Reborn as the Fated Villain

A middle-aged man leaned against a tree while taking deep breaths.

"Ugh, my mana reserves…I can't hold on much longer…"

His name was Alan, and his master had ordered him to turn people from a farming village nearby into ghouls.

Killing an entire village was surprisingly easy. He just released a low-level curse into the water well and waited a few days, everyone started dying, and he just walked around and finished them off with a simple stab of his dagger. He felt no remorse; it was their fault for being weak. After turning the woman and men into ghouls, he killed all the annoying little kids, since they made weak ghouls and would only drain his mana reserves.

He then disguised them all in cheap black cloaks and marched the horde toward this location. It was difficult getting well-paid jobs as a necromancer, so this was a once-in-a-year opportunity. If he managed to eliminate the noble that was being escorted, he would be paid one platinum! That was a hundred gold coins. How could he turn down such a sweet deal?

Due to necromancy being so illegal across the continent, Alan had found it incredibly difficult to train up his skills. Because of this, he had been stuck at the B-grade for a long time despite his efforts. All he could do was summon weak undead, control them from a distance, and do some basic curses and debuff spells.

Despite his low mana reserves, he grinned as he watched the noble finally leave the safety of that weird carriage. He had never seen one so robust before and was worried the noble would let all his knights perish and just sit inside. If the noble had done that, then his mana reserves would have run dry, and he would have lost control over all the undead.

He would then need to retreat as the ghouls became ownerless and attacked every living being, including him. Luckily, the foolish noble finally left his little safety box to confront his mighty horde of undead.

By sharing his vision with his ghouls, he watched the noble up close. He had to admit the noble was quite frightening to look at; he even had a creepy grin and blood dripping from his mouth. Was that some peculiar fetish he had?

His connection to the undead weakened due to the noble's aura and his own lack of mana, but he managed to send one last order to his ghouls. "Kill that man!"

A hundred ghouls all converged upon the dumb noble's location, and he just stood there with his stupid grin.

He then turned to look in his direction.

Alan shivered. He could feel the nobles gaze from this far away?

I need to get out of here.

But that thought came too late. The noble quickly closed the gap. Alan had no idea how he figured out his location, but he scrambled farther into the woods.

Get away from me! Ghouls stop him!

His ghouls eventually formed a circle around the noble, halting his advance. Alan slid into the mud and hid behind a fallen log to observe from a distance while his heart pounded in his ears. His mana had run out, preventing him from seeing through his undead's eyes. All he could perceive was the mob of ghouls gathered in one location due to their mana.

"Hahaha, die, you stupid bastard," Alan hissed through his teeth with contempt. If the noble had just a little more sense, he would have stayed inside his little carriage. "This is what you get for acting heroic and trying to save others. What a fool—"

Suddenly, an immense aura shot out from the mob of ghouls, and Alan watched as Damien rose into the air. While he should have been scared from such a sight, he only felt relief. While this man was a mage, he was the weakest kind.

Levitation?! That means this foolish noble is nothing more than a psychic mage without any guards!

Stolen novel; please report.

"HAHAHA, COME TO DADDY!" Alan exclaimed, waving his dagger around. Even without mana, killing a lone Psychic mage was basic shit. Just run at them and stab them in the face. What could they do? Talk him to death? Maybe pick him up and drop him from high up? Hah! Just waving a dagger in their face was enough to scare a Psychic mage.

The only people who became Psychic mages were weak mages who were scared of real combat and would rather be employed by nobles and sit safely inside their houses. They were nothing but a glorious form of communication. Fucking pansies, the lot of them.

Alan loved the thrill of fighting and the screams of despair from his enemies! How could he possibly accept that Psychic mages were even called mages? They were fucking weaklings.

He watched on with a large grin as the Psychic noble mage stood in the sky, looking composed and unfazed. Alan was tempted to wave at him but held back. He hid his dagger in his sleeve and waited.

The noble looked down on the world and then locked eyes with him. The gaze was still a bit intense. Alan had to admit he had never met such an intimidating Psychic mage before, but he was excited. He had thought this mission was going to be a failure, but his target was coming right to him.

The noble finally descended and landed a few meters away. He had a playful and relaxed smirk on his face.

"I know you."

Alan snorted, "Sure you do buddy—"

"Alan, B-grade Necromancer in service to the black council," he said casually.

"How do you…"

"How do I know?" the noble smiled eerily. "I know more than you could imagine."

Just who the hell is this guy?

Alan's confidence was shaken. Not even the other executives of the Black Council knew his name. How did this random noble, whom he had never met before, know his true name?

"I don't go by Alan. I threw that name away long ago! I'm going by Shade now."

The noble just nodded. "Shade, Alan, it's all the same to me."

"I said," Alan muttered through gritted teeth, "my name is Shade, not Alan."

"And my name is Damien. It's a pleasure to meet you." He seemed amused, and that irked Alan. "Now, what does a dead man want with me?"

Alan just grinned. "A duel to the death, is it? Well, what's your surname, pretty boy? I will remember it after I turn you into my pet ghoul."

"Nightshade."

"Eh?" Alan was completely bewildered. "Nightshade? I feel like I have heard that name before." He thought deeply, yet nothing came to mind.

Damien's eyes shone blood red as his black nails elongated into small daggers.

"Wait, are you…" Alan felt his breath freeze in his chest. "A real vampire?"

He looked down at his standard iron dagger. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

Everyone knew a silver coated weapon was needed to slay a vampire.

Alan turned to run, and he ran and ran, never stopping to look back. He could feel the vampire's gaze burrowing into his back.

After a few minutes, he crashed onto his face while deeply gasping for air. Both his mana and stamina reserves were bottomed out, and he felt like death. With great effort, he turned his head around and saw Damien casually floating behind him with a bored expression.

"Are you finally done running," he said with disappointment oozing from every syllable.

"But…I have a daughter. I need the money for her…please," Alan pleaded.

"Oh yes, I know you do."

"You believe me?" Alan was bewildered. He did indeed have a daughter who had an illness that he was trying to treat with the money he got from necromancy, but he never listened to any of his targets who said these same words.

"I just don't care." Damien said with indifference as if discussing the weather instead of his life or death.

Alan saw he was backed into a corner and burned his own life force to cast a final spell. His body burned as he drew mana from his muscles into mana circuit. Black mist shot out his palm and wrapped the area in a dense fog. Alan knew his dagger was unlikely to break through the vampire's skin, but maybe his eyes were a weak point?

He picked himself up with his last bit of willpower and circled around Damien, moving carefully to not give his position away. Damien just stood still and looked forward.

He's not making a move? Alan wondered. He had hoped he would fly away and give Alan time to escape, but instead, he just stood there and looked into the empty void. Almost as if he was bored.

Alan gathered his last bit of stamina and lunged through the fog with his dagger toward Damien's eye. However, an invisible force seemed to surround Damien, making it impossible to get close. The vampire slowly smiled and turned to look at him.

Huh? Alan screamed in his mind as he was suspended in midair a meter away from Damien. He was still in his lunge posture, just staying there.

Damien walked over with calm steps. His hands were ghost-like as he plunged his claws through his chest. Suddenly, he felt fingers caressing his heart.

The vampire grinned as he rematerialized his hand and ripped out Alan's heart in one swift motion. He then pried Alan's mouth open and forced his still-beating heart into his own mouth.

"I wonder if this would classify as some twisted form of modern art?" Damien mused while taking a step back and rubbing his chin.

Alan tried to scream as his world darkened, but he was unable to.

Damien turned and left without further comment, ignoring the sound of the dead man falling onto the cold forest floor.