I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 118: Imperial Princess

The classroom buzzed faintly as more students trickled in, filling the space with a quiet hum of activity. Ashok, seated in the third row, second column, kept his observations discreet, his sharp gaze scanning each new arrival without drawing attention to himself.

Despite his efforts to remain unnoticed, the truth was that no one paid him any mind.

The focus of the room was firmly fixed on the prominent figures—the Elven Princess and the heir of Cindergarde seated in the first row, and the two black-haired beauties occupying the last bench near the window.

These individuals commanded the room's attention effortlessly, their presence overshadowing everyone else.

Among them, the barbarian stood out as a physical anomaly. His sheer size made it nearly impossible for anyone to share a bench with him comfortably.

Yet, that didn't stop a thin girl with thick glasses and a frail figure from gathering the courage to approach him. Her timid steps drew the attention of the entire class, as everyone silently assumed the barbarian would reject her outright.

To their surprise, the barbarian merely glanced at the girl for a brief moment before shifting to the side. The movement was almost comical—his massive frame left half of his body precariously hanging off the edge of the bench.

The girl, visibly flustered, hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him. Ashok couldn't help but notice the faint twitch of her lips and the slight redness in her cheeks as she settled into her seat.

The contrast between her delicate figure and the barbarian's overwhelming presence was striking, and the scene added a touch of unexpected levity to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

The atmosphere in the classroom shifted dramatically as the chain of events unfolded. The faint hum of conversations stilled as attention turned to the male figure approaching the heir of the Cindergarde Duchy.

Bolstered by the earlier courage of the thin girl who had managed to secure a seat beside the barbarian, the student gathered his resolve. He approached the fiery red-haired heir with a polite smile and began, "Hello! My name is…"

But before he could even finish his sentence, her response came like a whip crack. "Try sitting if you want to die," the heir said coldly, her tone sharp and final. Small flames danced ominously around her fingertips, the heat radiating off her enough to send a clear message.

The unfortunate student paled visibly, stumbling over his own feet as he hastily backed away. His retreat was a spectacle that didn't go unnoticed.

The other male students, who had been tentatively eyeing the Elven Princess for similar attempts, thought better of it and withdrew quietly, deciding they valued their lives far too much.

And yet, despite the obvious hierarchy and the invisible barrier now placed around the first bench, someone unexpected broke through it.

A male figure, unlike the others, strode confidently past the gawking students without hesitation or concern. His casual demeanor set him apart as he approached the seat between the Elven Princess and the heir of Cindergarde.

Ignoring the tension in the air, he simply took his place on the bench as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

The boldness of this act sent a ripple through the classroom. By now, an unspoken hierarchy had formed. The first bench was clearly reserved for the "True Geniuses"—a group no one dared to challenge or approach lightly.

Yet this new figure had bypassed all protocol, seating himself amidst the elite with effortless composure. Whispers spread rapidly through the room, tinged with curiosity and disbelief.

"Who is he?"

"Do you think he's even stronger than them?"

Ashok, watched the scene unfold with sharp interest. Though his gaze remained passive, a smirk formed on his lips 'And now we have the strongest side character,'

The already lively atmosphere of the classroom escalated into full-blown commotion as the next pair of students entered, their presence demanding attention louder than the subdued whispers that had filled the room before.

This time, it wasn't just the curiosity of the students—it was excitement, awe, and a palpable sense of reverence. The exclamations rippled through the air in waves.

"Hero of Light!"

"Ah! He's so handsome!"

"Look beside him! It's the Prodigy of the Magic Tower!"

"The one who's said to be the Reincarnation of the Archmage!"

"The only one in the world with four affinities!"

Leading the pair was Leon, the legendary Hero of Light. His arrival was akin to a divine blessing, his presence electrifying.

With his flowing white hair and striking silver eyes, he embodied perfection—every feature sculpted to resemble a god's ideal creation. His aura radiated purity and heroism, drawing all the females in the room toward him as though he were a beacon.

Leon was the type of figure who didn't simply enter a room; he dominated it.

And yet, beside Leon walked a figure who managed to eclipse his magnetism in her own way. The girl was a vision—her cascading purple hair a shimmering wave of elegance, complementing her sharp brown eyes. But it wasn't just her beauty that captivated; it was her reputation.

She was the Prodigy of the Magic Tower, a woman hailed as the reincarnation of the Archmage, the singular talent in the world blessed with mastery over four affinities.

Her steps exuded quiet confidence, and while her beauty drew admiration from every corner, her attention was entirely fixed on Leon.

To her, it seemed as though nobody else existed, her gaze unwavering and focused solely on him.

Ashok adjusted his glasses, his piercing red eyes sharp as he observed the pair take their place. They moved without hesitation toward the first bench near the window and seated themselves together, cementing the significance of their arrival.

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The attention in the classroom had shifted entirely to them, drawing all focus away from the other notable figures who had come before.

'The Hero's physique is already working its magic,' Ashok thought as he noted the effect Leon had on the students. 'And the first one to fall is the third-strongest character in the early game. This is going to be a problem.'

As the classroom murmurs died down after the arrival of the Hero of Light and the Prodigy of the Magic Tower, a new pair entered the room, immediately shifting the attention of the students once again.

