The World's Strongest and Most Evil Noble Strives Humbly and Diligently ~ Using Knowledge of the Original Story and Unique Magic to Avoid a Destruction End ~ - Chapter 1: Villain Reincarnation
Chapter 1: Villain Reincarnation
“—Ah!”
While eating lunch, I suddenly remembered.
This is a fantasy world inside a game.
And I’m not the ‘protagonist,’ but the ‘villainous noble,’ Hollow von Heisenberg.
That outrageous fact sank into my head surprisingly smoothly.
“…This is bad.”
If my knowledge of the original story is correct, this villainous noble, Hollow—
My thoughts were interrupted when the maid serving me bowed deeply with force.
“I-I’m so sorry…! I’ll remake the food to suit Hollow-sama’s taste right away, so please forgive me…!”
Her face clouded with despair as she bowed repeatedly.
“No, wait, that ‘this is bad’ wasn’t about that… Sistie-san’s cooking is very delicious.”
The maid’s name slipped out naturally.
“M-My name…!? And polite speech…!?”
Sistie-san’s eyes widened in shock, stepping back with an expression of disbelief.
(…Oh no, that might’ve been a careless remark…)
Remembering a maid’s name.
Using polite speech with a maid.
Both are actions the original Hollow would never do.
“I need to call the master…!”
Sistie-san, her face pale, tried to rush out of the room.
“W-Wait, calm down! I’m perfectly normal—”
“B-‘I’!?”
Oh, right… Hollow’s first-person pronoun was ‘ore.’
“Ahem, I mean, ore is perfectly normal. There’s nothing to report to Father… got it?”
“Y-Yes, understood.”
She said this and bowed lightly.
For now, I calmed the situation and resumed my interrupted meal.
I wasn’t in the mood to eat, but leaving the food untouched and walking out might raise more unnecessary suspicions.
And above all, it would waste this carefully prepared meal.
“By the way, Sistie, what’s the date today?”
“Um, it’s March 5, Holy Calendar 1009.”
“I see.”
The original Hollow was born in Holy Calendar 1000.
That means this body is 9 years old now.
As far as I know, the earliest Hollow dies is at 11.
I still have two years left.
(For now, let’s calm down and organize the current situation.)
After finishing lunch, I stood up and looked at Sistie-san.
“I need to think about some things. Don’t let anyone into my room.”
“Is something wrong…!?”
“No problem. Just do your usual work.”
“U-Understood.”
She bowed politely without objection, but her face showed she wasn’t fully convinced.
She probably couldn’t shake her distrust.
(First-person is ‘ore,’ and no polite speech with subordinates… It’s tough, but I need to stick to it.)
Leaving the dining room, I headed to my room.
The layout of the Heisenberg estate was exactly like in the game.
Thanks to that, I returned to my room without getting lost.
I locked the door securely and collapsed onto the bed.
“…Seriously, is this for real…?”
This world is the ultra-multi-ending RPG ‘Ronzorkia’.
Made by a Japanese megacorporation and writer’s union, it’s a global mega-hit game.
As its slogan says, “Everyone’s the protagonist! No mob characters!” every character has their own route, with countless endings.
“Did I die in the real world? Or did my soul transfer here while I’m still alive?”
Well, whatever.
I have no attachments to the real world.
Having lost my parents young and been alone, ‘Ronzorkia’ was my real world.
“Am I happy?” If asked, the answer is obviously “Yes.”
The excitement surging from deep within is overwhelming; I might start dancing if I let my guard down.
But let me say this.
“Why, of all things, did it have to be Hollow!?”
Hollow von Heisenberg.
A true genius blessed with talent in swordsmanship, magic, and academics.
But his personality is lazy and arrogant.
Drunk on his own talent, neglecting effort, he’s defeated by the protagonist… and that’s not all.
Hollow dies in every route, a doomed ‘walking death flag’ with a guaranteed bad end.
And I reincarnated as this villainous noble.
“If this goes on, I’ll be doomed… Killed by the predetermined fate of the ‘scenario’…”
Unless I act quickly, I’ll meet a bad end in no time.
“…Calm down, let’s think coolly.”
Sitting up, I took a deep breath.
