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[Villian] Chapter 26: Adapt or Die
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 08:58:40 +0000 UTCDamien’s claws and fangs retreated to where they belonged. His bloodlust subsided as his perfect posture disappeared and indifference crumbled away. He stumbled toward a tree with watery eyes. His throat felt clogged as he gasped for breath. He tried to throw up, but nothing came out.
“What the fuck did I just do?” Damien muttered while clenching his bloodied fist tightly. “How can I just kill someone? Especially like that?”
Now that his body was no longer in control, he was horrified. He had sucked both Imryll and Fay’s blood to fuel his mana expenditure; otherwise, he never would have been able to use his Psychic magic for this long without damaging his own brain and mana circuits.
He was feeling the burn, despite his vampire’s regeneration. He had really gone overboard. “Ugh, everything hurts so fucking much!” Damien suppressed the urge to scream out. His body was on fire from his mana circuits being overused.
Damien let out a long sigh. “I’m being so pathetic right now. So, what if I killed someone? This is a different world. Earth’s morals don’t apply here. It’s not like Hastings gave a shit when he plunged that kitchen knife into my stomach over some stupid family politics.”
He looked at his pocket watch but didn’t open it. He felt looking at this watch helped him remember his reality. “I’m not that fucking guy anymore that was stuck in the hospital bed. I’m Damien Nightshade.”
He looked around while running a hand through his hair and was glad to see nothing but bare trees and frost-covered mud. “Luckily, nobody is here to witness me acting weird.”
Since he was completely out of mana, stamina, and the will to live, he decided to take a few minutes to rest and think about these recent events and his future.
He lay against a tree, watching his breath make small clouds as he exhaled out.
“In just a week, I was challenged to a duel, almost assassinated, and now I just had a life-and-death battle with a fucking necromancer? I knew this was going to be stressful from the start when I was reborn into a Fated Villain, but this is ridiculous!”
“I thought the death flags wouldn’t start for at least a year! How did Damien even survive until the storyline of the game in the first place? On the plus side, it seems Fay has a more favorable impression of me now. So that’s one death flag out of tway…”
He felt his mana pool slowly refilling as he rested. “This lazy trait really is useful,” Damien remarked as he almost fell asleep.
“You know, maybe it’s not all that bad,” Damien said after a while. “Noble vampires are near-immortal beings. So long as I am never killed, I will live for thousands of years. Compared to that, a mere few years of hardship aren’t worth mentioning.”
He chuckled. “It’s a shame my brother is sending assassins my way, and Prince August will take over the kingdom and launch a crusade against all vampires in his fantasy of gaining immortality.” Damien looked at the clear blue sky and imagined himself living in a floating castle and traveling the world.
“Hold on…” He muttered as a newfound passion appeared on his face. “This is a world of fucking magic! I can do anything I want if I’m powerful enough. I could rule and destroy kingdoms with a single wave of my hand, become friends with dragons, drink till dawn with dwarves, build floating cities…anything. Holy shit! Who cares about some shitty Alan the Necromancer? He was just a stepping stone for my rise to power.”
Damien glanced over at Alan's corpse. Previously, the sight had sickened him, but now he felt nothing—an absence of emotion that his body seemed to welcome, granting him greater control. Before, it had felt as though he inhabited his own body, yet his mind was clouded, tangled in a clash between vampire instincts and human traits. Now, everything was in sync. He possessed the best of both worlds: the rational decision-making of a human combined with the bloodthirsty, sadistic impulses of a vampire. This dangerous yet wonderful amalgamation would prove effective in both combat and diplomatic situations.
Damien grinned and stood up. He felt clear-headed and free. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. He was a villain, and he knew it. Why fight what was already destined?
He regained his posture and calm face as he glanced at the corpse one last time. “Law of the jungle, my friend, no hard feelings. Maybe you were also a Fated Villain?” The corpse didn’t answer.
Although he was still fatigued, Damien chucked as he left toward the car and ghouls. He had experience points to gain, after all.
***
A young man with dazzling blond hair was looking down at his subordinate. His usual friendly smile was completely gone and instead replaced with a pained expression.
“I’m sorry, my prince, the operation failed…”
Prince August glared at the man and said in a cold tone, “Ben, you know my condition is getting worse by the day. The lich soul inside me is draining my life essence faster than I can replace it. You promised me that the Black Council would send an agent with a one hundred percent success rate. So how could he possibly fail against some useless teacher’s assistant?”
Ben trembled as his master's gaze, filled with the chilling void of death, bore into him. Ever since Prince August had signed a pact with a lich, he had been slowly dying. The only way to stave off the lich's soul, which threatened to consume and take over his body, was by consuming the life essence of others.
He couldn't fathom his master's insatiable hunger for power. Who would willingly host a lich's soul within themselves just for the sake of power? Sure, A-grade necromancy offered formidable abilities, but in his humble opinion, the price was far too steep.
“That Damien fellow is either a blood elf, or a vampire—both races with long life spans. If I can discover the secret to their regeneration, then I could keep this lich’s soul at bay forever. I would become an immortal god. Do you understand, Ben? Do you?”
“Y-yes, my lord.” Ben nodded nervously. In his humble opinion, his master was completely insane, but he dared not question the prince.
“I don’t like your tone, Ben,” Prince August said, causing the man to shudder.
“Please, my lord, it’s nothing to do with this conversation, just some other things on my mind…”
Prince August paused his pacing around the room and came to stand before Ben.
“No…” Ben whispered, “Please don’t.”
Prince August placed his hand on Ben's head. The skin on his hand peeled away to reveal rotting flesh and bone beneath. A black aura emanated from his skeletal hand as a soft green glow was drawn out of Ben, flowing up through August's arm.
Ben screamed and thrashed against August, but the prince's dull, dead eyes stared back with sheer contempt. Gradually, Ben's life essence was drained, leaving behind nothing but an empty husk.
As Ben's vitality flowed into him, August's flesh began to regenerate at a visible rate, squirming like green maggots. It was a horrifying sight, yet one to which August had long grown accustomed.
"Evelyn..." he murmured. At his call, a terrified maid emerged from the corner of the room. "Dispose of this body for me," he commanded. Evelyn bowed her head and dragged the lifeless husk away, her movements quick and obedient.
“Damien, Damien…oh Damien, why do you run from this prince?” August said with a wide grin that threatened to split his face in half as he left the room. The hunt had only just begun.
