A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

Silence lingered after Valeria Draven’s final words.

None of the students spoke. The weight of her declaration settled over the combat hall like a physical pressure. Talent, mana, and family name had been dismissed in a single breath. Only the ability to fight remained.

Valeria let the silence stretch for several more seconds before continuing.

”In this class, results are the only currency that matters.”

She turned and walked toward the nearest weapon rack. Her boots struck the reinforced floor with steady rhythm.

”You will train with real resistance. You will bleed if you are careless. You will lose if you are weak. I will not soften the truth for anyone.”

She stopped beside the rack and rested one hand on the hilt of a wooden practice sword.

”Today’s lesson is simple.”

Her eyes moved across the group once more.

”I will assess every one of you.”

A few students shifted uneasily.

Valeria continued without mercy.

”You will step onto the platform one by one. You may choose any training weapon from the racks. You will face me for a short exchange. I will not use mana or talent. Only pure combat skill.”

She lifted the wooden sword and gave it a light swing. The air hissed.

”I will judge your stance, your reaction speed, your decision-making under pressure, and whether you understand the distance between life and death.”

Her gaze hardened.

”Those who freeze will be marked. Those who charge blindly will be marked. Those who show nothing will be marked.”

She pointed toward the main platform.

”First volunteer.”

No one moved.

The silence stretched.

Then a broad-shouldered young man near the front stepped forward. It was the same warrior who had questioned Professor Elowen about attending spell-casting classes. His expression was tense but determined.

”I’ll go first, Professor.”

Valeria gave a short nod.

”Name.”

”Garran Holt.”

”Choose your weapon.”

Garran walked to the rack and selected a heavy wooden greatsword. He stepped onto the platform and settled into a low stance.

Valeria faced him without raising her own weapon yet.

”Begin when ready.”

Garran charged.

His first swing was powerful and direct. Valeria stepped aside with minimal movement. The wooden blade passed harmlessly through empty air. Before Garran could recover, the tip of Valeria’s practice sword touched the side of his neck.

”Dead.”

Garran froze.

Valeria lowered her weapon.

”Your strength is acceptable. Your commitment to the attack is not. You committed everything to a single line and left yourself no escape. Next.”

Garran stepped down, face flushed.

One by one, students began stepping forward.

Some chose swords. Others selected spears or staves. A few mages attempted to keep distance and rely on footwork alone. Most lasted only a few exchanges.

Valeria never used more force than necessary. She did not humiliate them with prolonged beatings. She simply ended each match the moment a decisive opening appeared.

Andras watched in silence from the edge of the group.

Her movements were economical. No wasted steps. No unnecessary flourishes. Every action served a single purpose: control the distance, create an opening, end the exchange.

She was not the strongest person he had faced. Selene still surpassed her in pure skill and experience. But Valeria’s teaching style was different. Where Selene refined technique through repetition, Valeria exposed weakness through immediate pressure.

Seraphina stood a short distance to his left. Her expression was calm, but her eyes followed every exchange with careful attention.

Aurelia stood farther back, observing with quiet interest.

Lucian and Vespera remained near the middle of the group. Lucian’s posture was relaxed, yet his gaze never left the platform.

Lenore stood slightly apart from the others, arms crossed, crimson eyes half-lidded. She looked almost bored.

Elaria Sylvanis was also present. The elf’s expression remained cold after the examination incident. She had not spoken a single word to Andras since then.

Eventually, Valeria’s gaze settled on the remaining students who had not yet stepped forward.

”You.”

Her finger pointed directly at Andras.

Several nearby students turned to look at him.

Andras met her eyes without flinching.

”Yes, Professor.”

”Step forward.”

He walked toward the weapon rack at an unhurried pace. His fingers brushed across several wooden swords before settling on one of medium length and balanced weight. It was similar to the training blades he had used under Selene.

He stepped onto the platform.

Valeria studied him for a moment.

”Name.”

