Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

Trapped.

That was all Azrael could think. He was stuck in a circle of fire. The heat burned his skin and smoke made his eyes sting.

Lyra, the Headmaster's niece, stood across from him smiling cruelly. She moved like a cat, and he felt like a trapped mouse.

"What's wrong, Lord Ashveil?" she said, her voice teasing. "No place to run."

She flicked her wrist and another whip of fire lashed out forcing him to stumble back. He was losing. Pathetically.

All he could do was use Stalling Edge to desperately block and dodge delaying the inevitable moment when his stamina would give out.

Across the clearing a true battle between monsters was raging. Selvara and Orion were a storm of ice and lightning.

Orion was fast like lightning. He moved in quick flashes, his sword hitting hard.

But Selvara matched him perfectly. The ice under her feet made it hard for him to move.

Every time he attacked a hard wall of ice blocked him.

"Come on, sparkler!" Selvara said, her voice cold but excited. "Is that all you've got?"

She glided across the ice a queen in her frozen domain. She wasn't just defending; she was attacking. Shards of ice sharp as daggers shot from the ground forcing Orion to constantly be on the move. She was winning. She was enjoying it.

Orion grit his teeth, frustration clear on his face. He was one of the strongest third-years, a genius with a rare lightning affinity. But Selvara was on another level.

He honored the battle, pushing his Aether to its limits. He knew he was about to be defeated. But just as Selvara prepared a final decisive blow, a new voice shouted from the trees.

"Orion, we're here!"

The battlefield changed in an instant.

The third-year knight who had defeated Zeyric charged into the clearing his massive shield held high. At the same time the two second-years who had taken out Liam the shield-bearer and the swordsman emerged from the other side.

They regrouped around Orion, forming a tight practiced formation.

Selvara's attack was blocked by the shield knight the impact echoed with a loud thud.

The swordsman came at her from the side, forcing her to abandon her attack on Orion and defend herself.

Now, it was four against one.

"Looks like the odds have changed, Selvara," Orion said, a grim smile on his face.

Selvara's smile got a little bigger. "Good. I was getting bored."

But she wasn't really showing off. It was just to trick them.

The four of them worked well together. Orion was the fast and a strong attacker. The third-year knight was a solid wall and hard to get past. The shield-bearer covered the sides and the swordsman waited for a chance to hit.

Selvara was a monster but she was still just one person.

She created a dome of ice around herself but the combined attacks of Orion and the other knight shattered it in seconds.

She had to step back her movements was getting sloppy. A lightning bolt from Orion hit her arm leaving a burn mark on her sleeve.

She growled in pain and frustration. For the first time she was having trouble.

From behind a tree, Isolde watched quietly, her eyes cold and sharp.

'This is bad,' she thought. 'Selvara is our strongest. If she goes down, we lose.'

She saw the coordinated attack, the way the enemy team worked together flawlessly. They were a real team. Her team was a collection of egos.

'But egos can help,' she thought, a plan forming in her sharp mind.

She stepped out from behind the tree. She didn't shout or rush. She just walked onto the battlefield, calm in the middle of the chaos.

"My, my," she said, her voice carrying over the fight. "Four boys picking on one girl? That doesn't seem very brave."

The four of them turned to look at her their attacks faltering for a split second.

"Stay out of this, Princess!" Orion shouted. "This is a real fight!"

"Oh, I know," Isolde said, her smile never leaving her face. "That's why I decided to join."

She raised a single delicate hand. The wind began to pick up. Not a gentle breeze but a howling gale that kicked up dirt and leaves obscuring everyone's vision.

It wasn't a powerful or destructive spell. It was a smart one. A spell designed to cause chaos and confusion.

"What is this?" the enemy swordsman yelled, shielding his eyes.

In that moment, Isolde moved. She dashed forward in a flash of white and platinum, appearing beside Selvara, who was breathing hard, a small cut on her lip.

"Need a hand, senior?" Isolde asked softly.

Selvara just glared. "I've got it."

"Of course you do," Isolde said, her eyes sparkling.

While the main battle raged, Seraphina was locked in her own fight. She was facing the other third-year from Orion's team, a powerful warrior with an earth affinity.

He was strong and his defense was solid but Seraphina was a heroine.

"You're finished!" the third-year shouted pounding the ground. A wall of rock shot up aiming to crush her.

Seraphina didn't even flinch. She stomped her foot and a wave of sharp crystal burst from the ground smashing the rock wall and sending him stumbling back.

She didn't give him a chance. The crystal wrapped around his legs, then his arms, trapping him completely.

He struggled for a moment then sighed in defeat and crushed his pendant. He vanished.

"One down," she muttered turning to see the absolute chaos of the other fights.

And then there was Azrael.

He was still trapped in Lyra's ring of fire his world reduced to a circle of heat and pain. He was losing. Badly.

His Stalling Edge was all that kept him alive. He blocked a whip of fire, his arm jolting from the hit. He dodged a fireball, feeling the heat burn his neck.

He felt like a puppet, and she was enjoying every pull of the strings.

This is useless, he thought, his lungs burning from the smoke. I can't fight back. I can't get close. I can't do anything.

He was just a punching bag. A source of entertainment.

He risked a look at the main fight. Isolde and Selvara were back-to-back taking on four opponents. Seraphina was rushing to help. Everyone else was fighting and he was useless.

"Watching others fight, senior?" Lyra's voice purred behind him.

He spun, but it was too late. A fire-wrapped fist hit his stomach. Pain shot through him. His pendant glowed bright white.

The last thing he saw before everything went black was Lyra's smiling, victorious face.