Transmigrated As The Villainess' Boyfriend With A... SSS Harem System?

The Empero Council's chamber had no windows.

Four walls of gray stone. A vaulted ceiling with engravings of the seven seals of the noble houses. A round table of dark oak so polished that my reflection was visible on its surface. And twelve pairs of eyes watching me from behind it.

Sitting in the center, I occupied a backless chair. Deliberately uncomfortable. Surrounded by lights pointing at me.

To my left, Duralianne Danyarta. Legs crossed. Her pink Empero contained. With that mix of sweetness and steel.

To my right, Vauxol Aliandys. Reclined in his chair.

Next to Vauxol was Professor Wilda. She stared at me, brow and lips pressed tight.

Fendrel, the elderly Botany professor, scratched his dirt-stained hands.

Besides the professors I knew, there were three others I had heard of and seen occasionally in the hallways, who were supposed to teach me for the first time the following week. Cordevan, of Politics and Diplomacy, had his arms crossed and a scar on his neck that gleamed under the lamplight. Trazadora Garialys, the young Art professor, looked at the ceiling with boredom. Dorian Valente, the Performing Arts professor, examined his nails.

And at the back, two figures I only knew from rumors.

The first was a man in unadorned black armor. Two swords at his belt. Enormous hands on the table. This could only be the commander of the Earolden Empero Knights and Ladies Squadron.

One of the most powerful people to ever set foot in this world.

The second was a woman with white hair cut to her jawline. Gray eyes and a posture as straight as Lianza's. The head of the Empero Investigators Unit.

Twelve people, judging me through the light projected by those luminous plants that acted as spotlights.

I felt like an ant surrounded by elephants.

"Dariel Elcronne," Cordevan said. His voice was dry. Pragmatic. "Before we begin, do you understand why you're here?"

"Lethal use of Empero in a training match," I replied.

"No, little clod. You're here because you almost killed a student."

"I didn't touch her."

"Your bar would have pierced her if I hadn't stopped it."

"But it didn't pierce her. Because you stopped it. And because I opened my palm before impact."

Duralianne pressed her lips.

"The boy is right," the man in black armor said. His voice resonated throughout the chamber. "In real combat, the objective is to neutralize the threat before it neutralizes you. Student Vane launched six wind blasts without stopping. Elcronne responded with proportional force."

"Proportional?" Duralianne turned to him, her pink Empero rippling. "A bar of concentrated Empero aimed at the chest of an eighteen-year-old student. Is that 'proportional'?"

"It's deterrent," I replied. "The bar would stop if I lowered my palm."

"And if you didn't?"

"I was going to. But you intervened."

It was a lie. Lowering my palm was the furthest thing from my intentions. In that moment, all that mattered was winning, proving that Lianza D'Tariel's personal bodyguard couldn't be a weakling. Had Professor Duralianne not intervened, my bar would have pierced Alexia.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

Wilda struck the desk with her ruler.

"The problem isn't just the match. The problem is that a lowborn noble, with an Empero awakened less than a week ago, is already using abilities that require Rank B control. How is that possible?"

Vauxol smiled with a hint of complicity.

"Perhaps because some students are more diligent than others, dear Wilda."

"This is not a joke," the woman with the scar intervened. The head of Investigators. Her voice was calm but cutting. "Do you not remember yesterday's emergency meeting? A student has died in this academy. And now another is nearly seriously injured by a classmate. Do you not see the pattern?"

Silence fell over the table.

She was talking about Dayne. And she was linking his death to my match.

"With all due respect," Fendrel said, his voice soft, "young Elcronne was looking for Lady Canaria's cat when he found the body. There's no evidence connecting him to the murder."

"No one has accused him of that, Professor Fendrel," the investigator replied. "I'm merely pointing out that violent behavior tends to escalate."

"Are we calling strategy violence now?" I said.

"Strategy that nearly killed your classmate, darling," Duralianne countered, refusing to drop the subject.

"Strategy that disarmed her without touching her."

"Instincts aren't controlled with promises, dear Elcronne. And what will happen next time you use that kind of strategy and I'm not there to stop you?"

Standing up from my chair, I faced her directly.

"Had I not trusted in your capacity as a professor certified by the Empero Council itself to teach practical Empero, I wouldn't have used that kind of strategy, Professor Duralianne Danyarta."

Nods came from the majority of professors. However, Duralianne and Wilda still refused to yield.

And so the discussion continued for a few more minutes. Wilda argued that my lack of etiquette extended to my way of fighting. Dorian said something theatrical about passion and tragedy. Cordevan cut him off with a gesture. Vauxol observed, amused by the situation. He offered nothing useful.

Trazadora Garialys, the youngest of all, raised her hand.

"Excuse me. May I say something?"

Cordevan nodded.

"Ever since Theren mentioned the boy to me, something about him interested me, so I observed the match from afar." Trazadora spoke with calm. "Elcronne's Empero is conceptual. It's related to art and requires time to function. While he was devising his strategy, Alexia Vane launched six wind blasts at him without any restraint. If he hadn't created that bar, he would be in the infirmary with broken ribs. Or worse."

My eyebrows rose. Defending me was the last thing I expected from anyone.

"Which doesn't justify..." Wilda cut in.

"Which justifies," Trazadora reaffirmed, firm in her argument, "that a lowborn student with a newly awakened Empero survives six attacks from one of the ten strongest students in Mayorka. And that he does so without injuring anyone."

I looked at her. She immediately reminded me of Theren. Coming from the same territory. Same way of seeing what others don't. Same desire to change the order of this world.

"Enough," Cordevan said. "The vote will be..."

"It won't be necessary."

The voice came from the corner. From the shadows.

Everyone turned. So did I.

Theren Valdris was sitting in a chair that had been empty before. Barefoot. Messy gray hair. White eyes without pupils. His white Empero emanated in slow waves, engulfing the entire chamber as if he were a king on his throne.

I swallowed hard.

The greatest prodigy in Mayorka's history had attended the meeting.