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[Villain] Chapter 35: Playing in the Palm of His Hand
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 04:17:46 +0000 UTCDamien stood there with a calm expression.
This sure is a lot of people. I feel like some sort of celebrity. He clenched his hand, hidden in his pocket. Having spent most of his life in a hospital bed, he’d never experienced anything like this before. His gaze swept over the crowd. The life and energy of the place were all too real. Hundreds, even thousands, looked down upon him with varying expressions. Judging him for actions that the past owner of this body committed yet continued to haunt him to this very day.
He did not care for their judgment. As a [Fated Villain], this was his destiny. To stand alone against the world. There was nothing else to do, than crush anyone who stood in his way of living a peaceful life.
Although Damien showed no external change in expression, the resolve in his eyes flared up once again. A raging fire that threatened to crush the pathetic Head Professor, the only obstacle between Damien and the position in the Mage Tower that would save him from certain death.
I came to this forsaken world, isolated and destined for failure, like some kind of sick joke by the gods after I was betrayed. This will be my first step in abandoning that cursed fate and walking along my own path. This duel is no small matter. Failure is not an option. Without the protection of the Mage Tower, my future here in Kassinki is looking grim indeed.
Damien looked up toward the VIP area embedded in the northern side of the arena. Looking down upon the world with an amused expression was none other than Prince August. The true villain of this storyline, in his eternal greed for immortality and endless power, he would destroy all that surrounds and supports him, including the very kingdom that Damien had recently become a duke of. Damien shook his head in despair. Why couldn’t he have been reincarnated in Oshal instead? That way, he wouldn’t need to deal with this final boss.
Looking around the arena, Damien grappled with conflicting thoughts. He had stood in this very spot hundreds of times before; he was a veteran of the game, after all. Yet he had never noticed the crowd. They were mere background jpegs with a soundtrack playing on a loop. Nothing noteworthy, but now…Damien could only steel his mind. The pressure of thousands of scorn-filled eyes was quite overwhelming. He felt his usual calm falter under their intense gazes. Deciding to tune it all out and focus on his opponent, he looked over at Victor, who appeared to be in an even direr state. He was constantly twitching and shifting his focus between the VIP room and Damien. As if it were a tick, he kept patting the inner pocket of his suit jacket, a complicated expression plastered on his sickly face.
The announcer’s voice then boomed out across the arena and patiently explained the stakes and the rules of the duel. The hateful gazes increased tenfold after the mention of Damien cheating his way into his position. He could only sigh deeply in his heart. Whether he won or lost this duel, his reputation would likely never recover, not that he minded. He was a villain through and through and had no plans to right his past wrongs even though they weren’t committed by him personally.
While the announcer explained the rules, Damien thought, This is it. A real magic battle with my life on the line. The announcer claims it’s not a death match, but I’m not fool. Victor is a dead man with nothing left to lose. The question is if he can kill me.
“May the duel begin!” the announcer exclaimed, and the crowd roared in anticipation.
Damien stood perfectly still and did nothing. I have the advantage in the early stage of this dance, my cards are unknown, whereas I can read Victor like an open book. As Damien expected, Victor quickly multicast defensive spells of various types. First, he surrounded himself in a quickly made mud hut surrounded by spikes. A solid defense strategy against Spatial and Wind schools of magic. Damien mused. I shall keep my affinities hidden as long as possible. Besides, I have the advantage as his illness has shrunk his mana pool so wasted defensive spells like this are perfect.
Victor hid inside his mud hut for a few moments, noticing that Damien didn’t teleport and stab him in the back, nor did he unleash a barrage of wind blades. He concluded that Damien was unlikely to use either affinity, so he promptly proceeded to the second stage of his plan.
The earth opened up beneath his figure, and he vanished into the dark depths of the ground below. “A little rat like you only knows how to run and hide?” Damien clicked his tongue. “Tsk, if I had Water affinity, I could drown him inside his tunnels, but alas I have no such talents.”
Damien finally made his first move of the duel. Activating psychokinesis, he formed a bubble around himself and pushed the spell into the earth at a depth of two meters. The earth was saturated in Victor’s mana, which actually worked against him. It helped Damien locate him.
