How to Survive as a Supporting Male Lead

“So, you’re telling me you’re going to pick up the Saintess just to mess with Kallian? Did you seriously just say that out loud? Wow! No, you crazy bastard! I mean, you’re aware that if Kallian snaps, he could actually kill you, right? And yet… that’s what you come up with? Grow up, you idiot!”

“Right back at you.”

“Aargh! Iann!”

“But I can’t pass up a chance to annoy Kallian, can I? And besides, if I wait any longer, he’ll just start beating me at everything. I have to seize this chance while I can. Right? It makes sense, right?”

“Hah…”

“I mean, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, the future where Kallian kills me could still happen. Doesn’t it sound miserable to just keel over without putting up a fight? I’ve got to at least get a few good jabs in and then bail!”

“No, that’s not how….”

“Going about it normally won’t work.”

“Is this even something a normal person would think up?”

“I’m not a normal person. I’m a handsome and stylish archmage.”

“Ugh…”

Derrick buried his face in his hands, processing it all. Iann, who could end up killed by Kallian, yet still insisting on one last attempt to torment him by dragging the Saintess along, even if it meant risking his life…

It was… almost admirable?

Finally, Derrick raised his head, resigning himself to his choice. As absurd as it was, he realized he was to blame for following Iann without proper questioning. When a child throws a tantrum, adults are supposed to intervene, but Derrick had failed to play the grown-up.

Still, he couldn’t deny that Iann’s boldness had a certain appeal. Accepting his own culpability, Derrick sighed.

“Fine. You’re right. About everything.”

“Did you just find enlightenment or something?”

With a benevolent smile, Derrick nodded gently.

“Alright, listen to this. I thought of something—what if we had a code word?”

“A code word?”

“Yeah. I’m not planning to just let Kallian kill me. I’ll keep pushing him, but only to the point where I can still get away. So we need a secret code for when it’s time to bolt.”

“So… the moment you say it, we drop everything and run?”

“Exactly! I’ve been layering the mage tower with protective spells just for this. So the code is our signal to retreat to the tower.”

“Well, at least you’ve got that right. Got a code word in mind?”

“How about ‘air raid’?”

“Where did that even come from?”

“I don’t know, it just popped into my head.”

Iann glossed over the explanation. He couldn’t exactly mention it was a meme from his past life.

“Fine, whatever. So if you yell ‘air raid,’ I’ll start packing?”

“No, no. You have the bags ready, and the moment I shout ‘air raid,’ we just hightail it.”

“Sure, whatever you say. All set, then? Nothing else?”

Exhausted from Iann’s endless, crazy schemes, Derrick slumped backward, his energy thoroughly drained.

“Alright, I’m going to sleep.”

“Hey! It’s way too early to sleep; there’s still plenty of night left!”

“Tomorrow’s going to be busy… just go to bed…”

Derrick’s voice faded as he drifted off, and soon, soft snores filled the room. Iann, prodding Derrick’s shoulder, eventually shifted to the edge of the bed.

But unlike Derrick, sleep didn’t come easily for Iann.

An odd feeling kept him restless, as if something weighty hovered just out of reach. Could this really be how the story begins? Would it truly end in his death?

Even after losing his sister nineteen years ago and witnessing so much, Iann still struggled to believe fully in the novel’s world and its inexorable plot.

“Maybe… I just don’t want to believe it.”

The novel had brought nothing but pain and inevitable defeat for Iann, the second male lead. Although he’d told Derrick he was only going to collect the Saintess to annoy Kallian, part of him wanted to confirm things for himself.

He needed to see with his own eyes whether this was really a fictional world—or simply his imagination. He didn’t have the nerve to sit idly by, waiting for Kallian to bring the Saintess himself.

One way or another, tomorrow would decide it. Iann, finally letting go of his gnawed lip, covered his eyes with his hands.

Would there really be a woman in the middle of that snowy forest?

* * *

“Hm….”

Iann stifled a groan. Next to him, he could feel Derrick casting him a curious look. Feigning nonchalance, Iann rubbed his eyes. But the figure didn’t disappear.

So she was there.

In the middle of the snow-covered forest stood a woman, dressed in thin clothing.

“Looks like… it’s really happening.”

His heart thundered so loud, it felt as if it would burst through his chest. Every fiber of his being was aware of it. It was as if he were the only person left stranded in a desolate, snow-covered wasteland.

Well, it made sense if you thought about it logically. Last night’s anxieties, which had kept Iann awake, were just the answers settling into place.

Iann’s life had always been like this. No matter how much he struggled, the larger events—the brutal moments that marked his life—played out exactly as they did in the novel. The sudden, mysterious death of his parents; his sister, who passed away despite his desperate attempts to alter fate after realizing this world was a novel; the innate, unexpected gift for magic; and, of course, Kallian’s inevitable rise to surpass him in power. And now, the woman before him, who would soon be revered as the Saintess.