Flag-Breaking Villainess: The Story of How Breaking the Romance Flags of the Otome Game's Protagonist Ended Up Creating New Flags Between the Reincarnated Villainess and the Heroine - Chapter 2.1

As we left the fountain plaza and began walking, Liel looked at me curiously and asked,

“Lady Lilia, aren’t you carrying any luggage?”

“My maid, Urs, is carrying it,” I replied calmly.

Liel glanced around, clearly searching for Urs, but she couldn’t spot her. Naturally, Urs had intentionally stayed just out of Liel’s line of sight, subtly matching her movements. It was one of her playful displays of her high physical stats.

Due to the adjustments likely caused by my knowledge of the original game, both Urs and I had developed abilities far beyond the norm as we trained. In the game, what would typically be called “strength” was instead labeled as “athletic ability,” perhaps to better suit the tone of an otome game.

The developers likely avoided the term “strength” to maintain the elegant aesthetic of the game or to justify why the protagonist’s character design didn’t change to look overly muscular, even at max stats.

Regardless, while there’s no visible status screen in this world to confirm exact numbers, Urs and I possessed physical capabilities that far exceeded ordinary people.

Satisfied with her teasing, Urs finally introduced herself briefly to Liel, and the three of us continued toward the academy.

When we reached the academy gates, we presented our admission permits to the guards and were allowed inside.

Two guides met us upon entry—one to show Liel and me to our student dorms, and the other to escort Urs to the servant quarters.

Before parting ways, Urs handed me my trunk, and Liel and I followed our guide into the dormitory.

“This is Lady Lilia’s room,” the guide announced, opening the door.

The first thing I noticed upon stepping inside was the grand chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The cream-colored wallpaper, adorned with elegant paintings, gave the room an air of sophistication. The floor was covered with a thick crimson carpet, and velvet curtains gently swayed at the windows, softening the sunlight streaming in.

A gilded three-panel vanity mirror stood prominently, and the study desk, crafted from fine wood, gleamed with a deep, polished luster.

The dining table, pristine white with intricately carved chairs around it, exuded refinement. The canopy bed, draped with flowing silk curtains, added a touch of regal elegance.

To top it all off, the room even had a small kitchen, likely intended for use by a personal maid or butler.

Every piece of furniture radiated luxury, making it clear this was a space designed for nobility. It was almost overly extravagant for a single occupant.

As I admired the room, the guide turned to Liel and said, “Now, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

The two of them left the room, and I quietly followed at a distance.

They eventually stopped in front of a small, dilapidated hut located outside the dormitory. When Liel opened the door, I caught snippets of their conversation before the guide left, leaving her standing alone at the entrance.

Approaching her, I couldn’t help but frown as I studied the building.

In the original game, the player could upgrade the protagonist’s dorm room by spending in-game currency. Starting as a rundown hut, the upgrades would gradually transform it into a luxurious residence with beautiful interiors.

Each upgrade also unlocked special events with the capture targets, such as them seeking refuge from other students, using the room as a quiet place to relax, or hosting secret study sessions before exams.

While these upgrades weren’t mandatory for the main storyline, fully upgrading the room rewarded the player with a special trophy.

When I reached Liel and peered inside the hut, I was shocked at how shabby it truly was, even for a starting level.

The windows were cracked, moss grew on the exterior, and even from the doorway, I could see the worn, filthy furniture inside.

One early event in the game involved the protagonist catching a cold from living in such conditions, which triggered a scene where a capture target would take care of her. Looking at this place now, it was no wonder she’d get sick.

“You’re joking, right? This is your room?” I asked incredulously.

“Ah, Lady Lilia… um… yes,” Liel admitted hesitantly, her voice filled with embarrassment.

Though it wasn’t her fault, she looked so uneasy that I immediately made up my mind.

“That’s it. I’ve decided. There’s no way I’m letting you stay in a place like this. You’ll stay in my room with me. We’ll share the space.”

By having Liel move into my room, I could effectively break all the room-related events from the original storyline.

But beyond that, even knowing the room could be improved later, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Liel in such a terrible environment.

“W-What!?”

Liel’s face turned red, and she stammered as she tried to process what I’d just said.

“You mean… you and I would… live together? In the same room?”

“Of course. What other meaning could there be?”

Realizing I was serious, Liel’s flustered expression softened slightly as she calmed down.

Still, she looked at me with uncertainty and asked, “But why? Why are you being so kind to me? Why go to so much trouble?”

“Because I want to be close to you. You’re my first precious friend here. Unless… you dislike the idea of being with me?”

“I don’t dislike it! I… I’d be honored to be closer to you, Lady Lilia,” she said, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush that made her look even more endearing.

“I’m glad to hear that. As roommates, let’s get along well from now on,” I said, extending my hand for a handshake.

Liel clasped my hand with both of hers and replied earnestly, “Yes, thank you! I’ll do my best to be a good roommate!”

