The Villain Professor's Second Chance

The moment the containment cell shattered, the world erupted into chaos.

Metal groaned as the iron bars twisted apart, bending outward like they had never been solid to begin with. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber as the figure inside lurched forward, its body jerking unnaturally. The torches flickered violently, the air thick with something unseen, something unnatural.

Kael barely had time to process what was happening before the thing—because it could no longer be called a man—moved.

It didn't charge. It didn't lunge.

It shifted.

One second, it was writhing within the broken cell, body half-crumpled as if in agony. The next, it was standing inches from Kael, its presence a sudden, suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

Dark veins pulsed beneath its skin, stretching like blackened roots overtaking a dying tree. Its mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead, its lips twisted, skin pulling tight over too-sharp bones as if it was trying to remember how to speak.

Then, it exhaled.

A breath of something rancid, something cold.

Kael staggered back, instincts screaming at him to move. His hand shot toward his dagger, but before he could react, the creature jerked forward.

It was fast—faster than anything in its state should have been.

Liora was faster.

His blade flashed in the dim torchlight, slashing upward in a controlled arc. The edge of his dagger caught the creature's arm as it lashed toward Kael, slicing cleanly through flesh that was too thin, too stretched.

The creature didn't bleed.

Instead, its wound hissed.

A tendril of black mist curled from the wound, dissipating into the air like smoke torn from dying embers. The creature's head twitched violently, its glowing, feverish eyes locking onto Liora with something resembling recognition.

Then it screamed.

The sound ripped through the chamber, high-pitched and unnatural, vibrating through Kael's bones like a thousand knives scraping against metal. The torches flared, their flames stretching unnaturally before guttering, plunging the room into flickering, chaotic shadows.

The walls trembled.

No—not just the walls.

The entire estate.

Kael's breath hitched. The runes.

They were coming to life.

The symbols etched into the stone, the ones Liora had pointed out earlier but hadn't had time to examine, flared with a sudden, violent light. The carvings pulsed, their once-dormant magic waking as if sensing the shift in the air.

Something was happening.

Something bad.

Kael didn't have time to think before another pulse of energy surged through the room, slamming into his chest like a physical force. He stumbled, his vision blurring for a moment.

Then—movement.

The creature lunged again, but this time, it wasn't just one.

Shadows peeled themselves from the edges of the chamber.

Figures—half-formed, barely tangible—crawled from the cracks in the stone, their limbs stretching unnaturally, their hollow eyes glowing with the same eerie light as the corrupted guard.

Kael's pulse roared in his ears.

The estate wasn't just reacting.

It was defending itself.

"Alvane!" Liora barked, his voice sharp, demanding. "Shut it down!"

But Alvane wasn't listening.

The noble stood rigid, his face drained of color as he watched the scene unfold, his eyes locked onto the creature that had once been his guard. His lips parted, but no words came out. His hands trembled at his sides, frozen in shock.

Kael's stomach twisted.

Alvane had seen something like this before.

This wasn't just corruption.

It was his doing.

Kael didn't have time to think about what that meant before the first creature lunged at him.

He ducked, twisting on his heel as he slashed upward, his blade catching the nearest shadowy form in the chest. The impact sent it reeling, its body unraveling like mist before reforming just inches away.

They weren't real.

Not fully.

They were something in between.

The walls groaned again, the estate itself shuddering under the weight of its own awakening.

They had to get out.

Liora moved with practiced precision, cutting through the creatures with quick, efficient strikes. But for every one that dissolved, another took its place, slipping from the cracks in the stone, forming from the dark corners of the chamber.

They weren't going to win this fight.

Not here.

Kael's jaw clenched as he fought to stay on his feet, dodging another swipe from the transformed guard. The thing's fingers were too long, its skin stretched too thin. It moved in jerks, unnatural, like a puppet being forced into motions it didn't understand.

Alvane's breath hitched.

Kael turned—saw the horror dawning in the noble's eyes.

He hadn't meant for this to happen.

But that didn't matter anymore.

The estate was collapsing.

"MOVE!" Kael shouted, grabbing Alvane by the shoulder and shoving him toward the exit.

The noble stumbled, his stunned expression breaking as he registered the weight of Kael's grip.

Another pulse of energy surged through the room. The ceiling above them cracked, dust and debris cascading downward.

Liora was already moving toward the door, his movements sharp and controlled despite the chaos.

Kael followed, dragging Alvane behind him as the chamber trembled, the air growing thick with smoke and magic.

They barely made it through the hallway before the estate itself roared.

A shockwave of force blasted outward from the chamber, rattling the walls, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the floors. The torches along the corridor exploded, their flames snuffed out in an instant, plunging them into darkness.

Then—

Fire.

An eruption of heat from above.

Kael looked up just in time to see the ceiling split apart, flames bursting from the wooden beams, consuming everything in their path.

The upper floors were burning.

A low, shuddering groan filled the air—a sound that came from the estate itself. Not just stone and wood collapsing, but something deeper, something older.