The two figures bore a striking resemblance to one another, their similarity making it clear they were twins. Yet, unlike the previous duo, whose presence was greeted with admiration and awe, this pair was met with disdain.

The boy, Zog, radiated an intense air of defiance. His tiger-like ears twitched slightly atop his head, their striped fur matching the patterns that ran across his entire body.

His lean but visibly strong frame held an aura of restrained aggression, and his sharp eyes glinted with unspoken contempt as he returned the same disdainful looks cast his way by the other students.

The atmosphere surrounding him was tense, as though he were moments away from springing into action.

Beside him, the girl stood with a quieter but no less dangerous presence. While her appearance leaned more toward human, her striking feline eyes betrayed her Beastman heritage.

The vertically-oriented pupils gleamed with a predatory sharpness, and her neutral expression carried an undercurrent of menace.

Unlike Zog, who openly returned the glares of the others, she moved with controlled grace, her cold demeanor making her seem even more threatening than her brother. "Ignore them, Zog," she said, her voice calm but firm, exuding quiet authority.

The atmosphere in the classroom shifted once more as the next student entered, her presence commanding immediate attention and silencing the faint murmurs that lingered among the students.

The girl was a renowned figure within the empire, her identity unmistakable. Whispers spread quickly, though they carried a reverent undertone.

"It's the Heir of the Western Duchy,"

"She carries the strongest bloodline in the empire,"

The second comment could have been perceived as an insult to every other noble lineage present in the classroom, like the Cindergarde Heir or the Elf.

Yet no one dared to contest the statement because it was an undeniable fact. The abilities passed down through the bloodline of the Western Duchy were legendary, eclipsing even the Imperial Family's renowned talents.

The girl who now walked into the room possessed an aura unlike any other. Her presence was a reflection of discipline and command, akin to that of a seasoned leader.

Her straight, white hair seemed untouched by the faint breeze that carried through the room, hanging perfectly still. She had piercing blue eyes that carried a quiet intensity, the kind of gaze that held both authority and precision.

Her posture was immaculate—straight-backed and firm, her gait reminiscent of a soldier's marching steps. Every movement she made was deliberate, structured, and devoid of unnecessary flourish.

Without hesitation, she made her way to the seat beside the Elven Princess. Her actions carried a silent confidence, her choice of seat needing no approval or permission.

The Elven Princess didn't object, her sapphire eyes briefly glancing at the newcomer before turning away, their interaction wordless yet significant. Even after sitting, the Heir of the Western Duchy showed no signs of relaxation.

Her back remained straight and rigid, untouched by the backrest of the bench, a physical testament to her disciplined nature.

Ashok's thoughts danced in his mind, swirling between pride and disbelief as he found himself unconsciously comparing his False Monarch personality trait to the Commander trait exhibited by the Heir of the Western Duchy.

'Sure, her Commander Trait matches mine,' he mused, 'but at the end of the day, a Monarch surpasses a Commander. There's a fundamental difference between ruling and leading.' Then, catching himself basking in that fleeting pride, he shook his head slightly.

The realization was sobering—his personality trait, while superior in theory, offered no tangible advantage when it came to combat or survival.

Ashok's complex relationship with the main characters, driven by his resentment toward the God of Fate, colored his thoughts in subtle ways. He knew better than to let these comparisons distract him.

As the seconds ticked away, only five minutes remained before the start of the class. With three seats still unoccupied, the classroom buzzed faintly, anticipation hanging in the air.

Then, the door creaked open once again, announcing the arrival of the final trio of students.

The reaction from the classroom was immediate.

The classroom's energy surged as the Imperial Princess entered, her presence unmistakable and electrifying. Whispers turned to exclamations as students struggled to contain their awe.

"It's the Imperial Princess!"

"We're in the same class as someone from the Imperial Family!?"

Several students even stood up instinctively, only to sheepishly sit back down as they realized this wasn't the Imperial Castle, and such gestures were unnecessary here.

The Princess moved with elegance, her golden hair flowing like sunlight and her gleaming golden eyes alive with excitement—an unusual contrast to the regal, commanding aura typically associated with the Imperial Family.

Trailing behind her were two students, yet all attention remained on the Princess. Her gaze swept across the room with an innocent curiosity, pausing on the last empty seat in the first row beside the Heir of Cindergarde.

Her steps carried her toward the seat, and it seemed, for a moment, as though she would gracefully take her place among the elite of the first row.

But then, her cheerful eyes caught sight of a certain black-haired figure seated quietly in the third row. The change was immediate.

Her steps faltered, and she diverted course, weaving her way between the desks, the students watching her in stunned silence.

Every eye—whether belonging to a curious observer or a notable main character on the first bench—followed her movements.

The shift in her trajectory was unprecedented, breaking the unspoken hierarchy of the classroom and sending ripples of shock through the room.

The Heir of Cindergarde, who had been seated confidently in the first row, looked visibly shaken.

Her burning red eyes widened as she saw the Princess standing before the seat occupied by the black dot of her family—Adlet. The air grew tense, every student holding their breath as the Imperial Princess defied expectations.

Standing beside Ashok's desk, the Princess turned her golden gaze toward him. Her voice was clear and polite, but her presence carried undeniable weight as she asked, "Will you mind if I sit beside you?"