Unaware of Damien’s ability to track him, Victor was using geokinesis to swim through the soil at high speeds, cautiously trying to work out his opponent’s game plan. As Victor was also a veteran at magic battles, gathering intel on the opponent’s capabilities was of the utmost importance. Ignorance and arrogance were the most dangerous emotions for a mage to harbor, as even the most insurmountable mountain could be carved away by the river of time. Every school of magic had its strengths and weaknesses; no mage was omnipotent and all-powerful. Except maybe the dean—he was the closest figure to a demigod on this mortal plane.
Getting within a few meters of Damien, the Head Professor felt he had collided with an invisible wall. This wall rejected his Earth affinity mana wholeheartedly, impeding his advancement. “What a pathetic barrier. If I wasn’t so weakened, this level of mana control would be mere child’s play before me.” Victor cursed in a muffled voice.
Moving through the earth like a fish through water, he attempted to attack at varying angles but was met with the same obstacle time and time again. With frustration, he used a B-grade spell, which consumed a large portion of his mana. The earth around him became drenched with earth affinity mana, causing the earth to surge toward the surface with tremendous force.
The spectators all gasped as they watched the entire arena’s ground become overlaid in meter-tall spikes of stone, all within fleeting moments. As the dust settled, an unscathed and unbothered Damien stood upon one of the spikes.
Victor emerged from the ground, sure of his overwhelming victory, yet he was aghast as he witnessed Damien effortlessly balancing upon an impossibly small point. He squinted his eyes. Standing like that was simply impossible without magical assistance. The question was how?
The Head Professor’s brain whirled as it formulated the possibilities, and eventually he came to only a single conclusion: Psychic magic. Upon this discovery, he patted the green vial in his pocket with a smile of relief. “For a mere Psychic mage, even in this pathetic condition I will have no need for such a heinous drug,” he assured himself.
Noticing that Damien was utilizing one of the few advantages of Psychic magic- levitation- he opted to respond with his arsenal of artillery-type spells. Aware that spikes would have little to no effect on an opponent capable of standing in the air, Victor canceled the spikes, and the arena returned to its usual state.
Damien smirked and lowered himself back to the floor, sending a clear provocation to the professor, suggesting that his earth-based skills had no effect on him. Victor merely snorted, thinking, You are still wet behind the ears Damien, believing you can defeat me by flying around like an insect. As expected of a mere assistant. Let me give you a lesson on the gap between us.
Victor chanted the runic language at an inhuman speed, weaving multiple runic spell matrices together. They hung in the air before him and after a full minute, he combined them all with a single command.
“ᛋᚢᛗᛗᛟᚾ ᚷᛟᛚᛖᛗ (Summon Golem)”
His palms glowed with a deep blue as the ground trembled. Damien hadn’t bothered reacting as he already knew that the spell was a conjuring spell rather than a directly offensive one and, therefore, posed no immediate threat. He wished to remain stationary to conserve his mana as much as his opponent allowed.
Innumerable humanoid men of stone crawled from the earth with awkward movements befitting magically animated beings. Victor then gave them a mental command as they all collectively looked toward the unmoving Damien with their lifeless eye sockets.
Damien felt an immense sense of déjà vu. Was it his fate to face innumerable enemies all alone once more? Shaking away the useless thoughts that clouded his mind, he quickly ascended to the skies. Although he believed to have derived a plan on how to deal with this seemingly disadvantageous position, he would have to test his theory first.
That is, if the golems forming balls of rock as if they were in a snowball fight and hurling them in his direction would give him a moment to rest. Luckily, many of the projectiles didn’t even reach the soles of his feet, but a few did reach his altitude.
“What a childish way to fight,” Damien sneered. With a casual wave of his hand, he effortlessly returned the rocks to the golems below using psychokinesis. The slow, dull pile of mud didn’t react to the incoming attack, causing many of them to lose a limb.
The audience was in an uproar. Some agitated commoners screamed that he was cheating and to fight like a man, and others were baffled at his unusual skill set as many had never seen a proficient Psychic mage engage in mortal combat before.
Although both Damien and Victor tried to control their expressions, beads of sweat and slight worry were hidden behind their well-trained facade. The number one rule for a mage competing in a duel was to never show any hint of weakness. Making the opponent believe there was no way of winning was the best and quickest way to victory, yet experienced mages could see through this little trick.
