A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

Heroic Armament.

Lucian bent his knees and lunged forward.

His sword swept through the air, trailing radiant golden light. The extended edge descended toward Malgrath’s chest.

**BOOM!**

The impact sent a shock wave across the western training grounds.

Malgrath staggered half a step. The dark mana covering his chest rippled under the force of the strike, and a shallow cut appeared across his skin. Blood trickled from the wound.

For a moment, the demon stared at it. Then he raised his head. The surprise on his face faded into cold amusement.

”So this is your talent, Hero.”

Lucian tightened his grip on the hilt. The golden light flickered along the blade, reminding him how rapidly Heroic Armament drained his mana. His body was already nearing its limit. The exchange had cost him more strength than he could afford.

Malgrath touched the blood on his chest with two fingers.

”Heroic Armament. A remarkable ability.” He examined the blood. ”To think you could wound me while standing an entire realm below me. Now I understand why the Goddess chose you.”

Lucian remained silent, his eyes fixed on the demon as he searched for an opening.

Malgrath noticed.

”But do not misunderstand. Wounding me does not mean you can defeat me.”

Dark mana stirred around his body.

”There is a considerable difference between our realms. Your talent may allow you to challenge opponents stronger than yourself, but even a remarkable ability has limits.”

He took another step forward.

”You can cut me. You can make me bleed.” His expression turned contemptuous. ”But defeat me?”

He laughed once, low and without humor.

”Do not make me laugh.”

Lucian adjusted his stance.

Behind him, students continued fleeing through the western passage. Some ran unaided. Others struggled to support the injured.

He could not retreat. If he stepped aside, Malgrath would have a clear path toward them.

The demon followed his gaze.

”Still trying to protect them?”

He extended his right arm.

”Since you are going to die regardless, I will let you learn something before the end.”

Dark mana compressed around his arm. Layer upon layer of energy gathered tightly around the muscles, forming a dense coating. The pressure made the air tremble. Cracks spread across the stone beneath his feet.

”This is my talent — Dreadforge.”

Malgrath flexed his fingers. The dark coating tightened around his knuckles.

”By compressing mana around my body, I can reinforce my strength and defense wherever I need it.”

The same coating spread across his other arm.

”Your talent extends your sword’s cutting edge. Mine allows me to deliver overwhelming physical force while making my body far harder to injure.”

He looked at Lucian with open disdain.

”Now you know how it works. Find a way around it, if you can.”

Lucian’s expression hardened.

The information was valuable. Malgrath had revealed both the name of his talent and its underlying principle.

*His talent reinforces his body through compressed mana. If I concentrate Heroic Armament into a smaller cutting edge, I may be able to penetrate his defense before he reinforces the point of impact—*

Malgrath vanished.

Lucian barely had time to raise his sword.

**CLANG!**

A reinforced fist crashed against the golden edge. The impact jolted through Lucian’s arms, sending pain through his injured side and nearly tearing the weapon from his grasp.

Before he could recover, Malgrath attacked again.

Lucian tried to evade, but his injured leg failed to respond quickly enough. The demon’s fist grazed his shoulder, sending a sharp burst of pain down his sword arm. His grip faltered.

Malgrath struck from the opposite direction.

Lucian forced his arm upward and caught the blow at an awkward angle.

**CRACK!**

The collision drove him backward. His boots scraped across the stone, but his injured leg buckled before he could regain his balance. He dropped to one knee.

Blood ran from his forehead and blurred his vision. His breathing turned ragged. Each attempt to draw a full breath sent pain through his ribs.

The golden edge of his sword flickered.

*Damn it.*

He forced himself upright, using the sword to steady his trembling body.

Malgrath watched him without expression.

”Have you already reached your limit?”

Lucian clenched his teeth. His side throbbed. His shoulder burned. His fingers shook around the hilt. Maintaining Heroic Armament was becoming more difficult with every passing moment.

Malgrath glanced at the unstable golden blade.