”Andras Darkmoor.”

A faint murmur passed through some of the students.

Valeria showed no reaction.

”You ranked third in the entrance examination. I’ve read the reports.”

Andras remained silent.

”I will not hold back simply because of that ranking,” she said. ”Nor will I underestimate you because of it. Show me what you actually are.”

She raised her wooden sword and settled into a neutral stance.

”Begin.”

Andras did not charge.

He adjusted his grip and settled into the opening posture of the Black Thorn Sword Style. His breathing remained steady. Echo Resonance expanded quietly, reading the subtle shifts in Valeria’s weight and the tension in her arms.

Valeria moved first.

Her advance was sudden and direct. The wooden blade cut toward his shoulder in a clean diagonal.

Andras stepped back half a pace and redirected the strike with a controlled angle of his own sword. The impact traveled up his arms, heavier than he had expected from a training weapon.

She followed immediately with a second cut from the opposite side.

Andras met it, redirected again, and attempted to create distance.

Valeria refused to allow it.

She pressed forward with short, precise steps, each attack designed to keep him reacting rather than dictating the rhythm. Her blade work was not flashy, but every motion carried the weight of real experience.

Andras accepted two light contacts against his guard rather than overcommitting to a full counter. He was measuring her.

Her strength was greater than most of the students she had faced. Her timing was sharp. She did not leave obvious openings.

Yet she was still limited by the restriction she had placed on herself. No mana. No talent.

Andras had no such limitation in his thoughts, only in the rules of the assessment.

He adjusted.

When her next thrust came, he did not simply block. He used the principle Selene had drilled into him—Flowing Transition. He met the blade, guided it slightly off-line, and allowed his own body to carry the momentum into a counter cut aimed at her exposed side.

Valeria’s eyes sharpened.

She twisted her wrist and intercepted the counter with a sharp parry that forced his blade upward. In the same motion she stepped inside his range and stopped her wooden sword a finger’s width from his throat.

The exchange ended.

Silence returned to the hall.

Valeria held the position for a full second before lowering her weapon.

”You read the first three exchanges correctly,” she said. ”You adapted. You did not panic when the pressure increased.”

She stepped back.

”But you hesitated at the final moment. You calculated instead of committing. Against an opponent of equal or greater skill, that hesitation will cost you.”

Andras lowered his sword.

”Understood.”

Valeria studied him for another moment. Something unreadable passed through her expression.

”You fight like someone who has already killed,” she said quietly enough that only he could hear. ”Not like a student who has only sparred.”

Andras met her gaze without answering.

Valeria turned away.

”Next.”

Andras stepped down from the platform and returned to the edge of the group. His expression remained calm, but his mind was already reviewing every movement of the exchange.

She was skilled.

More importantly, she was observant.

That made her dangerous in a different way.

Seraphina glanced at him as he returned.

”You lasted longer than most,” she said under her breath.

Andras gave a slight shrug.

”She was holding back.”

Valeria continued calling students forward. The assessments proceeded with the same ruthless efficiency. By the time the last student stepped down from the platform, the sun outside the high windows had shifted noticeably.

Valeria rested her wooden sword against her shoulder and addressed the class.

”I have seen enough for today.”

She pointed toward the weapon racks.

”From tomorrow onward, you will train in pairs under my direction. Those of you who showed acceptable fundamentals will be pushed harder. Those of you who showed nothing will start from the beginning until you understand the difference between swinging a weapon and using one.”

Her gaze swept across them one final time.

”Dismissed.”

The students began to disperse, some quietly discussing the assessments, others simply relieved it was over.

Andras remained where he was for a moment longer, watching Valeria as she spoke quietly with Elena near the far wall.

He turned and walked toward the exit with the others.

Outside, the afternoon air of Ambrose Academy felt cooler than before.

The first combat lesson had ended.

The students slowly dispersed across the academy grounds, their conversations gradually fading as the afternoon sun descended beyond the distant towers.