Damien knew commanding that many golems at once was draining Victor’s mana at a substantial rate, but so was his own defense. He had to maintain air superiority to force Victor into using this mana-inefficient method of fighting. Unfortunately, maintaining his psychokinesis domain and levitation was costing him greatly. If Victor was still at A-grade in mana control, he would infuse the rocks the golems were hurling at him with mana protection, but due to his deteriorated state, just maintaining the golems was his limit. Controlling mana from so far away was simply impossible.
Victor hoped Damien’s mana control was at a lower tier than his own; a battle of attrition was always his forte and go-to strategy. Unfortunately, Victor had no way to determine the extent to which his A-grade mana control had deteriorated, as it was internal problems that held him back rather than his innate skill.
Psychic mages were famous for being easily overwhelmed; Victor had to acknowledge Damien’s ability to maintain flight while dodging and repelling hundreds of rocks at once. He personally had never witnessed a Psychic mage with so much control over his surroundings before.
Feeling a trickle of sweat run off his brow, Victor’s nerves once again spiked. Although he lied to himself that he was prepared for death, he still was unwilling. He wholeheartedly believed he could defeat Damien with his own deteriorated skills and somehow get away with murdering a noble on stage in front of thousands. He just had to stage it as an accident somehow. But Damien was far more competent than he was expecting, making such a scheme unlikely to work.
Maybe Prince August would break him out of prison before his execution, allowing him to run away and live happily with Evelyn like before, but a part of him knew that was only wishful thinking. His mana circuit was already rotting away and barely holding on. Victor noticed out of the corner of his eye that his defeated golems were no longer standing back up.
He took a nervous look at the man in the sky who had maintained the same bored expression since the beginning of the fight. Apart from the slight sweat on his brow, Damien showed no sign of obvious weakness. Victor refused to fall for the man’s tricks. Just a little more…and he would fall from the sky.
Victor pressed on with the assault, yet as the seconds ticked by and his reserves ran dangerously low, Damien was still the same. Victor cursed under his breath for being impatient; he believed he could end the fight quickly with that B-grade spell. Alas, it had only been a massive waste of resources.
His shaking hand tapped upon his suit pocket once again. The feeling of the cold glass vial against his shirt only brought more anguish to his blackened heart. Would he really have to leave this world as a monster? How would Evelyn view him?
***
Within the VIP box, an agitated prince paced back and forth, occasionally glancing down at Victor, causing his frown to deepen. “What is that disobedient man doing?” he cursed. “Drink the darn vial and be done with it, you fool.”
He spun on his heel, faced the arena, and spoke with disdain. “I refuse to make such an effort to get Damien the role at the Mage Tower should he win.”
Seeing the fire of life being ignited in Victor’s previously lifeless eyes, August’s expression turned icy. “It seems his heart is filled with delusions… Bring her in,” he said to seemingly nobody, yet the door opened a second later, and a confused and timid maid walked in.
“Evelyn, come, witness your father’s foolish last stand. His pride and ego have consumed him.”
“F-father? My father is here?” she asked in an apprehensive tone. All contact between herself and her dear father had been severed years ago. The prince forbade her from leaving his sight.
The prince casually gestured toward the arena below. “See for yourself, although it’s a rather pathetic sight that I am certain he wouldn’t wish for you to witness.”
Evelyn timidly walked to the edge and leaned over. She felt the stares of many spectators on her, but she prevailed; her dear father was apparently here. Soon, she spotted a deathly pale man that somewhat resembled the father in her memory, but he seemed to have lost a lot of weight.
With shock she didn’t think twice and shouted out, “Father, it’s me!” The barrage of attacks stopped for a moment as the decrepit man turned his sunken yet fierce eyes toward his daughter. Unknown to Evelyn, Prince August was shadowing behind her and making a cut-throat action for Victor to see.
“Evelyn—” Victor’s shoulders sagged with defeat. His body was in extreme pain; he knew he had pushed his limits too far today. Taking one final look at Evelyn’s heartbroken and worried face, he said some final words. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. I failed you and Anna.” His many golems crumbled to dust as he lost concentration and the will to move forward.
Damien didn’t waste a single second and dived down toward Victor. With a well-placed knee to the face, Victor’s nose burst from the impact as he tumbled back a few meters.