”Your talent consumes mana. Maintaining that extended edge requires concentration.” He tapped his temple. ”Even if you understand exactly how my talent works, you still need the strength to act on that knowledge.”

Lucian said nothing.

He needed an opening.

But first, he had to survive long enough to create one.

Malgrath lunged.

Lucian recognized the movement and tried to shift aside. His injured leg dragged against the ground, delaying him by a fraction of a second.

That was enough.

The demon’s reinforced fist slammed into his abdomen.

**THUD!**

Lucian’s body folded around the blow. He flew backward and crashed onto the stone. His sword nearly slipped from his grasp.

Blood spilled from his mouth. His vision blurred at the edges. The pain in his abdomen made even the smallest movement agonizing.

The golden light around his sword flickered violently, almost vanishing before he forced more mana into it.

Malgrath approached without haste and stopped in front of him.

”You wounded me once.” His eyes settled on the shallow cut across his chest. ”And now you can barely stand.”

Lucian planted one hand against the ground and tried to rise. His arm shook beneath his weight. He managed to lift his upper body, but pain forced him to stop. He remained kneeling on the stone.

Malgrath’s expression was cold.

”How disappointing.”

Lucian stared at the ground for a moment, gathering what little strength remained. Then he pushed himself up, using the sword for support.

Blood ran down his face. His injured sword arm hung lower than before. He could barely keep the golden blade steady.

Yet he raised his gaze to meet the demon’s.

Behind him, the last students were nearing the passage out of the training grounds. He could not tell whether they had all reached safety.

He could only hope they had.

”As long as someone is still behind me,” Lucian said hoarsely, ”I will not move.”

For a moment, Malgrath stared at him.

Then he laughed once, low and sharp.

”Such conviction.”

The dark mana around his limbs compressed further. The stone beneath his feet groaned under the pressure.

”Very well, Hero. Let us see how much longer that conviction can sustain you.”

Lucian raised his sword with both hands.

His fingers tightened around the hilt, but the blade continued to tremble. The golden edge wavered as his dwindling mana struggled against his failing concentration.

He could not keep fighting like this much longer.

But retreating would mean abandoning the students behind him.

Lucian steadied his breathing and forced the last of his available mana into Heroic Armament.

Malgrath lowered his body.

”Come.”

Dark mana erupted around his limbs as he launched himself forward.

Lucian tightened both hands around his sword and braced for the impact.

---

The corridor fell silent after Elowen’s departure.

Seraphina sat against the wall, one hand pressed to her injured side. The healing potion had stopped the worst of the bleeding, but her mana remained depleted, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her body.

She was out of immediate danger, but another battle was beyond her.

Andras stood nearby, conscious of the injuries he had sustained himself. Neither of them had emerged from the encounter unscathed.

Elowen turned toward him.

”Take Seraphina somewhere safe.”

Her voice was calm, but the atmosphere around her had changed.

Mana stirred through the corridor. Her emerald eyes turned cold. A sharp killing intent spread from her body. The composed demeanor she had displayed moments earlier disappeared, replaced by the presence of a mage who would show her enemies no mercy.

”I will deal with the remaining demons.”

Andras met her gaze.

”Understood.”

Elowen gave a slight nod.

The next instant, she vanished.

Andras watched the empty space where she had stood. Even with his enhanced perception, he had barely followed her movement.

*As expected of a Peak Eighth Circle Mage.*

He turned back to Seraphina.

She was still leaning against the wall, her face pale from blood loss and exhaustion.

Andras approached and lowered himself onto one knee in front of her.

For a moment, he said nothing.

He studied her face, confirming that she remained conscious and that her condition had not worsened.

Then he spoke in a quiet, controlled voice.

”Are you okay, my dear Phina?”

Seraphina’s eyes widened slightly.

Her fingers tightened against her clothes.

For a moment, she seemed to forget the pain in her side.

She stared at him, searching his face. Andras usually carried himself with confidence, his words often edged with calculation. Now, however, he seemed concerned only with whether she was all right.

That realization unsettled her more than she expected.

Her lips parted.

”An—”