I accepted the harsh reality of reincarnating as Hollow.
“The top priority is—to survive, no matter what.”
The original Hollow was an existence despised by the world.
Countless trials will likely come to kill me.
(But… I have my ‘knowledge of the original story’!)
I love ‘Ronzorkia’ and poured my entire youth into it.
I haven’t cleared every character’s route, but…
I’ve completed most of the major ones.
So, I know how Hollow dies.
(With my knowledge, I’ll break the death flags, avoid the tons of bad ends, and enjoy the beautiful world of ‘Ronzorkia’!)
To do that, I need to—
“—Work humbly and diligently to become strong!”
Like many RPGs, ‘Ronzorkia’ is a fantasy world of swords and magic.
To survive here, I need overwhelming individual strength, unmatched martial prowess.
In that sense, the original Hollow has the ‘qualities of the strongest,’ making him a perfect character in a way.
Though… his innate laziness and arrogance lead to his death before his talents can bloom.
To avoid his mistakes, I must stay humble and diligent.
“For now—status.”
Before starting training, I wanted to check my ‘initial stats.’
But no matter how long I waited, no status window appeared.
“Guess that means—skills.”
Naturally, no skill window appeared either.
“…I see, so that’s how it is.”
No status or skill windows means…
‘Ronzorkia’’s character growth system—① defeat enemies to gain experience → ② level up to increase stats and gain skill points → ③ assign skill points to learn new techniques or magic—doesn’t apply here.
So, how do I get stronger?
The first thing that comes to mind is increasing ‘proficiency’ or ‘mastery,’ maybe?
I’ll figure out the details during training…
“The question is which path to take.”
‘Ronzorkia’ has over 100 classes: knight, thief, monk, ranger, necromancer, and more.
I could become a tamer to control magical beasts, a merchant to run a company, or an explorer to venture into uncharted lands—lots of fun routes.
But right now, I need simple strength.
“In that case… swordsman and mage.”
Master the beginner classes of swordsman and mage, aiming for the advanced class of magic swordsman.
No ‘playing around.’
I’ll build a serious setup focused solely on getting stronger.
“Sword or magic, which should I start with…?”
I plan to master both eventually, but training them simultaneously from the start is inefficient.
It’s better to focus on one path, build a solid foundation, then tackle the other.
(I think the ‘baptism ceremony’ happens at 10, so I have a little over a year.)
In that case, I should start with the sword.
Luckily, the Heisenberg household has Orvin Dunkelt, a master swordsman and head butler.
Orvin-san’s swordsmanship skills are top-tier in the game.
If I train under him, I can learn the sword with maximum efficiency.
(It’s 1 p.m. now… He’s probably tending to the trees in the garden, right?)
I was about to head to Orvin-san when I caught sight of a large mirror.
“…Wow, it really is Hollow von Heisenberg.”
Hollow von Heisenberg, age 9.
Medium-length red hair, with the back tied loosely with a hair tie.
About 135 cm tall, with a lean, toned build.
Crimson gem-like eyes, a well-shaped nose, and a sharp, attractive mouth. He wears a navy blue jacket and simple black pants.
(The original Hollow’s face is really good-looking…)
Though his personality is trash.
I adjusted my hair, smoothed out my clothes, and stepped outside.
Looking around, I walked through the vast garden and soon spotted Orvin-san pruning trees.
(Wow, it’s the real thing…)
Orvin Dunkelt, 63 years old.
185 cm tall, with neat, short white hair.
A chiseled face, large stern eyes, and a well-groomed white beard. His thick muscles were evident even through his tailcoat.
“Orvin-sa… Ahem, Orvin, got a moment?”
I swallowed the honorific that almost slipped out.
Calling someone my grandfather’s age by name felt wrong, but I had to get used to it.
“Young master, what’s the matter?”
“I have a request. Teach me the sword.”
“What!?”
“What’s wrong?”
“No… Hollow-sama making a request instead of an order…!”
Oh, right, Hollow never asked for things.
He always gave orders arrogantly from above.
“Ahem… Yeah, my bad.”
“Ngh!?”
“What now?”
“Hollow-sama admitting fault…!”
