Blessed to be the Villain

Bathump. Ba-dham.

Ethan could feel his heartbeat pounding like a war drum in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins like molten fire. His hands trembled, but he gripped the sword tighter—knuckles white, sweat dripping. It wasn't just determination fueling his grip; it was survival. His life depended on it. And he knew that. God, he knew that.

The Shadowalker froze momentarily, its form quivering with dark, sinewy energy. Then—like a switch had been flipped—it lunged forward, claws outstretched and gleaming, slashing through the air with deadly intent.

It was just like before.

The beast—a nightmarish blur of shadow and muscle—was bearing down on him. Its jagged claws, wicked and curved, looked ready to shred him to pieces. Last time, he stood frozen, paralyzed. But not this time. No. This time, he moved.

With a single breath and a focused thought, Ethan activated Flash Steps.

Fwoosh.

Time bent. His body surged forward in an instant. His perception sharpened, sped up—everything else slowed. The world around him crawled as if caught in thick syrup.

He saw the claws slice toward his torso, aiming for his ribs. Reflexively, he twisted, launching himself to the right. One step. Two steps.

His boots skidded across the uneven forest floor, kicking up leaves and damp earth. The smell of moss and rot hit his nose, grounding him. He glanced back—where he had just been, the claws now sliced nothing but air.

The beast's head turned slowly, unnaturally, following his movement. Its glowing eyes narrowed in confusion. For a moment, it looked almost... puzzled.

But then the world snapped back to real time.

Ethan's breath caught as he stumbled. His footing failed on a twisted root, his shoulder slammed into a tree trunk. Bark scraped his skin, but he recovered, pushing himself up with trained precision. He had been falling so often lately, it was starting to feel... normal. His body responded on instinct now.

He rose—breath ragged, chest heaving—and turned to face the beast.

The Shadowalker stared at him from across the clearing, its breathing slow and steady, chest rising and falling in sync with Ethan's own panicked inhales. The two stood there for a heartbeat. Then another.

Both frozen.

Stunned.

Disbelieving.

The beast tilted its head, as if doubting what it had just seen—doubting reality itself.

Ethan-2 mirrored the expression. Eyes wide, lips parted, his mind struggling to catch up with what just happened.

"I... I dodged it?"

His body shook—his arms, his knees—even his fingertips trembled uncontrollably. But it wasn't fear that caused it.

It was excitement.

Raw, electric, unfiltered.

For the first time, he had done something. Something real. And maybe—just maybe—he could pass this trial that Arthur had set for him.

That flicker of hope sparked confidence deep inside him.

The Shadowalker growled. It was a low, angry sound—like a volcano preparing to erupt. It could feel Ethan's confidence, and it hated it. Its lips curled, revealing rows of jagged fangs. Its muscles coiled.

It charged again.

Faster. Angrier.

Deadlier.

Ethan clenched his jaw. His eyes sharpened. He didn't back down.

Not this time.

He activated Flash Steps once more, the rush of power enveloping him. The wind screamed past his ears. The world again slowed to a crawl.

As they closed in, he saw it. The beast leaned left. Its left paw swung at him like a wrecking ball. He moved to dodge to the right—fast, certain.

But just then, the beast shifted its weight. It was a feint.

Its right paw came down—hard.

Ethan's eyes widened.

"Shit."

It was too fast. Too close.

He clenched his teeth, remembered how Arthur had taught him to move using mana—not just instinct, but intent. He concentrated, pouring everything into movement. His body jerked sideways, barely managing to twist out of the path.

But not fully.

A claw raked across his chest.

RIIIIP.

Agony.

A hot, burning pain exploded through his torso. It felt like fire-dipped needles were driven into his bones, dragging across his ribs. Three distinct gashes split open across his chest—bone-deep.

He stumbled, his vision blurred, but he kept running. The forest spun. His knees buckled.

He collapsed to the ground.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" he screamed, gripping his chest as blood streamed from the wounds, warm and wet against his trembling fingers. "This hurts. This—this really hurts."

The beast raised its head, licking its bloodied claws slowly, mockingly. Its eyes glinted in the sunlight, and it looked down at him with derision, like a predator amused by a mouse still trying to crawl away.

Ethan winced, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, pain burning hot and furious through him. His fingers dug into the earth, nails filled with dirt and broken leaves.

He looked up at the beast.

And something inside him... shifted.

He was angry.

And scared.

He didn't want to die.

Not like this. Not here.

He wanted to live. To go home. To see his family again. His vision flickered, breath labored. Blood loss made his thoughts swim.

Then—

{"Great host,"} the system's voice echoed calmly in his mind, {"you've dodged two of its attacks. One more time... and your test is complete."}

The words cut through the haze like a blade.

"Easy for you to say," Ethan thought bitterly. "You're not the one getting torn open by this monster."

{"Yeah, well, I'm not the one trying to escape a curse that'll kill him in three weeks, either. So... come on, host. Do your best. And try not to die. One more time. You can do it."}

Ethan groaned, pulling himself to his knees.

"If I survive this, I swear to God I'm uninstalling you."

{"...."}

Pain flared in his chest again, but the voice had given him focus. The dull roar in his head dimmed. The noise faded. He focused on the Shadowalker again. Its posture had changed. It wasn't attacking.

It was watching.

Waiting.

Playing.

Like a cat toying with a mouse.

That look in its eyes—it was familiar. Ethan had seen it before.

He saw it in Lara's eyes when she burned him.

In Commander Ralph's eyes when he spoke with fake courtesy.

In the guards' eyes as they laughed behind his back.

In the mayor's eyes, when he lied through his teeth and tried to manipulate him.

All of them looked at him the same way.

Like he didn't matter.

Like he was something to step on, to use, to throw away.

His fists clenched.

And something inside him ignited.

Resentment.

Frustration.

Fury.

His chest rose with ragged breaths. He could feel it—his blood was boiling. Every nerve screamed, every muscle trembled, but it wasn't just from pain anymore. It was from something else.

A rage he didn't know he had.

A heat—searing, violent, untamable.

"I didn't ask for any of this," he thought, vision trembling. "I didn't ask to be brought to this world. I didn't ask to commit a crime I can't forgive myself for. I didn't ask to fight monsters. I didn't ask to be betrayed. Manipulated. Broken. I just..."

"I just want to go home."

His hands started glowing.

Not literal flames—but power. His mana flared, wild and brilliant. The air around him warped with power. His blade, simmered slightly.

The beast blinked.

Its muscles tensed.

It stepped back.

Something in Ethan's presence had changed.

On a branch high above the clearing, Arthur narrowed his eyes. He watched silently as Ethan stood—bloody, trembling, yet radiant with fury. His expression tightened. He could feel it.

A familiar pressure.

A rare one.

"Is that...?" Arthur whispered.

A smile tugged at his lips.

"Huh. This guy... could he... no... he really—"