Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

"Out of all people and all places, Why is he here?" 

Athan mumbled almost inaudibly as soon as Veronica and Sylvester caught wind of the sudden screech from above in the middle of the night.

Leaves began to rustle against the fierce gale and then died out as soon as the wyvern landed before him. It stomped its feet several times before shaking the spiky tail to and fro.

Critters ran away when they noticed its cutthroat, vicious presence.

Gleaming turquoise eyes and semi-iridescent scales on its lean body was what was known for the wyverns at the north.

Arnold pulled the reins, and the wyvern spread its wings as it stood upright, breathing a mouthful of frosty mist. 

While the men and women under Sylvester's army got alarmed, stopping their tracks and unsheathing their weapons, Athan beckoned them to stay low.

However, they didn't let their vigilance drop as they become too attentive to the show Arnold had to put up for them.

When the wyvern calmed down, leaning close to the ground, Arnold slid on its left wing and dusted off the snowflakes on his gray high-quality leather cloak.

"If it isn't the Grand Ducal Highness of the North..." Athan had his chin up, hands at the back as he awaited him, unmounting it. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this… Sudden visitation?"

"Greetings, while I apologize for interrupting what..." Arnold trailed off his voice as he looked around, receiving their hostile gazes. "..Seemed to bustle at this hour, I need to deliver this news to you."

This furrowed Athan's eyebrows, thinking it would be a big deal for him to come a long way from the North.

The man before him was rather aloof and instead preferred working behind the scenes. Most of the time, he would decline every request, and if so, he had to ask someone to come and acted in his place.

With him being a messenger was rarer than once in a blue moon, and potentially affected his reputation or what seemed the case for him to forcefully come, even appearing here and facing his opposite faction.

Out of all things Athan thought of, there was one person that popped into his mind.

But he still set his assumptions aside and responded to him for noble etiquette's sake.

"What is it?"

"From my daughter, Mystique..."

The three of them looked at each other, exactly as he pondered not too long ago.

Though the idea of Arnold coming here, in these secluded, remote areas of the Western Territory— like he knew this place better than dwellers, Mystique came on top of her list. 

In his past life, Mystique would rather move out, with or without carrying his request; now things got reversed.

Arnold heaved a deep sigh, as he went to rummage his hands beneath the robe, mumbling, "Hmm, where was it? Where was it?"

Alas, his visage became too grim as he began to take his time quite longer than usual; meanwhile, the rest of them began to anticipate and looked at him dubiously.

Sylvester leaned to his side, whispering, "I've never seen him falter ever since that night."

Athan now squinted his eyes when he remembered how Arnold bowed and begged for his mercy; at first, it was too satisfying to see him crumble, but not for long with the bittersweet that loomed over him.

Like the wyvern, he was no different; but somehow, things changed when it came down to her.

After which, his face brightened as he finally picked it up, revealing a small metal slab in his hand.

Arnold mumbled, huffing his breath with a curse, "Damn it, I almost forgot what this name was, or else I'd never been able to pick it up inside the storage..."

It got their attention, mostly Athan, when he revealed it, and a bright flash of light greeted Arnold's face. His face was already graced of porcelain qualities and now sheened with it.

'That artifact again!'

While it alarmed everyone for the sudden beep and the arduous lighting, Sylvester still held the signal, for he also knew what was up.

The last time he saw it was also with Nathan, the Grand Duke of Forsberg, as he showed a similar item of Mystique. 

Foremost, he was rather amazed to hear the myriad quality of the music, booming aloud, from such a small size. He heard of it since, but not so much of in-depth detail, aside from that it has so many tricks up its sleeves.

Something reminded him of his past life, after pondering.

"That's… Some strange artifact you have there..." Sylvester chimed, trying to overlook the small object that was on Arnold's phone.

While he busied himself swiping through the bright, glossy screen, he didn't mind replying, "Hmm, I think so too. This… 'Smartphone' as what she called it is a must-have— a godly artifact."

'What—?! I remember that—'

Athan had goosebumps every inch of his body as soon as the word popped out of his mind; it was one of the developmental projects of technology he thought of after the decade of war. It was still a prototype that came from Mystique's plans, and was still in its primitive phase.'

Thinking back, the idea was too ambitious of everything it could do; but like Mystique's crazy inventions back then that she left as her legacy to continue to improve the rebirth of the Dysnomia Empire, every one of them came to fruition.

After years of trial and error, it succeeded but it still has its lapses. The plans she had bore so many large gaps that he had to patch it up.

Yet now, a fully realized item was right in front of him. Mystique had kept it under the dark all along as soon as he knew that she also lived another life.

'Does she plan to keep it herself? She doesn't trust my capabilities? Is that what she tells me now that she's showing me this through His Grace, Arnold?'

His blood boiled after all he had to keep up and regretted what he did. But he couldn't let it go on and gave her father some face.

After Arnold took his time, his face gleamed as he said, "There we go." Then showed it for them to see.

From there, Mystique's face popped up and so up close in such a small box view, musing. 

"Okay, father, is the camera rolling?"