Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

Kaelen stood over him. The tip of his sword was aimed right at Azrael's throat. The hero's face was filled with anger.

"No more talking," Kaelen growled, his voice quiet and full of hate. "No more tricks. This ends now."

'This is it,' Azrael thought, his body screaming in protest. The kick to his stomach had stolen all the air from his lungs. 'I'm done.'

He had no strength left to fight. He had no clever plans left to use. He was empty.

But as Kaelen raised his sword for the final blow, He saw the hero's stance.

The way his weight was all on his back foot, ready to put all his power into the downward thrust. It was a perfect, textbook finishing move. It was also a mistake.

'He thinks he's already won,' Azrael realized.

With the last bit of his will, Azrael's fingers twitched. A single, invisible thread, which he had attached to the hero's boot earlier in the fight, pulled tight.

It was not a strong pull. It was just a tiny tug. A little nudge.

Kaelen brought his sword down. But that tiny tug on his boot was enough to throw his perfect balance off by a single inch. His thrust was not straight. It was a little to the side.

The sword did not pierce Azrael's heart. It stabbed into the soft dirt right beside his head.

Thud.

The hero's eyes went wide with shock. He had missed.

Azrael did not waste the moment. He rolled, his body screaming in pain, and scrambled away. He pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaking, and put a few precious yards between them.

He stood there, gasping for air, one hand on his aching stomach. He was back in the fight. Barely.

Kaelen pulled his sword from the ground, his face red with a new wave of fury. "You…! Even now, you use your pathetic little tricks!"

"They seem to be working," Azrael managed to say, a weak smile on his face.

Across the clearing, the other fights were just as intense. The air between Seraphina and Elvara was thick with a heavy, sad energy.

"I almost feel sorry for you, Elvara," Seraphina's voice was sharp but laced with a strange pity. Sharp crystals were already forming in the ground around her feet.

Elvara's hands glowed with a soft, gentle light. She did not look angry. She just looked sad.

"Sorry for me?" she asked, "Why?"

"Because you fell for it," Seraphina snapped, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief. A spear of crystal shot up from the ground, driving straight toward Elvara's heart. "His act! After everything he did, a few nice words and a bag of gold, and you actually believe he's a different person?"

Elvara did not even move. A wall of pure, white light appeared in front of her, and the crystal spear shattered against it, breaking into a shower of dust.

"I don't know what I believe," Elvara said, "But I know what I saw. The monster we knew would never have fought his own sister for me. He would never have given me the gold to start a new life."

"He is using you!" Seraphina shouted, her anger making her attacks wilder. More crystal spears shot from the ground, and Elvara blocked them all with her walls of light. "Can't you see? It's a trick! A new way for him to play his sick games! He's making you his pawn to get to Kaelen, or maybe even me!"

"The Azrael I knew was not that smart," Elvara said, "He was cruel, yes, but he was also simple. This person… is different. I don't understand him. But I will not let you call me a fool for what I have seen with my own eyes."

Her words hit Seraphina like a physical blow. Her chest tightened with confusion. The Azrael she knew was selfish and cruel. He would never do something for someone else unless it helped him.

'Then… this must be helping him somehow,' Seraphina thought. 'He's manipulating her. He has to be.'

"Then you are lost!" Seraphina screamed. The ground around her exploded, a forest of sharp crystals rising from the ash. It was a beautiful and deadly attack.

Elvara just sighed. A single, bright star of light appeared above her head, and it pulsed with a gentle energy. The crystal forest stopped growing, its sharp edges softened by the warm light.

"You are so full of hate," Elvara said sadly. "You can't see the truth, even when it is right in front of you."

While the two heroines were locked in their emotional battle, Selvara was in a world of pure, physical pain.

Leon, Ronda, and Paul were a good team. A very good team.

Leon was a wall. His earth-covered skin and massive shield blocked every one of her ice attacks.

Clang! Thud!

Ronda was a storm. Her wind-powered spear was a constant threat, forcing Selvara to always be moving, always be on the defensive.

And Paul, the little first-year, was an annoying fly. His small fireballs were not strong enough to hurt her, but they were hot enough to melt her ice, ruining her traps and making the ground around her a wet, slippery mess.

"Is that all you have, Ice Witch?" Ronda taunted. A gust of wind pushed Selvara back, and Leon used the opening to charge, his shield held high.

Selvara was forced to create a thick wall of ice to block him. But Paul immediately shot a fireball at it, and a large crack appeared in the ice.

"You're not so tough when you're outnumbered, are you?" Leon roared with laughter.

Selvara grit her teeth. She was getting tired. She was getting angry.

'These children,' she thought, her eyes glowing with a dangerous, blue light. 'They think this is a game.'

She had been playing with them. Using her skill, her grace. But they did not respect her skill. They only respected brute force.

'Fine,' she thought, a cold, deadly smile on her face. 'If they want a monster, I will give them a monster.'

She stopped defending. She let Ronda's spear cut a shallow line on her arm. She let Leon's shield slam into her side, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her.

She just stood there and took the hits. Her three opponents stopped, confused by her strange behavior.

"What is she doing?" Paul asked, his voice trembling a little.

Selvara just looked at them, her smile growing wider. A black, cold energy started to pour out of her. The air around them grew heavy and cold. It started to snow. Not white, fluffy snow. Black snow.

"You wanted to see my power?" she whispered. "Here it is."

She raised her hand, and the ground exploded. Not with a wave of ice. With a blizzard. A chaotic, raging storm of black ice and razor-sharp wind.

It was not a skilled attack. It was pure, uncontrolled power.

"Look out!" Leon yelled, raising his shield.

But it was too late. Ronda, the wind user, was caught in the storm. The wind she controlled was torn apart by Selvara's stronger, colder magic. A thousand tiny shards of black ice cut through her clothes and skin.

She cried out in pain, and her pendant glowed. She vanished.

Paul was next. He tried to create a wall of fire to protect himself, but the black snow put it out in an instant. A single, large spear of black ice shot from the storm and hit him squarely in the chest.

Thud.

He was thrown backward, his eyes wide with shock, and his pendant teleported him away.

The blizzard died down as quickly as it had appeared. Selvara stood in the middle of the clearing, breathing heavily. Her face was pale, and there was a thin trickle of blood running from her lip. But she was smiling.

Leon was the only one left. He stood behind his shield, his rock-covered skin scratched and dented, but he was still standing. He looked at Selvara, his eyes full of a new kind of fear.

She was not just a strong fighter. She was a monster.

At the same time, Azrael was facing his own monster.

Kaelen's anger had turned into something else. Something colder. Something more dangerous.

A faint, golden aura started to glow around his body. It was subtle at first, just a shimmer in the air. But it was growing stronger with every passing second.

'Oh, no,' Azrael thought, his heart sinking. 'Battleborn Will.'

He had been so focused on his own tricks that he had forgotten about the hero's most broken skill. The longer Kaelen fought, the stronger he became.

"I am done playing your games, Azrael," Kaelen said, his voice low and steady. The golden aura around him flared, and he seemed to grow taller, more powerful.

He charged.

He was a blur. Faster than before. So much faster.

Azrael tried to dodge, but he was too slow. Kaelen's sword was a golden streak of light.

Clang!

Azrael blocked the blow, but the force of the impact was like being hit by a carriage. His sword was knocked from his hand, and he was sent flying backward.

He landed in a heap, his entire body screaming in pain.

He looked up, his vision blurry. Kaelen was walking towards him, his body glowing like the sun. He was a true hero, full of righteous power.

And Azrael was just a broken man, lying in the dirt, completely at his mercy.