They say a man sees his life flash before his eyes when he dies.
I didn't.
I saw fire.
Searing, holy fire—the kind summoned by high priests in golden robes, meant to purge evil. Too bad they didn't care that I wasn't the one they were supposed to burn. I screamed, not from the pain, but from the betrayal. My own squad. My brothers-in-arms. They watched me burn, eyes empty, mouths sealed.
I wasn't even allowed a final word.
Only one thought echoed in my skull before the flames took me.
"Let me live a quiet life next time. No swords. No demons. No lies."
And then—
Silence.
No pain. No heat. Just darkness.
Until I woke up gasping, clawing at the air, covered in sweat instead of blood. A ceiling greeted me. Painted. Smooth. Luxurious.
Not hell. Not heaven either.
A room.
"What the…?" I sat up, the sheets slipping off my body.
The moment I did, memories not my own came crashing into me like tidal waves. A noble's son. Eighteen. Weak, sickly. No magical affinity. No sword skills. Just a side character—unimportant, forgettable.
And then I remembered this world.
It wasn't mine. It was from a book.
"Whispers of Fate." A trashy fantasy novel I barely skimmed between missions. A world filled with magic, noble houses, cursed bloodlines, and a heroine meant to save it all.
And a villainess.
I remembered her too—Virelya Elaren. The girl fated to destroy the world. The one everyone feared. The one everyone hated. A heart of ice. A name whispered like a curse.
She was the final boss. The heart of chaos.
And I?
I was a background character who died in Chapter Four.
"Shit," I muttered, staring at my shaking hands. They weren't mine. Slender. Pale. Soft.
I stumbled to the mirror and nearly recoiled.
Pretty. Too pretty. Dark curls. Sharp jaw. Unnaturally symmetrical features. I looked like someone from a romance novel.
Because I was.
This couldn't be real.
I paced the room, heart thudding too loud. The memories kept pouring in—my new name: Caelum Vire. Son of a declining noble house. Zero reputation. Barely mentioned in the book except for one thing: he accidentally witnessed the villainess using forbidden magic and died before he could warn anyone.
"Chapter Four," I whispered. "That's three weeks from now."
Three weeks before I die again.
Unless… I don't follow the story.
Stay out of sight. Don't meet the villainess. Don't be a hero. Don't be anything.
I could do that. I would do that.
After two decades of killing monsters and dying for kings, I finally had a second chance. A useless body, a cursed world, but peace—if I could keep my head down.
And yet… something inside me twisted.
That final scene in the book—Virelya, the villainess, standing alone as the world crumbled around her. Eyes wild. Hair drenched in blood. Power radiating from her in waves. Everyone called her a monster. But she looked… broken.
What if they were wrong?
No. I couldn't afford to care.
I slammed my hand against the wall. "Forget her. Forget the plot. Just survive."
A knock snapped me out of my thoughts. The door creaked open.
"Master Caelum?" a young maid peeked in. "The head steward requests your presence. You've recovered, yes?"
Right. Caelum had collapsed a few days ago from mana sickness. They must think I'm still him.
I forced a nod. "Yes. Tell him I'll be down shortly."
She bowed and vanished.
I exhaled slowly.
This was real. All of it. The air smelled too rich. The light too warm. The magic in the air hummed faintly like a distant current.
I wasn't on Earth anymore.
And I wasn't a demon slayer.
I was a nobody, in a world written for someone else. But for once, I wasn't going to die for someone's story. Not again.
I cleaned up, dressed, and stepped out into the hallway. Ornate. Polished. Gold-trimmed walls and velvet carpets. The kind of luxury I never had back home.
As I walked, servants avoided my eyes. I heard whispers behind closed doors.
"Still useless."
"Should've died like his mother."
"Waste of a title."
So the original Caelum was disliked. Good. That meant people wouldn't expect much from me.
I reached the steward's office. An old man with sharp eyes and a thinner mouth stood behind a desk.
"You're late," he said flatly.
"I almost died last week. Forgive me if I overslept."
He blinked. I could tell that kind of sarcasm wasn't common from Caelum.
"…Your father has requested your presence at the southern estate."
"My father?" I echoed. "Why?"
"Because Lady Virelya will be passing through the region in two days. And your father… wishes to impress the royal court with hospitality."
My blood turned cold.
Virelya?
No. No, no, no.
I wasn't supposed to meet her. That's how Caelum dies.
The steward raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"
I plastered on a smile. "Not at all."
Inside, my heart was racing.
She was coming.
The girl cursed by fate. The girl I was supposed to avoid at all costs.
And now she was walking right into my life.