The Villain Professor's Second Chance

"You want proof," he whispered. "Fine."

Liora's fingers flexed near his belt. "Kael—"

Seyrik's fingers snapped.

The runes ignited.

A surge of violent light flooded the cabin, bright and unnatural, casting jagged shadows across the walls. The ground trembled beneath their feet, as if something deep beneath the earth had stirred awake.

Kael barely had time to react before the walls of the cabin seemed to expand outward, the very air warping and twisting as if reality itself was buckling under the weight of whatever Seyrik had just unleashed.

A deep, guttural sound echoed from the darkness outside. Not quite a roar. Not quite a scream. But something in between—a noise that scraped against the inside of Kael's skull and made his instincts scream to run.

The first thing Kael noticed was the smell—thick, sickly, and wrong. Like blood and burnt flesh, twisted together into something foul.

Then came the eyes.

Glowing in the darkness beyond the doorframe, pairs upon pairs of gleaming, sickly yellow eyes blinked into existence. They were low to the ground, shifting, moving in unnatural patterns. The creatures slithered forward, their forms still obscured by the shadows, but Kael could see the way they moved—too fluid, too smooth, as if they were slipping between the cracks of reality itself.

His stomach lurched. These weren't just animals.

Liora let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders as he stepped in front of Kael, positioning himself between him and the approaching horrors.

"Well," Liora muttered, his voice low and unreadable. "That's not great."

Kael forced himself to steady his breathing. "What—what are they?"

Seyrik exhaled sharply, his eyes wild with delight. "A glimpse," he breathed. "A mere taste of what lies beyond. You should be honored. You are the first to witness true potential."

Kael's grip tightened around his dagger. "That's not potential," he said through clenched teeth. "That's corruption."

Seyrik's gaze snapped to him, his expression twisting with something almost offended. "Corruption?" His voice was sharp, as if the very idea was an insult. "No. No, no, no. You still don't understand. They are free."

The creatures took another step forward.

And this time, Kael saw them clearly.

Wolves—but not. Their bodies were elongated, twisted into unnatural shapes. Their limbs were stretched too thin, their bones shifting beneath slick, blackened flesh. Their eyes glowed with an eerie, pulsating light, their movements too precise, too controlled.

Like puppets.

Kael swallowed. "Liora…"

"I see them," Liora murmured, already drawing his blade.

Seyrik raised his hands, his fingers splayed wide, and the creatures shuddered in unison. "You can't stop it," he whispered. "You can't stop me."

And then he let them loose.

__

The creatures weren't wolves anymore.

Their bodies had twisted into something grotesque, something that defied nature. Their limbs were stretched unnaturally, their muscles rippling beneath slick, blackened fur that seemed to pulse with something alive. Their eyes burned with violet flames, casting eerie, flickering glows in the darkness. Their mouths, too wide for their skulls, lined with jagged teeth that looked like they had been shattered and put back together in a chaotic, unnatural way.

They didn't snarl. They didn't growl. They didn't make a sound.

They moved in silence, their elongated limbs carrying them forward with unsettling grace, like specters gliding over the forest floor. There was no panting, no heavy breathing. Only the crunch of earth beneath their unnatural feet, the whisper of their corrupted forms slicing through the air.

Seyrik stood at the heart of it all, watching them with an unsettling fascination. His eyes gleamed in the dim light of his runic magic, the dark energy of the ritual still crackling in the air around him. He clasped his hands together, as if admiring his own twisted masterpiece.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" he murmured.

Kael barely had time to react before the first lunged.

It moved faster than anything he'd ever seen. One moment, it was a shadow on the edge of the clearing, the next, it was hurtling toward him, its claws flashing in the moonlight.

Liora moved first.

His daggers flashed, his movements a blur of lethal precision. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter. He twisted around the first creature, one blade severing the tendons in its elongated leg while the other carved a deep line across its throat. The beast collapsed mid-leap, twitching as black mist seeped from its wounds, its body unraveling as if it had never truly existed.

Kael's breath came in short, sharp bursts. His grip tightened on his blade, the weight suddenly foreign in his hands. He stepped forward, slashing at another creature as it lunged—

Too slow.

It was on him before his sword even made contact. The impact slammed into his chest like a battering ram, sending him sprawling backward. His back hit the ground hard, pain flaring up his spine. The world spun, his vision swimming as his lungs struggled to pull in air.

The beast loomed over him, its empty eyes burning, its grotesque jaws parting—

Then a blur.

Liora's boot struck the creature's skull, sending it reeling sideways with a sickening crack.

