I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Heinrich swung his blade wildly, each strike faster and more desperate than the last.

Cherion didn’t freeze. The instant the cold steel gleamed under the light, he threw his upper body to the left, rolling hard across the slick floor tiles. The iron tip missed his throat by an inch, scraping violently against the stone with a harsh, metallic screech that threw sparks into the shadows.

”Hold still, you slippery rat!” Heinrich shrieked, his breath coming in ragged, foam-flecked gasps as he swung the dagger sideways in a wild, blind slash.

”You really followed us all the way from the plaza, didn’t you?” Cherion barked out, scrambling backward on his palms and boots to gain distance inside the tight washroom space.

”Good observation!” Heinrich sneered, scrambling after him on his knees like a rabid beast, his cloak dragging over the stone floor. ”Too bad you were too stupid to do anything about it! You walked right into my hands!”

”I didn’t do anything because I thought you were just some pathetic, lonely weirdo holding an old grudge!” Cherion ducked as Heinrich lashed out again, the blade nicking the hem of Cherion’s dark wool coat. Cherion’s eyes narrowed into sharp flint. ”And turns out I was completely right!”

”Shut up! Shut up!” Heinrich screamed, his face twisting into a hideous, vein-popping mask of pure envy. ”It’s not fair! It’s not bloody fair! You ruined dozens of lives in the capital! You humiliated people, you destroyed reputations, you acted like a god among men, and you get off completely free! No punishment, no downfall, no accountability! You just get a grand estate, a powerful lover, and a comfortable life! Where is the divine judgment for your sins, Cherion?!”

Cherion’s back hit the solid base of the heavy marble washbasin, trapping him. He looked straight into Heinrich’s bloodshot eyes without a single trace of fear, his jaw setting tight.

”So what?” Cherion countered, his voice ringing cold and clear through the room. ”You think you’re the one qualified to deliver divine judgment on me?!”

Heinrich let out a guttural howl and lunged with all his weight, bringing the blade down toward Cherion’s chest with both hands.

Instead of backing away, Cherion shot his arms upward, his fingers locking tightly around Heinrich’s wrist just inches above his sternum. The sharp edge hovered dangerously close to Cherion’s neck, the cold iron pressing so near he could feel the chill of the metal against his skin. Heinrich gritted his teeth, pressing down with every ounce of brute, desperate strength he had left.

Cherion’s muscles strain against the weight. His teeth gritted tight, his heart hammering against his ribs, but his morning routine wasn’t just for show anymore. Months of discipline, daily drills, and pushing through exhausting physical conditioning paid off in a single explosive second.

With a sharp growl, Cherion twisted his hips, drove his boots into the stone tile, and forced Heinrich’s wrist outward, snapping the joint backward until Heinrich shrieked in pain. Cherion used the momentum to shove forward, driving his shoulder directly into Heinrich’s midsection and throwing the disgraced nobleman backward onto the floor.

Before Heinrich could even hit the tiles, Cherion scrambled over him, straddling Heinrich’s chest and pinning his arms down beneath his knees.

Heinrich gasped, his eyes widening in pure shock as he looked up at the man he thought was a frail, pampered aristocrat. ”What...”

Thwack!

Cherion’s right fist smashed directly into Heinrich’s cheekbone with brutal, sickening force.

Heinrich’s head cracked violently against the stone floor, his nose instantly bursting open in a spray of bright crimson.

”You pathetic piece of trash!” Cherion yelled, his knuckles throbbing as he pulled his fist back and threw another sharp, heavy right straight onto Heinrich’s jaw.

Thwack!

Heinrich let out a strangled, muffled gurgle, the blade slipping from his numb, limp fingers and clattering harmlessly into the corner near the basin.

”You had a chance to rebuild your life!” Cherion snarled, throwing a brutal left hook that split Heinrich’s lip wide open. ”You could have used your time to do honest work, to take care of your mother, to atone for the people your family scammed!”

Thwack!

”Instead, you drug my friends!” Cherion punched him again, his chest heaving as raw adrenaline surged through his veins. ”You track me down like a coward! And you try to murder me in a theater washroom?!”

Thwack!

Heinrich’s head jerked side to side with every impact, his whines turning into pathetic, gurgling whimpers as blood smeared across his pale cheeks and bruised eyes. He raised his arms feebly to cover his face, completely overwhelmed by the ruthless, relentless beatdown.

”Didn’t think I could fight back, did you?!” Cherion yelled, resting his knees heavily on Heinrich’s shoulders as he raised both fists again. ”I train every single morning, you idiot! One hundred push-ups! Running through the courtyard before dawn! I don’t just sit around looking pretty!”

Thwack!

Before Cherion could rain down another blow, the doors were kicked wide open with a booming crash that reverberated off the walls.

”Lord Cherion!”

Ezek rushed into the room with his sword drawn, three of Derrick’s house guards close behind him, their weapons ready.

Ezek froze, his sword lowering slightly as his jaw practically dropped to the floor. The house guards behind him stopped dead in their tracks, staring in utter, speechless bewilderment at the scene before them.

There was no hidden assassin fleeing through a window. There was no helpless noble crying for aid.

Instead, Cherion was sitting squarely on top of a bloodied, pathetic heap of a man, his coat slightly rumpled, his hair a little messy, and his right fist cocked back in mid-air ready to strike again.

Cherion paused, his hand hovering over Heinrich’s battered face. He blinked, looking up toward the doorway, and let out a long, heavy breath, his tense shoulders finally relaxing.

”Oh, good,” Cherion said lightly, his voice remarkably calm as if he had just been interrupted while reading a book. ”You guys finally made it.”

Ezek quickly stepped over the threshold, his eyes darting frantically across the room. He spotted Reiner lying unconscious near the curtained nook and Derrick slumped in the stall. ”Lord Cherion! Are you hurt? What happened to Reiner and Lord Avery?!”

”They were drugged,” Cherion explained, slowly pushing himself off Heinrich’s chest and standing up on his feet. He dusted off his trousers with a quick, brisk motion of his hands. ”Some kind of quick-acting sleeping powder. Check on them, their breathing is steady, so they just need fresh air and time to wake up.”

Derrick’s guards immediately rushed past Cherion to tend to their young master and assist Reiner, while Ezek stepped forward, staring down at the groaning, blood-soaked wreck on the floor.

”Who is this piece of filth?” Ezek nudged Heinrich in the ribs with his boot, a low growl escaping him.

Ha! Even Ezek couldn’t recognize him! Granted, Heinrich’s face wasn’t exactly in its best condition anymore, but still. Cherion figured he wasn’t the only one struggling to put a name to that face. They’d only met the guy once, anyway.

”Some self-appointed hero who thought he could take the law into his own hands,” Cherion replied, shaking his head with a disgusted scoff. He raised his hands, flexing his fingers, and winced as a sharp, stinging pain shot through his bruised knuckles. His right hand was red, swollen, and scraped from smashing into Heinrich’s sharp cheekbones.

Cherion stared down at his damaged hand, his eyebrows knitting together in immediate, profound annoyance.

”Take good care of this piece of trash right here,” Cherion instructed Ezek, pointing a finger down at Heinrich, who was weeping quietly into the floor tiles.

Cherion brought his swollen knuckles closer to his face, letting out a sharp, irritated hiss. ”Ugh, damn it... you made me ruin my hand. The hand Zarius likes to hold so much!”

Overcome with a sudden wave of petty anger at the sight of his bruised skin, Cherion turned back around and delivered one last, vicious, solid kick straight into Heinrich’s side.

Heinrich gave a pathetic little yelp, curling up tighter as Cherion strolled out of the room.