Reborn as the Fated Villain

Roselyn carefully manipulated a vine around a young woman's arm. Although a thousand meters of rock and mud separated the two, Rose could feel the woman's warmth, heartbeat, and nervousness.

Making sure to be careful, Rose directed the vine like a coiling snake around the woman's wrist. A tiny thorn pricked her skin, causing the woman to yelp. The procedure was quick and mostly painless.

A slight sense of euphoria invaded Rose's mind as blood trickled down the vine and into her body. With the transaction completed, she sent a small burst of healing magic to seal the wound on the woman's arm.

With life energy coursing through Rose's veins, she directed half of it to herself. As a result, she felt a slight improvement in her mana pool and her overall wellbeing.

The woman pushed the vines off her wrist, inspected the lack of a wound, and quickly walked through Blackthorn's gate toward the marquess's knights' camp.

Many women from Blackthorn have been spending the night in the knights' camp. Pay must be good. Rose pushed these useless thoughts aside as she directed the remaining life energy to the fields surrounding Blackthorn. The pulse of life was insignificant, but there was progress. The muddy fields devoid of nutrients had slowly transformed into more fertile lands.

A thousand hungry knights produce a surprising amount of waste…not to mention that mythical beast that pulls the marquess's moving fortress. Is this what all mages are cursed by? The abundance of knowledge? I wonder how Sir Damien deals with knowing everything. There are some things I wish I never knew.

Rose wasn't entirely sure what her exact role in Blackthorn was, but she knew it was important—enough that Damien had fulfilled his part of their deal. A few days earlier, he had also told her that a new client had surfaced and that payday was on the horizon. Honestly, she felt on top of the world… though, technically, she was alone in a cave beneath the surface. Still, it was the sentiment that mattered.

Her vines spread deep and wide throughout Blackthorn. The new stone roads impeded most of her coverage, but she could see outside the walls. Rose's main job was collecting blood from those entering or leaving Blackthorn as a tax and then redirecting that life force to the fields.

It was monotonous work, but she rather enjoyed the rush of power she felt every time she absorbed someone's blood. So this is how vampires accumulate power, from harvesting the living like livestock. Am I immortal like Damien now? I sure hope so; this method of gaining power is painfully slow. It's been days, and I have sucked blood from hundreds of people, yet my powers are barely at C-grade.

Rose's thoughts were interrupted as she felt an Overseer near Blackthorn's gate reach down and direct her vine around a knight's wrist. The man had taken off his gauntlet and eyed Rose's pitch-black vine with caution. The Overseer and knight exchanged a few words before the knight gave in to the blood tax. The power the knight gave Rose was incomparable to the commoner girl before; the mana was far more dense and delicious.

From the rumors I've heard, the knights have been surprisingly well behaved. At least after a few were executed on the second day for raping and fighting with some residents. Blackthorn has always been a rough place, but a commoner from the fields has no chance against a fully trained knight. The knight wobbled slightly from the taken blood and scowled as he pushed the vines off. Your vitality will pay for your comrade's sins.

Rose often found herself lost in her own thoughts. They distracted her from the constant mumbling of the necromancer in the back of her head. Luckily, the necromancer's annoying comments and temptations only manifested while she was plugged into the network of vines.

How long have I been plugged in, anyways? Hours? Days? It's hard to tell; my perception of time is warped, and only the passing warmth of the sun on my exposed vines gives me any perspective.

Pain shot through Rose's system, jolting her focus outside the walls. Ouch! These little bastards again! She cursed as she directed one of her arachnid undead to dispatch the creature.

The gremlin seemed captivated by the vine; Rose could only watch in annoyance as the little brown-and-white-furred creature tugged at it with surprising force as if trying to drag her out of the ground.

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Why do they do that? It felt like something was tugging at her hair, unpleasant but not life-threatening. There are a few other monsters around Blackthorn, but they are all weak. I heard Kassinki was attacked by a flock of wyverns, yet it seems disturbingly quiet out here.

A trap door opened from a secret shack, and an undead spider crawled out. The Overseers on the walls paid little attention as it vaulted over and sped across the open fields toward its mistress's enemy.

