Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

A slight flinch came on Nathalie's body as the arrow flew past her cheek, and went straight to the ground, also almost grazing over her fingers by a hair's breadth.

If she lowered down even further, then she would've gotten worse than it.

Not that she didn't want to mention a puncture in her head, but a glimpse of it shuddered her to the core.

Foremost, she didn't even notice such dangers until the glint came.

Her idea to forage went out of the window.

'My goodness, what is this even?!'

But the question, how she didn't notice anyone first, remained to bother her for a while. It was but a normal shot without an ounce of magic imbued to it; for an arrow to fly such in several yards.

'Seriously, this is a trap. I got too allured by it. Should've trusted my gut instinct—'

Before she could even stand, a sheen of the edge's weapon appeared from her peripheral vision; and her gut almost dropped flat from the danger that awaited her.

It didn't help that the aura creeping her slender back gave such chills, seeping deep to her spine.

Only then, from the arboreal winds that blew past her, the heavy rustles on the branches died out when she noticed so many vague silhouettes emerged from the thickets of the forest.

'What did I even get myself into…' Nathalie pressed her lips thin while her eyes closed as she pondered heavily. Her eyes looked sideways and noticed it was a spear— with two spiky wings on opposite ends of it, protruding, but her attention to details struck from the magic runes engraved near the socket.

'Those runes are familiar—'

"A stranger… Who are you?" A deep, husky voice erupted in her ears, perking them a tad bit.

None of which helped when they slowly emerged; she noticed several men and women appearing in the forest.

Their skin wasn't as pale as hers but the variation of their eyes surprised her, a palette belonging to nature— from blue, brown, and green— as well as their pointed ears.

They donned a few leather armors— tied bodice, greaves, and bracers— with cotton tunics and trousers underneath.

Not only that as some of them had worn leather and cotton attire with slight armor plating; but their eyes gleamed as near as gold.

'Elves and Werewolves… But they don't know me—?!'

"I won't repeat myself twice!" Her mind shut down, unsure what to think but her body screamed to live; as such, she raised her trembling finger. But it earned a raised, stern voice from the same man. "Halt your advances! Speak!"

When she opened her mouth, no words left her lips; however, it didn't stop her from forcing her voice, even if it was raspy.

"...Myst—"

"Louder!" His loud growl had her limbs tremble despite her face on a stoic facade.

"Mystique..."

"Hmm?" 

The man pulled away from his spear; then trudged close to her, better at her front to get a clearer picture. 

But it also gave her the same result.

'He's a handsome, suave man— Roland?! No, wait! That color…'

From his spiky flax hair with a low fade on both sides, orange eyes, and a slight scar on his left jaw, it was only one character she remembered.

But never did she think that she would meet him here.

Not at this time yet.

"Charles Raoul Salvatore?"

They were rather surprised to hear her sultry voice, which was now crystal clear. Giving them quite a glance, but they shrugged it off right away.

Especially the valiant yet ruthless man in front of him.

A scoff came from his scantily chapped behind his alluring lips while he bore a sinister gaze.

"You say my name so clearly yet so hard on yours? Even without such honorifics…"

Nathalie got taken aback as she blurted it out, and she noticed the sudden murmurs and nasty glares from them. 

'Oh no—' 

Suddenly, he grabbed her bun; she squirmed as he forced her to chin up. A slight twitch came from her eyebrows but she remained calm from it, despite the forceful tug.

"You seem perfectly fine… This hair is..." he trailed off his voice, letting out a hum. "I remember a particular woman, but up the north. Indeed, Mystique..."

Soon as he deduced, her face lit up but when she nodded, he tugged even further.

"Quite a fierce imposter that you are; I heard the news of a sick Lady Blackwell staying at the castle to recover; not in this sacred ground— here..." 

'Huh? What?! No—'

He then stabbed the spear on the ground.

"Your expression does say something… But I don't think that Lady utters words that clear; let alone so well."

Nathalie's emotion ran high, up and down, like a roller coaster; but this time reached a dead end.

Even her movements got locked in place; never had been this taxing since.

Right now, she couldn't even read him; at any aspect, this man exceeded her gauge.

Which only meant he became so stronger than he had ever been; stronger than what she knew then.

'Near perfectly masked presence and strength…' Even the rest of them turned out the same.

'How far did Athan go?! Good heavens; I've also deemed imposter?!'

"I suppose the cat got your tongue."

Meanwhile, he ordered under him with a slight nod to the left, and they moved in quickly.

But not that she'd expected better with their weapons, a variety of them and sharp; although the majority were spears and swords, the daggers were almost at her vital points.

The wielders masked themselves with dark clothing, and she would never know what they looked like.

"You seem like an elusive person, and with major events happening, it's not that hard to connect." His grin loomed doom behind it, which shuddered her. "We even had to tighten the security. I'm impressed that someone got past a lot of it— we had to stop the community celebration, thanks to you."

His words tinged with satire, enough to stab her chest over and over again.

Nathalie was about to open her mouth when another man came to him with a piece of paper to read. 

Before Charles turned around, he then continued, "Confiscate everything she had; take her as a hostage!"

She couldn't budge when her neck bloomed a pang, and her vision dwindled until she lost consciousness.