“No, no, no! Dad, don’t give up! Keep fighting!” Evelyn shouted while holding back tears. “Let’s go see the spirit blossoms together this summer, like good old times!” Her voice broke down as she collapsed against the VIP room’s railing.
“He’s already dead, Evelyn,” Damien said calmly, and the Head Professor didn’t refute him. “I’m sorry, but this is the only way.”
“Stop it!” Evelyn screamed as she watched Damien empower his punches with Psychic magic and brutally smacked her father around like a rag doll. The stadium was dead silent; just the sobbing of Evelyn and the sound of cracking bones could be heard.
Damien placed his foot upon Victor’s mangled body, “Surrender, and this will be over.”
Victor turned his head with great effort to stare into Damien’s bloodthirsty eyes, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he muttered with disdain, “King Yama is calling. The gates of hell welcome us both.”
“Don’t do it,” Damien said, his voice as cold as cie.
Ignoring his warning, the Head Professor retrieved the vial with his barely functioning arm; it was surprisingly still intact, a testament to the quality of glass used to contain the ominous green liquid inside.
He popped the cork and brought the vial to his mouth, yet a foot promptly descended and crushed his hand. The green liquid boiled viciously as it made contact with the outside world. Most of the liquid spilled on the ground around Victor, but a few drops made contact with his hand.
The liquid entered through his pores like snakes, causing Victor to scream in anguish. His hand became a gray wiggling mass of something unknown to the residents of this world. A creature from the beyond.
Damien sighed. “Do you take me for a fool? Did you think I would just stand here and let you drink a vial of devil tears? Are you trying to destroy this arena and everyone within it?”
Seeing victory in sight, Damien turned toward the VIP area. “Prince August, I do believe this classifies as a victory, yes? He is using illegal substances in a duel.”
Damien expected to see an annoyed expression on August’s face, but contrary to his expectations, he had a mocking smile.
August gestured toward Victor, “Are you sure?” While everyone was misdirected toward Victor, August cast a spell with a small wave of his hand, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, and Victor’s body suddenly shuddered.
Damien knew what August had done, but nobody else seemed to have caught his use of magic in the middle of a duel. The deplorable acts of a true villain. At least have a little class to not interfere in a duel with magic. He looked down at Victor's body, which had gone limp. Medics were rushing over, but he knew what had happened already.
August had killed the Head Professor.
As expected, the arena exploded with commotion. “Murder! He killed him!” Damien noticed a person exclaim as he stood up. If one looked closely, there was a small skull tattoo on his wrist, signifying he was one of Prince August’s men.
Damien shook his head, “The Head Professor was using illegal substances—” Yet his words were drowned out by the shouts of bloody murder from the spectators.
I can’t believe I feel for the Prince’s trap so easily. If I had let the Head Professor consume the devil's tears, I would have been mauled to death. But by calling it out, I forced the Prince to act and end the duel himself—an outcome I failed to account for.
After a while, the Prince declared to the area with a knowing smile. “The duel has been nullified due to the death of Head Professor Victor. Damien Karles will not receive the promotion to Head Librarian of the Mage Tower. Yet, due to the Head Professor’s passing, Damien will be promoted from Assistant Professor to the honorable position of Head Professor. That is all.”
Only the Mage Tower has the resources and protection I require to survive the assassination attempts from my brother. While the position of Head Professor would usually be good, it’s far too suspicious that Prince August has granted me the role when he could have me stripped of my dukedom or worse due to murder. He definitely wants to keep me chained to the university where he has power so he can keep me under surveillance. With that in mind, I’m left with only one option.
Damien clenched his fist but then relaxed. With the entire world seemingly against him and his back against the wall, there was only one way to beat a rigged game, and that was not to play.
“Prince August, while I appreciate the offer, I refuse the promotion. I don’t require your handouts,” Damien exclaimed loudly before calmly turning on his heel and leaving, ignoring the suddenly silent arena and Prince August’s enraged face.
“I’ll carve my own path in this world—one step at a time. The life of a fated villain was never supposed to be easy,” Damien muttered with newfound determination. There was no way for him to become the final boss while playing in the palm of another.
Comments
Sam
Thanks for the chapter! Cie -> ice
