I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 119: A Small Test

Ashok watched intently as the Imperial Princess made her elegant way toward the empty seat beside the Heir of Cindergarde.

Ashok, seated in his usual composed manner, couldn't help but think, 'With this, everything is in place.'

His gaze shifted to the two figures trailing closely behind the Princess. They moved toward the remaining two empty seats in the classroom.

One of them, Ashok appeared to be heading straight for the empty spot next to him—a peculiar development given that no one else had shown the slightest inclination to occupy it until now.

'Looks like my desk mate is going to be one of the Princess's lackeys,' thought Ashok. Though, he couldn't deny the faint surprise bubbling within him. 'Strange that no one came to sit here until the very last.'

However, as his eyes returned to the front of the class, Ashok froze slightly. His crimson eyes locked briefly onto the radiant, golden gaze of the Princess herself, who had suddenly diverted her steps.

Her previously fixed trajectory toward the first-row seat beside the Cindergarde Heir shifted without warning. The sound of her heels echoed softly as she gracefully wove her way through the rows of benches.

As the princess closed the distance between them, a very bad feeling started to form in his heart.

Ashok kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead, refusing to meet her golden eyes, though he could see her approaching from the corner of his vision.

The tension in the room was palpable as the Imperial Princess stood mere centimeters away from Ashok. Her calm voice, polite voice echoed in the classroom, "Will you mind if I sit beside you?"

Ashok's heart sank as he felt the weight of 49 pairs of eyes boring into him, their collective attention magnified by the Princess's unexpected choice.

'Fuuuuuuuuuck! LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!' he screamed internally, his mind racing with frustration and disbelief.

[Attention Level: Medium]

[False Monarch]

'Anyone but this bitch,' he cursed internally, knowing full well that the Imperial Princess was the absolute worst match for him.

Her Personality Trait—Attention Seeker—was a glaring red flag for someone like Ashok, who craved peace and anonymity. The thought of her sitting beside him, disrupting his carefully cultivated quiet, was enough to make his blood boil.

And yet, the reality was unavoidable.

If the Princess chose to sit beside him, it wouldn't just be a fleeting moment—it would likely remain unchanged until the Ranking Evaluation.

The implications were suffocating, especially with the added weight of the main characters in the first row now staring at him.

The Heir of Cindergarde, in particular, looked utterly shocked, her fiery red eyes wide enough to seem like they might pop out of her head.

The whispers behind him grew louder, each one a dagger to his already fraying nerves:

"Who is that guy?"

"Why is the Imperial Princess asking to sit with him?"

"Does the Imperial Princess know him in anyway?"

"How long is he going to keep the Princess standing?"

'If only I could change places,' Ashok thought bitterly, but his False Monarch trait held him in place like an unyielding anchor.

Rising from his seat, evading the situation entirely, was not an option because that would be not like a Monarch. His thoughts simmered with frustration, but outwardly, his demeanor remained unshaken, stoic.

Tilting his head ever so slightly, Ashok allowed his crimson eyes to flick upward briefly, meeting the golden gaze that seemed to be waiting for his reply.

His mouth opened, and the words emerged.

"I mind it! Go sit somewhere else," said Ashok, his tone as commanding and cold as steel. Then, as if dismissing the matter entirely, he turned his gaze forward, his posture deliberate, his focus seemingly undisturbed.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

With Ashok single reply, a suffocating silence fell over the classroom, as though Ashok's words had sucked all the air from the room.

The faint sounds of whispers ceased entirely.

Moments ago, the students had stared at Ashok with curiosity, some with envy, pondering his audacity to ignore the Imperial Princess's approach. Now, every single one of them stared at him with stunned disbelief, their expressions frozen in shock.

For what kind of person, no—what kind of madman—could reject the Imperial Princess with such cold finality?

The Imperial Princess stood frozen for a moment, her golden eyes wide with disbelief. In her mind, a single question echoed like a thunderclap: 'Did I just get rejected?'

For someone raised in the lap of luxury, with the world bent to her whims, rejection was an alien concept, a term that had never existed in her pristine dictionary.

She had been born with the privileges of the Imperial Family, her every wish granted without question, her very presence demanding respect and admiration.

And yet, here she stood, on the first day of her Academy life, facing a cold-hearted refusal—a rejection delivered with the authoritative tone of someone completely unimpressed by her stature.