After escorting Liel to my room, I retrieved the essentials from my trunk and made my way to the dormitory manager’s office.

When I asked the manager for permission for Liel and me to share a room, he frowned deeply.

“A noble and a commoner sharing the same room… that’s a bit…”

It was a complaint, but not an outright rejection.

The manager, a lower-ranked noble employed by the academy, couldn’t afford to directly oppose a duke’s daughter like me. The power dynamics between the students and the dormitory staff worked in my favor. His hesitant response was something I could handle.

“Managing the dormitory must be a difficult job, especially since nobles can be… rather strong-willed, don’t you think?” I asked, my tone casual yet sympathetic.

“Haha… well, you could say that,” he replied, carefully avoiding agreeing outright—it would come across as criticizing the nobles.

Sensing his hesitance, I leaned in slightly. “I worry about your health. Please, accept this as a token of my appreciation.”

I placed three small bottles filled with red liquid on his desk.

The manager’s eyes widened as he recognized the contents. His lips curled into a smile, and his rigid demeanor melted away.

“Well, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. If there’s no other room available, I suppose this arrangement can’t be helped. I’ll grant permission,” he said, nodding as if to convince himself.

Satisfied with his answer, I left the office.

The bottles I gave him contained elixirs—once considered mythical in this world.

In the original game, alchemy was one of the ways to earn money. Players could transform cheap items into more valuable ones and sell them. The first time a successful combination was discovered, the player would receive a recipe discovery bonus.

The elixir recipe was a late-game reward, introduced through a side event. While it didn’t affect the main storyline, it offered a substantial bonus and resale value, making it a popular tool for players during subsequent playthroughs if crafted early.

Using my knowledge of the game, I had alchemized the elixirs, but not for profit—my purpose was healing.

The Fortina family consisted of my father, mother, my older sister, and me, the second daughter.

My father, the quintessential nobleman, focused solely on my sister inheriting the family title. To him, I was nothing more than a backup heir in case of an accident or illness. He treated me with indifference, never as a true family member.

My sister, deeply involved with her fiancé, the second son of another noble family, barely acknowledged my existence. After she once told me, “I don’t want to associate with a mere backup in case I die,” I stopped trying to interact with her altogether.

Only my mother cared for me. On lonely nights when I couldn’t sleep, she would stay by my side, stroking my head until I drifted off.

Not long after regaining my past-life memories, my mother fell ill with an incurable disease. No medicine worked, and rest brought no improvement.

I realized then that the original Lilia’s twisted nature stemmed from losing the only person who ever cared for her. Left completely alone, she was consumed by the isolation.

Desperate to save her, I made the journey alone from the Fortina estate to the alchemy headquarters in the royal capital.

The local branch of the alchemy association didn’t have the materials needed to create an elixir. I knew my father wouldn’t help, and asking him to take me to the capital was futile.

So, I went alone. At the headquarters, I tirelessly performed alchemy, crafting item after item.

The staff were astonished as I uncovered recipes they hadn’t yet discovered. Though stunned, they prepared funds as rewards for my findings. I used the money to purchase rare materials that could only be found at the headquarters.

Using those materials, I crafted orichalcum, a legendary substance, and from it, the mythical elixir.

The headquarters erupted into chaos. No one had ever imagined an elixir could be crafted, let alone by a child. Amid the confusion over how to reward me for such a feat, I simply told them, “We’ll discuss it later,” and hurried home.

On my way to the station, I was nearly kidnapped by two thugs targeting noble children. Fortunately, Urs intervened, having followed me in hopes of claiming the reward money I had received. After that, I hired her as my personal maid.

The elixir cured my mother completely. Though years have passed, its rarity and demand remain high, making it one of the most expensive and sought-after items in the world.

As the recipe’s discoverer, I can craft and purchase elixirs freely, while also receiving a lifetime share of the profits. The bottles I gave to the dorm manager were insignificant to me, though they were likely priceless to him.

Back in my room, Liel and I spent the evening talking. She shared stories about her life at the orphanage, and we ate dinner together before heading to the dormitory’s grand bath.

It was her first time experiencing such luxury, and she became so excited that she stayed in too long and ended up getting lightheaded.

With Urs’s help, I dressed her in a pink nightgown I had brought along and tucked her into bed.

Despite the minor mishap, I reflected on the day with satisfaction. Everything had gone according to plan, and I successfully broke another event flag.

This was how I intended to navigate my life at the academy.

As I climbed into bed, I glanced at Liel. Her peaceful, sleeping face exuded a calmness that eased my mind. Watching her, I felt a wave of drowsiness wash over me.

“Now that I think about it… this is the first time I’ve ever slept beside someone,” I murmured to myself.

The soft sound of her breathing filled the room, spreading a warm sense of comfort in my chest. Slowly, my consciousness faded into sleep.

“Good night, Liel…”