Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

Kaelen lay in the sand his chest heaving also his ears ringing.

The crowd's voice reached him, but not the way it used to.

No cheers. No chants of his name.

Only whispers.

Gasps.

Disbelief.

He forced himself up on one elbow. Pain flared in his ribs, hot and sharp. His lip was split. His eyes burned from sweat and blood dripping into them.

When he managed to focus on the stands, what he saw crushed him harder than Azrael's blows.

Pity.

Shock.

Disgust.

They looked at him the way you'd look at a fallen idol.

The prodigy. The strongest, Kaelen Valerius, reduced to a boy beaten bloody in front of them all.

His stomach turned. His shame was worse than the pain in his body.

And standing above him was Azrael, lips stretched in a blood-stained grin.

The weakling.

The no-name.

The one he had mocked and humiliated, the one he had dismissed as worthless.

And now he was the one smiling down.

Kaelen clenched his teeth until they ached. 'No. No, I won't accept this. I am Kaelen Valerius. I am better. I do not lose.'

His eyes darted to the side. There his sword, half-buried in the dirt. Eternalcleaver.

Its golden edge pulsed faintly, almost waiting for him.

He scrambled, dragging himself across the sand until his hand wrapped around the hilt. The familiar weight steadied him, anchored him.

With a hoarse roar that barely sounded human, he pushed himself back to his feet. The fire of his pride burned through the agony.

He charged. His body screamed at him to stop, but his rage was louder.

He leapt, swinging Eternalcleaver down with everything he had.

The blade shone like a falling star, aimed to split Azrael in half.

Azrael didn't flinch.

Limit Break still coursed through him, his muscles trembling from the strain.

His mind felt sharp, clear - Limitless Comprehension mapped every line of Kaelen's strike, every flaw in the angle, every piece of desperation behind it.

'He hasn't learned anything.'

The holy blade came down. Azrael stepped half a pace to the side, his movement almost casual.

His gauntlet rose and met the sword with a soft tap, redirecting the power away.

The strike tore into the air, harmless.

Kaelen's eyes widened. His body stumbled from the force of his own missed blow.

Before he could recover, Azrael's right fist smashed into his face.

Crack.

Kaelen staggered sideways, blood spraying from his nose. His legs shook.

Azrael laughed not cold, not mocking but genuinely thrilled, like a predator who had found prey that still kicked.

"You never learn, do you? Swing harder, shout louder but brute force without brains is just desperation."

The crowd erupted in chaos.

Some gasped, others cheered, voices clashing together until it sounded like a storm.

Professors in the stands leaned forward, their eyes were sharp with worry.

Seraphina stood frozen. Her hands covered her mouth, her body trembling.

She knew Kaelen's strength. She knew better than anyone how high his potential soared.

Yet he was being beaten not just matched but crushed by someone the academy once called the weakest.

'Kaelen… how is this happening? How?' Her chest tightened as her thoughts spiraled.

Beside her, Elvara didn't blink. Her gaze never left Azrael.

Every strike, every grin, every twitch of his hand burned into her memory.

He wasn't just fighting he was enjoying it. Thriving in it.

But she knew this wasn't a sudden change. She'd seen it before. That same fire in him.

She remembered the fight with Sebastian. How every blow made him stronger. How he adapted, grew, refused to stop. And from that day onwards he never looked back his power grew more and more.

Her lips parted in a soft whisper. "He's growing so fast…"

The words barely left her throat, but Isolde, sitting close, tilted her head to listen.

"Yes," Isolde said, voice smooth and calm. "Growing so fast that even I might not be able to control him."

Elvara turned, brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Isolde smiled, her usual sweet mask back in place. "Nothing. Just my thoughts."

But inside, her real thoughts burned sharp and hungry.

'Azrael. You're proving me right again. You're not just training harder. You're not some tool to be shaped. You're something else. Dangerous. Unpredictable. And I want to see where it leads.'

Her playful face was gone for a second, her eyes like a predator's.

Back in the arena, Kaelen groaned and forced himself up once more.

His face was a swollen mess. Blood dripped freely. His arms trembled. His legs shook.

But his pride his cursed, blinding pride refused to let him fall.

'I will not lose. I will not be broken by him. I am strong. I will fight until I can't breathe. I will prove my blood, my name, my destiny.'

The golden aura around him exploded, brighter than before. It wasn't strength anymore it was pure, burning will.

He moved again, not roaring now but silent, like fury had hardened into steel.

Eternalcleaver cut through the air so fast the wind itself screamed.

Azrael didn't move away. He knew dodging was useless.

He planted his feet. His grin widened, more wolf than man. His left fist drew back, gauntlet dark against the sword's blinding light.

The two forces collided.

BOOM!

The impact shook the entire arena. Dust rained down. People screamed. Some shields of Aether flared in the stands as professors protected the students.

Kaelen's arm gave way. He felt bones crack. His hand lost all strength. The Eternalcleaver slipped, falling to the sand.

Azrael's arm snapped at the shoulder. His scream tore out between clenched teeth. His left arm dangled uselessly.

And then the effect vanished from his body.

Limit Break was over.

The borrowed strength drained away in an instant, leaving Azrael raw, battered, and broken.

His breath came hard, his body shuddering.

Kaelen, even broken and bloodied, still stood at his peak. His aura burned around him, pride forcing his body to move.

They both staggered back, glaring at one another through swollen eyes.

The duel was over.

Azrael lowered his chin, sweat dripping from his face. 'This is it. He's won. I'm done. But I'm not weak anymore. That's enough.'

Instead of shame, a grin tugged at his lips.

'I didn't fight to prove myself to them. Not to the professors. Not to the crowd. Not even to him. I fought for me. And I know now… I've grown.'

He grabbed his dangling shoulder with his good hand.

Clench.

With a sickening pop, he shoved it back into place. His teeth ground from the pain, but his grin stayed.

He lifted his head, ready to surrender. He didn't care about the win. He was satisfied.

But before he could open his mouth

CRASH!

The arena walls split open. Stone shattered, chunks of debris tumbling across the sand.

The crowd screamed. Students scrambled to their feet. Professors raised barriers.

Another wall cracked, this one closer.

Then the far section of the stands exploded outward the dust and rubble choked the air.

Dark figures poured in through the breach.

Hooded. Twenty, thirty, maybe more.

Weapons gleamed in their hands. Their movements were hungry, deliberate.

The demon followers had come.

The duel was over.

The real war had just walked into the arena.