The silence that had held the classroom hostage a moment ago shattered. The whispers started low, like faint ripples in a calm sea, but quickly grew louder, surging into a wave of disbelief that rolled through the room.

"Did he just say that?"

"He rejected her?"

"Who in the world is that guy?"

The tension in the classroom reached a fever pitch as one of the lackeys following the Imperial Princess could no longer hold back his outrage.

The echo of disbelief still lingered in the air from Ashok's cold rejection, and the lackey closest to Ashok's desk suddenly stepped forward, his face flushed with indignation.

"HEY YOU…" he shouted, his voice ringing out in the otherwise silent room, drawing every eye toward him. His anger was palpable, a mix of indignation and disbelief that someone could speak to the Imperial Princess in such a manner.

But just as the lackey was about to let loose a string of words that would undoubtedly escalate the situation, the sharp sound of heels clicking against the polished stone floor silenced him.

Every head swiveled toward the source of the sound as the classroom's front door swung open.

The commanding presence of a woman entered the room, her figure cutting through the air of chaos with an imposing sense of authority.

The teacher, dressed immaculately in the Academy's formal attire, strode purposefully to the single chair and desk positioned at the front of the classroom.

Her gaze was as sharp as the sound of her heels, sweeping across the room in a manner that brooked no nonsense.

She reached the desk, turned to face the students, and with a voice that carried effortlessly to every corner of the room, she announced, "Students, get seated in the nearest empty seats. The class will now begin."

Her tone left no room for argument. The tension that had crackled moments ago evaporated as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over the room.

The Imperial Princess's lackeys, who had been bristling with indignation, instantly froze.

Begrudgingly, they swallowed their frustration and, with visible reluctance, moved toward the empty seats further back in the classroom.

Teeth clenched and shoulders stiff, they passed by Ashok's desk without another word, their earlier bravado snuffed out by the teacher's commanding presence.

Ashok, however, remained as immovable as ever. He showed no sign of shifting, his posture unwavering, his eyes fixed ahead as though the earlier commotion had not involved him at all.

His refusal to budge left the Imperial Princess with little choice but to adjust her own course.

After a fleeting moment of hesitation, she gracefully moved around the desk and, with poise befitting her status, took the seat on the opposite side of Ashok.

The room, now quiet but brimming with unspoken tension, seemed to hold its breath as the Imperial Princess sat beside Ashok.

As Teacher Mia stood at the head of the class, her presence alone was enough to captivate every student. Her dark blue hair framed her face like a cascade of midnight, perfectly complementing her piercing blue eyes, which held the icy brilliance of a frozen tundra.

The curves of her enchanting figure, though modestly wrapped in her professional attire, drew subtle admiration, as her mere appearance seemed to carry a cold, regal elegance.

A faint, almost imperceptible aura of power surrounded her, commanding attention with an effortless grace.

Nearly every student in the classroom was struck by her beauty. Some wore expressions of awe, while others blushed furiously, their faces tinged with red.

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Yet, despite the countless pairs of eyes fixed on her, Teacher Mia remained unperturbed. Her tone calm and composed, she began her introduction.

"Hello, new students of the Aether Classroom. I am Mia, your Homeroom Teacher. You can address me as Teacher Mia or simply Teacher. Since all the seats are filled, I will not be taking the attendance and—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the classroom erupted into a cacophony of shouts.

"It's the Ice Phoenix!"

"Wow! A Star of the Empire!"

"The youngest human in history to reach the S Rank!"

The students, now buzzing with excitement, couldn't contain their awe. Their voices overlapped as admiration turned into fervor. Many had already heard of her legendary exploits—the prodigy who had carved her name into the annals of the Empire's history with her unparalleled achievements.

Mia, however, appeared unimpressed by the flurry of praise.

Ashok, seated with his usual impassive demeanor, glanced briefly at the commotion. His crimson eyes flicked toward Teacher Mia, and he caught a glimpse of subtle irritation hidden behind her otherwise calm expression.

Watching her, a smirk came on his face as he thought 'It's coming.'

It is good that everyone in the class has so much energy," she said smoothly, her tone laced with an eerie calm. "So then, we should start the class with a small test."

The moment the words left her lips, an oppressive force descended upon the classroom.