“…”
I was speechless.
I didn’t realize it was this bad…
But it made sense.
Yeah, he was that kind of awful guy.
(For now… I’ll act like the lazy, arrogant Hollow for a while.)
If I suddenly act too nice, people will get suspicious.
Just earlier, I made Sistie-san distrust me.
No honorifics or polite speech with subordinates.
When asking for something, use commands.
I’ll stick to this for now and gradually soften my attitude.
“Orvin, teach me the sword.”
“Of course, but… what brought this on?”
“Just a whim.”
“I see.”
My Hollow-like response convinced Orvin immediately.
We moved to the training area and picked up dulled practice swords.
“I’d like to start with basics… but knowing the impatient Hollow-sama, I assume you want a real fight.”
“Huh? Uh, yeah… obviously.”
I wanted to ask for basic training, but the mood didn’t allow it.
We stood three meters apart, swords ready.
“Here I come.”
“Yeah, bring it.”
The mock battle began.
Three minutes later,
“Hm, about what I expected.”
“Impossible…!”
I sheathed my sword casually while Orvin-san was on all fours, staring at the ground.
Our positions clearly showed the winner.
(I’m really something else…)
Hollow von Heisenberg was beyond imagination.
Immense magic power, overwhelming physical strength, and a devilish mind—his base specs were cheat-level.
Orvin-san was strong. His pure swordsmanship skills far surpassed mine.
But… my immense magic power and natural strength overwhelmed his refined technique.
It’s like I was a gorilla and Orvin-san was a squirrel.
The gap in physical strength left no room for swordsmanship to matter.
(But… even after beating a strong opponent like Orvin-san, I don’t feel like I leveled up.)
From my memory, the original Hollow’s level at this point is around 5.
Beating Orvin-san should’ve raised me to level 10, but I felt nothing.
Instead, the sword felt familiar in my hand.
No status or skill windows, no level-up signs—it seems the key to getting stronger in this world is ‘proficiency.’
A realistic growth system where steady training pays off.
Nice, that suits my humble and diligent approach.
While thinking this,
“…Impossible…”
Orvin-san muttered in frustration.
No surprise there.
He lost to a beginner who just picked up a sword.
But I can’t get cocky.
I only won with raw talent in strength and magic.
In pure swordsmanship, I’m nowhere near Orvin-san.
(It’s probably these ‘mistaken victories’ that bred arrogance and created the tragic monster that was the original Hollow…)
A genius who doesn’t try loses to a hardworking average person.
No matter how great the talent, it’s wasted without effort.
(But a hardworking genius is truly ‘the strongest’! I’ll cast aside arrogance and steadily grow stronger!)
For that, I need Orvin-san’s help now.
“—Orvin, how many years did you hone that sword?”
The same line from the original story slipped out naturally.
“…My entire life was devoted to it…”
Orvin-san, filled with despair, answered faintly.
Born with almost no magic, he trained relentlessly, achieving top-tier swordsmanship skills in the game.
His honest dedication is noble and beautiful.
It’s what I, aiming to be humble and diligent, should emulate.
But—the original Hollow mocked him here.
[Pfft, hahaha! A sword you spent your life on? What a cheap life!]
He insulted and broke Orvin-san’s lifelong path.
I won’t do something so wasteful.
“A sword you spent your life on, huh. No wonder it’s beautiful.”
“…What did you say…?”
Orvin-san looked up in shock.
“Didn’t hear me? I said your sword is beautiful.”
“What are you saying…? My sword is trivial. Hollow-sama’s sword is far superior—”
“No, my sword is garbage. It’s just swinging raw talent around, not rational at all.”
“No, that’s not—”
“Stop with the obvious flattery. If you had my magic power, would you swing a sword so clumsily?”
“…(He’s right… Hollow-sama’s swordsmanship isn’t praiseworthy. If I had his magic, I wouldn’t fight so crudely.)”
Orvin-san fell silent.
“Orvin, the sword you devoted your life to. I’ll take it up and lead it to the top. Will you guide me?”
“…”
No response.
(Oh no, did I mess up…?)
I got too into playing the original Hollow and spoke too arrogantly. That might’ve been too much.
