Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

The massive pillar of golden light carved through the air in a blinding arc that looked like it might split the ground in two.

Alexia barely had time to cross her arms over her head before it came crashing down on her.

—BOOM!

First, a deafening explosion tore through the plaza.

Then came a blistering heatwave.

Buildings trembled. Debris burst into the air. Dust and stone sprayed in every direction, followed by a flash so violently bright that it turned the world white.

Just for a second.

When the light finally faded — and the smoke thinned enough to see…

Alexia was there, crouched on one knee at the center of the blast.

Her armor was cracked and slowly dissolving into swirling light particles. Her helmet had been blown loose, revealing tangled strands of damp orange hair clinging to her cheek.

She was panting, and her hands were trembling from the force she'd just withstood.

Her orb had shattered.

She was out of the test.

But I didn't get to enjoy the moment.

Because the very next instant, Michael was already on me.

His sword came in fast — a horizontal slash aimed straight for my side — and I raised my greatsword just in time to block it.

The impact rattled through my arm and pushed me a step backward.

Michael didn't let up.

He stepped into his next strike — a clean thrust toward my chest — and I twisted my torso at the last second to narrowly dodge the blade.

I retaliated by slamming the hilt of my greatsword on his shoulder like striking an anvil with a hammer.

—CLANG!

Metal rang out. The hit connected, but Michael didn't flinch. Not even a wince. His jet-black armor tanked the blow without so much as a dent.

But I had no time to be impressed.

Because his blade swept low next — a fast cut aimed at my legs.

I hopped back again, then hit him with a heavy overhead strike in return.

He caught it. Effortlessly, might I add. Deflected my attack with the flat of his blade and shoved mine off-course.

Then, with the opening he'd created, he stepped in and drove his elbow into my ribs.

Thwak—!

I wheezed.

That one hurt.

I activated my Origin Card and tried to shift the ground under his feet, tried to summon dozens of stony hands to rise and grab him down…

But nothing happened.

The terrain didn't change.

The matter didn't obey my will.

I immediately realized what had happened.

Michael had already copied my Origin Card.

Using my own powers against me, he solidified the ground under him and dispelled the forming hands before they could fully rise.

He was canceling the effects of my innate ability in real time.

"Oh, you sneaky bastard," I spat, not bothering to hide the irritation in my tone. "I hate when you do that."

Michael didn't reply. But I imagined he was smirking behind his visor!

He pressed on with a relentless fury of well-calculated strikes.

Maybe it was just because I hadn't been in a proper fight for weeks, but it felt like either I'd dulled — or Michael had refined his swordsmanship even further.

It was probably the latter.

Because his attacks were smoother, his sword flowed sharper, his footwork had become more precise — and it was getting harder and harder to find an opening.

He stepped closer and swung his longsword in an upward arc toward my neck.

I leaned back and brought down my greatsword to block. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal.

But because of the awkward angle I was in, I couldn't hold the bind. The force behind his blow knocked my blade aside.

And with that, my front was exposed.

Michael took the opportunity by raising his foot and slamming his boot into my chest.

THWAAM—!

I flew backward like a sack of bricks. Crashed through a low wall and hit the ground hard, tumbling over rubble, every bounce sending fresh agony through my ribs.

My vision spun. My lungs burned. And I tasted blood.

Okay. That one really hurt.

Groaning, I forced myself back to my feet, wiping the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand.

Truthfully, I was slowly reaching my limit.

I'd burned too much Essence taking out Thalia and the royals, slaying ravenous beasts, and blowing half the plaza apart to eliminate Alexia.

I wasn't exhausted yet. I could still fight for a long time.

But I was also nowhere near in my best condition.

And Michael…

He looked like he was just getting started.

From the looks of it, he still had a lot of Essence left to burn. Still had a lot of stamina. A lot of strength.

I didn't know if I could beat him in a fair duel.

…Luckily, I didn't have to.

Because defeating him was optional. And so was fighting fair.

My real objective was to win the test.

I smirked and summoned «Fire Arrow», letting a blazing projectile materialize in my grip.

Michael didn't wait. He strode through the plaza like a one-man crusade, sword dragging behind him, sparks trailing in his wake.

But before he could get near me, I raised the fire arrow… and struck it against the ground in front of me.

—Boom!

A burst of flame exploded outward, kicking up a cloud of dust that shrouded my figure.

Immediately after that, another column of golden light erupted from my sword — but this time, it didn't shoot upward.

No.

It spun.

I swung my blade in a wide, horizontal arc, and the beam of golden radiance followed — like a divine sawblade tearing through the battlefield.

Buildings crumbled. Debris flew. Screams rang out.

The radiant arc tore through everything in its path, flinging bodies in every direction.

Everyone was hit by my attack, regardless of whether they were my opponents or teammates — Kang, Alexia, even Reiner and Veyna, along with a few unfortunate Cadets who had just arrived at the scene thinking they could snatch a late win.

They were wrong.

The only one fast — and paranoid — enough to leap over the radiant arc of destruction was Michael.

I hate to admit it, but he knew me too well.

He knew I'd gladly sacrifice my teammates without blinking if it meant securing victory.

…And he was right.

The light faded and the dust began to settle.

And through the thinning smoke, Michael saw me crouched low, hand outstretched, just inches from the flagpole.

Without a hint of hesitation, he rushed in and yelled, "Why bother hiding if you're going to reveal your position with an attack?!"

His blade came down like a guillotine, slicing cleanly through my body.

…But my body didn't bleed.

It cracked.

It crumbled.

Pebbles scattered across the ground.

Michael's eyes widened as time seemed to slow down for him. Only then did he see it clearly.

What he had cut down wasn't me.

It was a stone dummy — a decoy, hastily shaped in my image.

The stone sculpture disintegrated into rubble at his feet.

And suddenly, Michael's instincts screamed at him.

It was a trap.

I had forced him to rush in and distracted him with a decoy.

He realized all this too late and jerked his head to the side just in time to see Aurieth — my golden sword — spinning toward him like a radiant frisbee.

—Clang!

He barely managed to raise his sword and block.

But the force behind the throw hurled him backward, sent him crashing and rolling across the rubble-strewn plaza.

When he finally came to a stop and pushed himself to one knee, he looked ahead—

And saw me.

I was standing by the flagpole.

One hand gripping the silken white cloth.

My breath was ragged. And blood smeared the corner of my mouth. But my smirk was still intact.

And the flag was in my hand.

With that, it was over.

I won.