, a hero bridging the noble-commoner divide." A soft laugh escaped him. "As if I care about something so dreadfully righteous."

The truth was far simpler: he was bored. Watching these self-important nobles scramble, witnessing their precious systems crack—this was merely entertainment for a soul too old and too twisted for this young body.

His thoughts drifted to Marcus, the unwitting catalyst. The boy genuinely believed in their work, dreamed of a world where commoners stood equal to nobles. It was almost endearing, in a naive sort of way.

"Let them have their revolution," Aldrich mused. "Let them dismantle the walls between classes. In the end, they'll just build new ones. Humans always do."

A knock at the tower door interrupted his musings.

"Enter," he called, not bothering to turn.

The Ice Queen of the Blackwood Duchy swept in, her entrance dropping the temperature dramatically. Aria's grandmother was a vision of winter—hair white as fresh snow, eyes like frozen lakes. Unlike the flustered nobles below, she moved with the calm certainty of a glacier.

"God, not another one trying to psychoanalyze me," Aldrich muttered, rolling his eyes. "Let me guess: you have some profound insight into my 'condition'?"

"You're exactly what I expected," she replied, her voice carrying centuries of authority. "Someone who simply doesn't give a damn."

Aldrich's lips curved into genuine amusement. "Well, that's refreshingly honest. Better than Sophia's tiresome theories about possession or my dear sisters' desperate belief that the 'real' me is still in here somewhere."

"There are old stories," she began, "of souls slipping through the cracks between worlds. Souls too... complex for the simple heaven-or-hell dichotomy." Her eyes scrutinized him. "Souls that find new vessels, bringing ancient knowledge with them."

Below, the festival was commencing. Marcus stood on the main stage, surrounded by intricate magical circles. The nobles watched from their elevated seats, while commoners pressed against the barriers, hungry for change.

"How fascinating," Aldrich drawled. "And here I thought I was just a sociopath with good timing."

"You're using them all," she observed. "The commoners' hope, the nobles' fear, even my granddaughter's confused feelings—they're all just toys to you."

He turned to face her fully. "I don't care about equality, justice, or any of those pretty ideals. It simply amuses me to watch carefully constructed worlds crumble."

"And if that leads to the end of the world?"

"Then so be it."

The Ice Queen's laugh was unexpectedly warm. "Perfect. The noble families have grown fat and complacent. The fact that you're dismantling everything out of sheer boredom rather than some misguided crusade makes you far more effective."

"Please," Aldrich's voice dripped with sarcasm, "don't tell me you'll start spouting nonsense about being an agent of necessary change. I get enough of that from the peasants who think I'm their revolutionary hero."

Below, Marcus began his demonstration. Common magic, enhanced by Aldrich's theories, swirled around him in impossible patterns. The crowd gasped as he replicated noble abilities with increasing complexity.

Sophia stood from her seat, holy symbols blazing. "This is blasphemy!" she declared, though her voice trembled with doubt.

Lucas, watching from the shadows, merely smiled. He'd already adapted his lightning techniques using Aldrich's methods, revealing a sharp mind beneath his playboy facade.

Aria's ice responded to her agitation, crystalline patterns mimicking Marcus's display. She caught Aldrich's eye across the distance, and something passed between them—a recognition of power acknowledging power, regardless of its source.

As Aldrich strode into the arena, Aria's icy glare followed him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched him take his place, his posture deceptively casual for the seriousness of the event.

"Do you really think you're untouchable, Vale?" she hissed, as much to reassure herself as to taunt him.

Aldrich's eyes flicked her way, his smile a mere shadow of amusement. "I know I am." He shrugged, examining his nails. "You, on the other hand, look like you're barely holding it together."

Aria bristled, her frost magic flaring involuntarily—a reaction Aldrich noted with disdain. She had always been so predictable, so desperately eager to prove herself. If she insisted on being his opponent, he'd relish watching her tear herself apart in the process.

Rosalind and Evelyn observed with identical expressions of fascination and fear, their devotion to their stepbrother warring with their noble pride.

"Your little experiment is working better than you planned," the Ice Queen noted. "They're all changing, evolving—even if that wasn't your goal."

Aldrich's smile sharpened. "The best chaos is often unplanned. Though I must admit, watching them struggle with their precious beliefs has been... entertaining."

A commotion erupted below as Marcus showcased his crowning achievement—a perfect replication of the Vale family's legendary golden-flame technique. The noble section exploded in outrage while the commoners cheered.

"And now?" the Ice Queen asked. "Once you've burned their world to ash, what will amuse you next?"

Aldrich's eyes gleamed with dark promise. "Why, watching them try to rebuild, of course. Humans are so creative when they're desperate."

He turned back to the window, observing his puppets dance. Marcus, intoxicated by power and possibility. Sophia, her faith cracking like thin ice. Lucas, finally revealing his brilliance. Aria, battling her own nature. His step-sisters, loving what they should hate.

All of them believing they understood him, thinking they could save him, stop him, or join him. None realizing they were merely characters in a play he directed out of sheer boredom.

"Shall we go down?" he asked the Ice Queen. "The second act is about to begin, and I've choreographed some rather interesting disasters for everyone