The gremlin yelped as it noticed the gigantic spider rapidly approaching. The two-legged creature turned to run, but the lifeless vine suddenly moved and coiled around its leg. The little monster pummeled the vine with its stubby hands in a fit of rage, yet the vine only tightened its grip.

Its life ceased as a meter-long spike of bone impaled it through the chest.

As Rose directed the vine to absorb the blood remaining in the gremlin's corpse, she debated trying to raise the little guy as an undead. Or is that the voice in my head telling me to? It's hard to know what thoughts are my own or the necromancer's…

***

Thar grabbed a few berries from his pocket and placed them before his furry friend. The creature that often perched on his shoulder was busy helping him with his experiments. Damien had enlightened him about a central banking system with these things called credit cards. The concept was indeed genius but also complicated.

"Twit," Thar said, and the creature turned its head. A metallic card similar to Damien's sat in its mouth. "Transfer me a gold coin."

Thar brought his card and made contact with Twit's. The two cards glowed, yet nothing happened. Thar frowned and debated the issue, turning the card under the cave light.

"Whatcha doing?" A curious feminine voice brushed his ear.

Surprised, Thar almost jolted out of his seat. "Holy shit, Roselyn! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, sorry, haha. You just get too focused sometimes; I've been calling you for over a minute now!"

Thar scratched the back of his neck. "Ha… Sorry about that. What do you need my assistance with?"

"Plug me in."

Thar shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Are you sure? Isn't it terrifying? You don't have to push yourself so hard…"

Rose smiled; her calm brown eyes healed Thar's worried soul. "I want to plug in again, just this once."

"All right," Thar said dejectedly, deciding that arguing with a death mage was a bad idea. "Lead the way." He lovingly watched Roselyn skip through the tunnel toward her chamber; their workstations lay right beside one another in the depths of Blackthorn's caves. "Hey, Roselyn."

"Hmmm?" she replied while tilting her head over her shoulder, meeting the half-orc's curious eyes.

"Why did you pick me? Wouldn't Damien be a far better match for you?"

Rose paused mid-stride; the abrupt halt caused Thar to stop beside her.

The two stood there in awkward silence; Rose seemed stunned but, after a moment, resumed her walk, although now with less enthusiasm in her step. "When an ant gazes upon us, Thar, what does it see?"

Thar rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Two titans?"

Rose nodded. "Two titans. Two faceless titans. In their tiny, uneducated minds, we are the same. It doesn't matter that I'm a girl or you're a half-orc; we could crush them underfoot all the same."

Thar nodded. "So?"

Rose cleared her throat as they entered her expansive cavern. "I was like an ant. I thought I could fathom the difference between mages, but I was merely a frog in a well, an ant in the mud. I had my delusions, my dreams. I wanted to not only stand beside Damien as his aide but maybe even as an equal. Someone he could depend on. That way, he would never cast me aside…"

Thar's eyes widened as he understood her meaning. "And then you saw it."

Rose grunted as she climbed onto the bed placed near the mass of Wiggles. "And then I saw it. If I consider myself a mere flickering flame in the wind, how can I stand beside the sun?"

Rose shook her head and clenched her hands. "Damien is no mere mage, nor vampire. I can tell. He is the definition of the apex being, and I have no right to hold him back. His body practically radiates vitality combined with the intricate network of four magic circuits. Ridiculous. I thank the stars above that I listened to Randy and took this job."

Rose grinned and pointed toward the lone vine hanging beside her bed. "Now plug me in, darn it. I got an undead army to build!"

Thar chuckled as he walked over. "I'll pull you out in ten minutes."

The vine connected. Roselyn's eyes turned abyssal black, and that ancient voice screamed once more, "HahAHaHAhAhA." Rose's body jolted back as it cackled; her veins turned black as the vine invaded her mana circuit.

Thar hugged Rose's body on the bed as she trashed around and scratched at Thar's skin, scraping chunks out of his cheek with every swipe. A single tear fell from Thar's eye as he mumbled, "Madness is but an illusion of your mind, Rose. Fight it. You can win. I know you can."