When exactly had it dawned on him that he had been transported into the very novel he’d casually read now and then? If memory served, it had been before he entered the military academy—when he was still just a boy.
The realization struck him suddenly, as such moments often do. This world was the setting of The Flower of the Battlefield, the only work he’d ever taken the time to read. And his new identity? None other than Luke, the so-called villain of the story—a rival who relentlessly clashed with the protagonist over their ultimate goal, committing countless villainous acts along the way.
Why did it have to be the villain? Like every transmigrator, he found himself pondering the same frustrating question. But then he recalled his own unusual perspective on villains. Unlike others who mindlessly derided such characters, he had always viewed villains as essential figures, guiding the hero's journey. Perhaps, he mused, this was fate’s way of balancing the scales. A celestial punishment, delivered with poetic irony.
"Hey."
Inside the quiet barracks, Luke was resting when Mile barged in without so much as a knock. Luke sighed, running his hands over his face before sitting up on the bed.
"At least pretend to knock next time."
"Since when do we knock in the barracks?"
Mile’s derisive expression was practically carved into his face as he looked down at Luke. Those eyes, brimming with hostility and disdain—yes, they were the kind of gaze villains like him were destined to receive.
“Thanks to your solo escapade, the surprise attack was a success, or so the reports say. Memburn’s forces are withdrawing from the maritime zone. For now, they’ll likely focus on replenishing their manpower and supplies. Or perhaps they’ll shift their stance toward ending the war.”
“You came all this way just to tell me that?”
“I’m saying you should get ready. We’re leaving most of the troops here and heading back to headquarters. But hey, since you do whatever you please, feel free to stay behind if you want.”
Mile’s sharp glare lingered a moment longer before he spun on his heel and left the tent with a huff. Luke, unimpressed, sent a mocking gesture at his retreating back. He then flopped back onto the cot with a heavy sigh.
As much as he wanted to heed Mile’s suggestion and steal a few more moments of rest, he knew he couldn’t. Even villains had standards to uphold. With a groan, Luke hauled his aching body off the bed and began preparing to leave.
***
"Villains are just meant to be evil," someone once said. But who exactly decided that? Perhaps villains are characters who need to possess even greater qualities than the protagonist.
Take, for instance, the ability to stand tall and exude confidence, even when they know their actions won’t be welcomed.
“Yes, it seems Captain Luke successfully ambushed and defeated the enemy forces stationed in Memburn.”
“Yes, sir.”
Despite knowing his actions weren’t celebrated, Luke maintained an air of unwavering confidence. From behind him, he could hear muffled snickers from other unit captains like Mile.
“Captain Luke.”
“Yes.”
The Supreme Commander of the army, Veil Winiam, the man with the greatest authority in the military, rose from his seat and patted Luke on the shoulder.
“Well done. Thanks to you, we managed to defeat the enemy without sustaining any losses. However, acting without reporting or coordinating with the chain of command was unacceptable.”
“…I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Veil nodded, offering no further reprimand. Known for his mild and temperate nature, Veil was considered one of the most compassionate commanders in history. Though some criticized his demeanor as unsuitable for military leadership, those who served under him respected him deeply.
“This should keep Memburn from making any rash moves for a while. We’ll monitor their next steps, but unless something unusual happens, they’ll likely agree to the peace treaty proposed by the Empire. For now, maintain a reduced presence in the eastern region and let the detached forces, including the Third Unit, take some well-deserved rest.”
Luke saluted sharply and exited the commander’s office. On his way out, he exchanged brief, icy glances with Mile, who was already busy heading elsewhere. Luke began walking back toward his quarters.
“So, Captain Luke acted on his own again?”
As he strolled, voices drifted through an open window. He glanced toward the source and spotted three soldiers chatting quietly during their break.
“Yeah, apparently, he charged into Memburn’s ambush site all by himself.”
“What happened then?”
“Looks like the ambush was successful. But honestly, so what? Word is he told the detached troops to just sit back and set up barriers while he handled everything solo.”
Luke leaned casually against the wall, listening closely to their conversation.
“What does that tell you? He wanted all the credit for himself. I saw him heading to the commander’s office earlier.”
If that was how things appeared on the surface, then he had succeeded. In reality, he’d gone alone to prevent innocent soldiers from getting hurt during the ambush. But appearances could be deceptive.
Another trait of a villain: the ability to remain unbothered by the whispers of others. A normal character or protagonist might brood over such talk, letting it hurt their feelings.
“You’ve got me figured out.”
Luke flung open the window, grinning broadly at the startled soldiers.
“C-Captain Luke…!”
The men jumped to their feet, saluting hastily.
“Instead of gossiping about your superior, how about sharpening your skills? You’re too weak to even be useful in an ambush.”
“…Apologies, sir.”
He could see their brows furrowing in frustration.
“If you understand, go spar twenty rounds as punishment for slandering your captain.”
With stiff bows, the soldiers scurried off, their shoulders slumped.
“Get stronger. It’s the only way you won’t die on the battlefield.”
Luke murmured to himself as he watched them disappear down the hall.
“Captain Luke.”
A familiar voice called out from the distance. Turning, Luke saw Theo approaching—the protagonist of this story and the Empire’s future Supreme Commander.
“You’ve just returned from seeing the commander?”
“What about it?”
“I’m curious to know what he had to say.”
Theo stopped in front of Luke, his sharp gaze noting the bandage on Luke’s forehead.
“If you were hoping for me to get thoroughly reprimanded, you’ll be disappointed. The commander actually praised my accomplishments. You might need to work a little harder to keep up, Captain Theo.”
Luke grinned slyly, fully aware his words were meant to provoke. After all, Theo was his goal—his mark. Helping the protagonist achieve greatness was the ultimate mission.
Being reincarnated as the villain wasn’t the only punishment. The greater issue was that this novel was incomplete. The Flower of the Battlefield, a story chronicling Theo’s struggles, growth, and eventual rise to the pinnacle of the military, had been abandoned mid-publication. The author had lost interest, leaving Theo’s tale unresolved.
“Duly noted.”
That’s right, Theo. Keep striving. Become Supreme Commander as quickly as possible, Luke thought to himself.
When he first realized he’d been thrust into this world, Luke had considered abandoning everything, going off on a carefree journey, and leaving the plot behind. But then it struck him—why not ensure the story reached its proper conclusion before he left? After all, he wasn’t just any character. He was a pivotal villain. Surely, there had to be a reason for his role.
“Well then, I’ll be off.”
Luke strode past Theo and continued down the hall, his mind fixed on his mission to craft a happy ending for the protagonist.
Theo stood still, watching Luke’s retreating figure.
“…Looks like your treatment went well.”
After murmuring to himself, Theo finally turned and walked away.