Something alive.

The flames raced along the walls, licking at the floorboards. The symbols etched into the stone flickered violently, their glow warping, distorting.

Kael's lungs burned as he pulled Alvane forward.

They burst through the front doors just as another explosion of fire and magic ripped through the estate behind them.

The heat hit Kael like a hammer, searing against his skin as he stumbled onto the dirt road, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

The night air was thick with smoke, the scent of charred wood and burning magic filling his nose.

Liora was already on his feet, his gaze locked onto the inferno that had once been the noble's estate. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was tense—too tense.

Alvane collapsed onto his knees, his hands gripping the dirt, his shoulders shaking.

Everything he had built.

Everything he had hidden.

Gone.

Kael took a shaky step forward, trying to steady his breathing.

And that's when he saw it.

Through the haze of fire and smoke, past the collapsing beams and burning rubble—

A figure.

Standing just beyond the flames.

Motionless.

Watching.

Not Seyrik.

Someone else.

Kael's stomach dropped.

Who the hell was watching them?

_____

The ruins of Alvane's estate smoldered in the pale light of dawn, thick columns of smoke curling toward the sky like the last, dying breaths of a beast finally slain. The once-grand manor was little more than a skeletal husk now—charred beams jutted from the crumbling structure like broken ribs, the scorched stone walls barely standing against the weight of their own ruin. The fire had died down, leaving behind embers that still flickered in the debris, sending up occasional sparks like fireflies caught in a breeze.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt wood, melted metal, and something else—something wrong. Not just the aftermath of destruction, but a stain left behind by whatever had unraveled here. Kael could still feel it, lingering at the edges of his skin, an echo of the corruption that had seeped into this place.

Alvane survived.

Barely.

He sat slumped against the remains of a toppled statue, his once-pristine robes torn and stained with soot and blood. His breathing was shallow, ragged. His face—pale, streaked with grime—was locked in an expression of quiet devastation, his eyes fixed on the ruins of his estate with the empty stare of a man watching his entire world collapse.

The other guard—the one who had vanished and returned—hadn't been so lucky.

Kael turned away from the noble, his gaze sweeping across the courtyard where the body still lay.

Or what was left of it.

The corpse was twisted, grotesquely elongated, the darkened veins that had spread through its flesh now frozen in place like blackened cracks in shattered porcelain. His fingers were curled, stiff and claw-like, his expression contorted in agony. Whatever transformation had overtaken him had not finished before he died, leaving him in a state of horrifying in-between—no longer human, not fully other.

Kael swallowed hard. The image would stay with him for a long time.

The city guards had arrived shortly after the estate's collapse, drawn by the towering flames and the unnatural pulse of magic that had ruptured the air. They had kept their distance at first, warily watching the smoldering wreckage, their hands resting on their weapons, uncertain of what kind of threat still lingered in the ashes.

Now, a handful of them moved cautiously around the ruins, their murmurs carrying in the stillness of the morning. Some tended to Alvane's wounds, while others examined the body with grim expressions. They didn't question Kael or Liora.

They knew something unnatural had happened here.

They just didn't want to be the ones to name it.

Kael exhaled sharply, his breath curling in the cold morning air. His muscles ached, exhaustion settling deep into his bones now that the adrenaline had begun to fade. He glanced toward Liora, who stood a few paces away, his posture deceptively relaxed—hands tucked into his belt, weight shifted lazily onto one leg. But Kael wasn't fooled.

Liora was watching.

Not just the ruins. Not just the guards.

He was watching the horizon.

Kael frowned. "You saw something," he said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Liora didn't immediately respond. His sharp gaze remained fixed on the distance, his fingers absently tapping against the hilt of his blade—a slow, methodical rhythm.

Kael followed his line of sight, but all he saw was the city beyond—the marketplace in the distance, the stone walls of Halewick standing against the morning sky, the road stretching past them toward the rest of the kingdom. Nothing unusual.

But that didn't mean nothing was there.

Kael felt a prickle at the back of his neck.

"Liora," he pressed, stepping closer. "At the end—when the fire was spreading. You looked up. What did you see?"

Liora's tapping stopped.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, finally, his lips curved—not into a smirk, not into his usual amused expression, but into something tight. Something calculated.

"I saw someone," he said at last. His voice was quieter now, edged with something Kael couldn't quite place. "Through the smoke. Just watching."

Kael's stomach dropped. "Seyrik?"

Liora shook his head. "No."

That one word sent a cold chill crawling down Kael's spine.

It should have been Seyrik. It should have been him. Seyrik was the one they had been tracking, the one leaving these trails of corruption in his wake, the one experimenting with whatever twisted magic had transformed those creatures. If there was anyone who should have been watching them, who should have been behind this—

It should have been Seyrik.

But it wasn't.

Kael clenched his fists. "Then who?"

Liora exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his blade. He finally turned his gaze toward Kael, his expression unreadable, his sharp features cast in the pale morning light.

"That's what I'd like to know."