Kael gasped, rolling to the side just in time to see Liora plant a dagger deep into the creature's exposed flank. The beast convulsed, black mist seeping from its wound like ink dissolving into water. But before Kael could push himself upright, another shadow moved.

Another creature was coming. Fast.

He tried to lift his sword, but his arms felt sluggish, his body weighed down by the lingering shock of the fall.

A flash of steel—Liora intercepted it before it reached him, his dagger meeting the creature's throat in a vicious, precise arc. The moment it collapsed, he turned, eyes sharp and furious.

"Focus, Kael!" Liora snapped, blocking another strike with fluid ease. "No room for mistakes. You fight, or you die."

Kael forced himself up, ignoring the searing ache in his ribs. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat stinging his eyes. The creatures circled, their twisted forms undeterred by the ones already slain. Their grotesque, elongated limbs twitched unnaturally, their glowing eyes locked onto him like hungry predators awaiting their command.

He could hear the rustling of leaves, the distant crackle of Seyrik's dark magic twisting the very air around them. But what unsettled him the most wasn't the creatures or the oppressive weight of the corrupted energy—it was how they moved. Together. Synchronized. Like the spiders in the mines.

Not natural. Not instinctual. Controlled.

Liora wove through them like a storm of blades, his movements fluid and effortless. His daggers gleamed in the dim light, each slash precise, each strike cutting into the creatures with ruthless efficiency. He was calculating, every step placed with intent, every strike meant to dismantle, disable, or destroy.

Kael gritted his teeth. He had to move. Had to fight. If he hesitated, he'd die.

A beast lunged at him, claws gleaming under the flickering remnants of Seyrik's spell. Kael barely had time to react. He ducked, twisted, and slammed his dagger upward into the creature's throat. His muscles burned as he pushed the blade deep, feeling the unnatural flesh tremble beneath his grip.

The creature convulsed, its form unraveling into black mist as though it had never truly been there to begin with.

Kael stumbled back, barely catching his breath before another one lunged. He rolled, narrowly avoiding a swipe aimed for his head. The sharp wind of the missed strike hissed past his ear, too close for comfort.

Liora's voice cut through the chaos like a whip. "Stay on your feet, kid!"

Kael didn't need to be told twice.

The creatures pressed forward. Their numbers hadn't dwindled enough. Seyrik was still holding the spell together, controlling them like puppets on invisible strings.

Kael's gaze darted toward him—Seyrik stood amidst the carnage, his hands weaving frantically through the air, sweat pouring down his gaunt face. His muttered words of magic were feverish, desperate. This wasn't just power—it was obsession.

"No, no, no!" Seyrik's voice cracked, his wide, frenzied eyes darting between Kael and Liora. "You don't understand! This is bigger than you!"

The ground trembled beneath them, a pulse of corrupted energy rippling outward. More creatures emerged from the shadows, forming a protective barrier around the rogue mage.

Kael cursed under his breath. There were too many.

Liora saw it first. "Kael, end him!"

There was no hesitation in his voice. No room for doubt.

Kael's heart pounded in his chest. He took a breath and ran.

The world blurred around him, his focus narrowing to Seyrik and the pulsating spell between his hands. The creatures lunged in his path, but Kael didn't stop. He slid beneath one's outstretched claws, rolled over the damp forest floor, and pushed forward.

Seyrik's fingers curled, the magic gathering between his palms coalescing into something lethal. "You are nothing! You are beneath this power!"

Kael's blade was faster.

He reached Seyrik just as the spell was about to be unleashed, just as the rogue mage's lips curled into an ecstatic grin of triumph. Kael slashed, cutting through the invisible threads that bound the creatures to him.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then the connection snapped. Continue your adventure at My Virtual Library Empire

The creatures convulsed, their glowing eyes dimming, their monstrous bodies twitching and unraveling into thick, curling shadows. Their howls of agony filled the air as they collapsed, one by one, disintegrating into nothingness.

Seyrik staggered back, his breath ragged. He clutched his chest, as if the loss of control physically wounded him. His eyes were wild, his lips curling into something between hatred and amusement.

"You don't understand," he hissed, voice trembling with something more than just anger. "I was chosen."

Liora stepped forward, his blade still at the ready, his gaze cold. "We're done here."

Seyrik's expression twisted into something unreadable—then, suddenly, his lips curled into a smile.

Not fear. Not defeat.

Something else.

Kael barely had time to register the shift before Seyrik raised a single trembling hand and whispered something under his breath. The air around him shimmered like heat rising from stone, and then—

He was gone.

Not a trace left behind.

No footprints. No magic residue.

Just silence.

The forest fell silent.