The Villain Professor's Second Chance-Chapter 464: The Butler’s Concern and Reminder

The cool evening air greeted me as I stepped out of the palace, its crispness carrying a faint bite that cut through the lingering tension of the dining hall. The arcane carriage stood ready at the base of the grand staircase, its runes glowing faintly, illuminating the surrounding darkness with a soft, rhythmic pulse. Its craftsmanship was impeccable, a blend of arcane innovation and regal design—a moving fortress disguised as luxury.

Alfred was there, of course. Ever punctual, ever efficient. He stood by the carriage, his posture flawless, his expression calm yet vigilant. The faintest incline of his head acknowledged my presence. "The items you requested have been prepared, my lord," he said, his voice carrying the usual blend of deference and professionalism.

I descended the steps, each step measured and deliberate. As I reached the carriage, I allowed my gaze to flicker toward the interior, where neatly arranged packages and items awaited inspection. Alfred’s attention to detail was apparent even in the arrangement of these objects.

"I see you’ve already gathered everything just as I asked," I remarked, stepping into the carriage. The interior was as pristine as I expected, its enchantments humming faintly, casting a soft glow that lent an almost ethereal quality to the space. The seats, upholstered in a dark fabric that seemed to absorb the ambient light, beckoned with a subtle allure of both comfort and purpose. Overhead, faint lines of arcane script shimmered, their glow ebbing and flowing like a steady heartbeat. The air inside was cool, faintly perfumed with the scent of aged leather and the metallic tang of magic. The layout was meticulously organized, every detail speaking to the dual priorities of efficiency and elegance—a perfect reflection of my preferences, honed by years of exacting standards.

Read exclusive adventures at novelbuddy

Alfred nodded, his expression unchanged. "It is my duty to accomplish all your directions, my lord."

Settling into the seat, I allowed myself a brief moment of silence. The world outside the carriage felt distant, its chaos muted by the enchanted walls. I glanced at the neatly stacked items: a collection of objects that held significance far beyond their appearance.

"Let’s proceed," I said, and the carriage began to move, its arcane mechanisms gliding smoothly over the cobblestone streets.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

The first item to catch my attention was the Holy Scripture of Sloth. Its dark leather binding seemed almost alive, pulsating faintly with a malevolent aura that seemed to echo the whispers of forbidden knowledge. The runes etched into its surface glimmered with an unholy light, shifting and contorting in patterns that defied logic, as though testing the resolve of anyone foolish enough to open it. As I turned the cover, the pages themselves seemed to breathe, the text writhing in protest against being read. My fingers traced the glyphs cautiously, each symbol imbued with corrupted mana that stung my fingertips like a warning, daring me to probe further into its sinister depths. The faint hum of the scripture was both hypnotic and repellent, a paradox that only heightened its dangerous allure.

"If this has changed, then their plans have shifted as well," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the hum of the carriage.

The scripture’s connection to the Devil Coffin faction was undeniable. Its malevolence mirrored the twisted objectives they pursued, objectives that had already deviated alarmingly from the original trajectories I remembered. If their focus had truly shifted, the consequences could be catastrophic.

Beside the scripture lay a set of high-grade magic cores, their crystalline structures gleaming with captured energy. These would be invaluable—not just as a source of power but as components for potential countermeasures. Each core contained unique elemental signatures, and I briefly considered their potential applications.

Among the artifacts was a peculiar orb, its surface etched with patterns reminiscent of demonic sigils. I held it up to the faint light of the carriage’s interior, watching as the sigils shifted like reflections on water. It was a fragment of something larger, its origin tied to the demonic uprisings I had been monitoring. Its presence here was both a clue and a warning.

As I examined the items, my thoughts drifted to the interconnected threats looming on the horizon. The Devil Coffin, the orc invasion, the demons—each faction operated independently, their objectives disparate yet equally destructive. Containing them would require precision, strategy, and the ability to predict their movements before they converged into something unmanageable.

The carriage’s movement was seamless, the runes along its frame ensuring a smooth journey. Alfred, seated across from me, remained silent but attentive. His presence was a constant, a steadying force in a world that often veered toward chaos.

"Is this all needed, my lord?" Alfred’s voice broke the silence, his tone steady but tinged with something that might have been concern.

I glanced at him, noting the faint shadows under his eyes. He was a man who carried the weight of my decisions with an unwavering sense of duty. "What about your—" he began, then stopped himself, his gaze dropping for a moment. "Forgive me. I’ve overstepped."