“Uh, sorry, I was too harsh—”
“—Your words honor me beyond measure…! I, Orvin Dunkelt, will serve as your guide with all my being!”
“Huh? Oh… yeah, thanks.”
And so, I began learning swordsmanship from Orvin-san.
“First, hold the sword. Grip the handle with your right hand like a handshake, and gently place your left hand below.”
“Got it.”
“The basic stance is seigan, like a thread hanging from the top of your head.”
“I see.”
“The key to a slash is weight transfer. Plant your hips firmly and slash fluidly.”
“Like this?”
From gripping the sword to stances and slashing techniques, he drilled me thoroughly from basics to advanced.
A year passed in a flash, and the moment arrived.
“Let’s begin.”
“Yes.”
In the garden, Orvin-san and I locked eyes quietly.
Under gentle sunlight, with birds chirping, we dashed forward as if by agreement.
“Haa!”
“Ngh!”
Our practice swords clashed fiercely.
No magic-enhanced strength, just pure swordsmanship.
One clash, two, three—sharp sounds rang out, red sparks flying.
“Shi!”
Orvin-san stepped in deeply, thrusting sharply.
I met it gently with my sword tip, sliding along the blade, stepping forward, and unleashing a diagonal slash.
“Hah!”
“Ngh!?”
Orvin-san’s sword was still mid-recovery.
Unable to defend, he sidestepped, narrowly escaping.
(Chance!)
Though he pulled his sword back, his stance was off.
I closed the distance instantly, attacking like wildfire.
“Haaaa! (I’ll push through…!)”
“Ngh, ooo…! (One step behind…!)”
After fierce exchanges,
“There!”
“Gah!?”
Orvin-san’s ironclad guard showed a slight opening.
(Now…!)
I swung down from high, reaching for my first victory.
But,
“Not yet!”
Orvin-san used his free left hand as a shield.
The practice sword was iron.
A dull crunch of breaking bones echoed, his weathered face twisting in pain.
Yet his movements didn’t falter, stepping forward fluidly.
Sacrificing one arm, his stubborn drive to win was gritty—and beautiful.
“My win!”
Orvin-san, more alive than ever, unleashed a full-force slash.
A surprise attack.
Normally, no one could react.
But I knew.
Orvin-san hates losing so much he’d sacrifice an arm to win.
“Impressive tenacity.”
“What!?”
A horizontal slash cut through the air, and his sword fell from his rugged hand.
A dry clank echoed as my sword tip rested at his wrinkled throat.
“—My win, right?”
“—Yes, splendidly done.”
A duel settled by pure swordsmanship, not magic.
Unlike his first defeat, Orvin-san’s face was bright.
“To be surpassed in a year… as expected of the young master.”
“Hmph, obviously.”
I played the original Hollow, brushing it off coldly.
But somehow, I felt Orvin-san understood.
That it was thanks to his guidance, my gratitude.
“Now, I have one ‘final task’ left, so I’ll take my leave.”
Having given his all, he smiled as if relieved and headed toward the mansion’s entrance.
(My role is done. My life’s proof—this sword—has been passed to Hollow-sama. I have no regrets. I’ll submit my resignation to the master and take my leave.)
As we passed,
“—Farewell, Hollow-sama.”
I thought I heard Orvin-san mutter, but it was swallowed by a spring breeze.
(…Final task?)
No event came to mind, but oh well.
For now—
“Hey, what time tomorrow?”
“…Huh…?”
Orvin-san turned slowly, frozen with a stunned look.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. What time’s tomorrow’s training?”
Training ends with a mock battle, then we set tomorrow’s time.
That’s the routine.
(Maybe the shock of losing was too much? …I should’ve been more considerate.)
As I regretted my thoughtlessness,
“…!”
Orvin-san trembled, tears welling in his eyes, then knelt abruptly to hide them.
“S-Sorry… I wasn’t thinking, take a rest—”
“—Hollow-sama’s… kindness… I’ve received it fully. I, Orvin Dunkelt, swear to serve you with my life.”
“Huh…? Oh, yeah, thanks.”
…Somehow, Orvin-san’s loyalty went beyond all limits.