I waved off his apology, leaning back against the seat. "It’s fine," I said, my tone neutral.

It is unneeded for me to ask what he wanted to ask.

’What about your reputation?’

Alfred’s concern was not unfounded. He had seen more than most, his loyalty extending beyond mere service into a realm of unwavering dedication. His understanding of my methods, my decisions, and the consequences they carried was unmatched, shaped by years of silent observation and careful intervention. It was likely that he had pieced together much of what had transpired—including the incident with Sharon.

He had been there, after all, shadowing our journey from the ground on the legendary Drakhan Stallion, a beast of remarkable endurance and strength, capable of matching the carriage’s enchanted flight. From the vantage point of the land route, he had witnessed the ambush in all its calculated malice—the chaos erupting like a storm, the swift retaliation that followed, and the grim aftermath that left no room for ambiguity.

The images of that day, etched into his memory, weighed heavily on him, as did the unspoken understanding of the choices I had made and the scars they had left in their wake.

Alfred shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze steady. "Is there any meaning to this, my lord?" he asked quietly. "What about—"

I cut him off with a look, and he immediately lowered his head.

"My apologies, my lord," he said again, his voice low.

"There’s meaning to everything, Alfred" I replied after a moment.

"Even if it’s not immediately apparent."

The carriage’s path shifted slightly as it moved toward the Drakhan Earldom, the distant lights of Aurelion beginning to appear on the horizon. Alfred’s expression remained unreadable, but his worry lingered like a shadow.

"I see... Then there is another thing that I need to remind you, my lord,"

"Lady Tiara and Lady Clara have already arrived at the mansion," Alfred said, his tone softening slightly. "They are waiting for you, my lord."

Tiara... And Clara...

I didn’t reply immediately, my gaze drifting to the passing scenery. Aurelion’s transformation was visible even from here. The once-stagnant city had become a hub of activity, its streets bustling with life, its infrastructure improved under my guidance. It was a testament to what could be achieved with precise planning and execution.

Then I remember about the orphanage I have set up in the kingdom’s capital.

"How is the progress of the orphanage?" I asked, my voice breaking the silence.

Alfred’s expression brightened subtly, pride flickering in his eyes. "The orphanage proceeds smoothly, my lord. Lady Elara and Lady Maris have taken to freelancing as part-time teachers. Lady Elara, in particular, seems to have found a passion for teaching."

I allowed myself the faintest hint of a smile. "Does this news please you, my lord?" Alfred asked, his tone careful.

I didn’t answer, turning my attention back to the items beside me. My silence was answer enough.

The orphanage was a cornerstone of my strategy, a calculated endeavor to secure the future while addressing the present. Its purpose extended far beyond simple charity; it was a nexus of untapped potential and covert intelligence. The children who found refuge within its walls were more than just beneficiaries of kindness—they were seeds of possibility, each one carefully nurtured to become indispensable assets in the intricate web I wove. Their skills, once honed, would serve purposes far greater than they could imagine, their futures aligned with a vision they were yet to comprehend. It was a long-term investment, demanding not only patience but an unwavering commitment to detail, as every step taken today would shape the opportunities of tomorrow.

"Lady Tiara and Lady Clara," Alfred repeated, his tone slightly more insistent. "They are waiting for you."

I remained silent, the weight of his words settling over me. My sisters—estranged, wary, and undoubtedly filled with questions. Their presence at the mansion was both an opportunity and a complication.

"They seem well," Alfred continued. "Though... eager for your arrival. It would mean much to them if you were to visit."

I exhaled slowly, my gaze shifting to my hands. The list of enemies I had accrued continued to grow. Sophie von Icevern’s hatred burned brightly, her vendetta a constant reminder of the consequences of my actions. The Devil Coffin faction remained a looming threat, their altered objectives an enigma that demanded unraveling. And then there were the orcs and demons, each presenting their own challenges, their presence a harbinger of the chaos to come.

The risks were undeniable. Those close to me would inevitably be caught in the crossfire, their safety compromised by their proximity to my plans. Yet avoiding these connections was not an option. Control required proximity, and proximity carried its own dangers.

After a long pause, I sighed deeply. "Fine. I’ll meet them."

Alfred’s relief was evident, though he hid it well.

"A wise decision, my lord,"