Player Chapter 15. Villain in The Making
He briefly considered Mana Manifestation, clean area damage, elemental control, but his mana pool wasn't luxurious. Mana potions weren't free. He couldn't afford to burn through resources like some overfunded noble mage.
Poor decisions were for rich characters.
"Create Weapon," he murmured.
Mana condensed in his palm, shaping smoothly.
[Summoned: Long Bow]
The weapon formed, sleek, dark, curved with lethal elegance. It felt natural in his grip. Balanced. Responsive.
Elena's breath caught.
A bow?
She had assumed rogue. Throwing knives yesterday. Cold gaze.
But he stood tall in the open field like a challenger issuing an invitation. No cover. No crouching.
'Archer usually hide,' she thought automatically.
He didn't.
He lifted the bow.
No wasted movement.
The string drew back in a fluid, almost lazy motion.
First arrow.
-Thwip!
A Wild Boar fifty meters away dropped instantly. Clean shot through the eye.
Before its body hit the ground…
Second arrow.
Another boar collapsed.
Third. Fourth. Fifth.
Less than five seconds. Five corpses.
Elena's eyes widened slightly.
He didn't adjust posture dramatically. Didn't over-aim. Each shot felt… pre-decided.
He wasn't reacting.
He was executing.
The plains shifted.
Nearby wolves lifted their heads. The scent of blood carried quickly in cool air.
Riven remained where he stood.
No retreat.
[Hostility increasing.]
"I see them."
The wolves howled.
Low.
Hunting call.
A pack emerged from the tall grass, eyes reflecting faint dawn light. Eight. No… ten. Level 10 Thorn Wolves. Fast. Coordinated.
Elena instinctively took a step forward from behind her concealment.
"Riven…" she whispered under her breath.
Reckless.
You don't stand in the open and aggro a pack.
But he smiled.
Not wide. Not dramatic.
Just a thin, cold curve of satisfaction.
And that unsettled her far more than fear would have.
The wolves charged.
Thirty meters.
Twenty.
Ten.
The bow dissolved mid-motion.
[Summoned: Dual Swords]
Mana reshaped into twin blades, curved, sharp, humming faintly.
Elena's breath stopped.
He didn't back away.
He stepped forward.
The first wolf lunged.
He sidestepped cleanly. Blade flashed upward. A clean slice across its throat. Blood sprayed warm and immediate.
The body hit the grass before the second wolf reached him.
He pivoted.
Left blade deflected claws. Right blade plunged under ribcage. Twisted. Pulled free.
Hot blood streaked across his sleeve.
He didn't flinch.
He moved like someone who'd studied movement down to muscle memory. No wasted effort. No flourish.
Third wolf leapt from the side.
He ducked under it and drove a blade upward through its chest midair. The momentum carried the body over him before it collapsed behind.
Elena's heart pounded.
It was violent. Brutal.
Not theatrical heroism.
Precision slaughter.
Two wolves circled. Testing.
Riven exhaled slowly through his nose and checked his XP bar.
"Slower than expected," he muttered.
[They are level 10.]
"I'm also level 10."
The wolves lunged together.
He stepped into them.
Blades crossed once, metallic shriek of claw meeting mana edge, then separated in opposite arcs.
Both wolves fell almost simultaneously.
Blood painted the grass darker in the early light.
Elena's fingers tightened unconsciously against her robe.
She had seen battles. She had seen death.
But this…
This was different.
There was no hesitation in him.
No guilt flicker.
No anger.
Just calm, ruthless efficiency.
He moved like a professional.
A killer.
And somehow…
It was terrifying.
And infuriatingly attractive.
She swallowed hard.
'What is wrong with me?'
More wolves charged. Three remaining.
One snapped at his arm. Teeth almost grazed cloth.
He grabbed its scruff mid-motion and slammed it downward into the dirt before finishing it with a clean downward thrust.
The final two tried to retreat.
He didn't let them.
He threw one sword.
It pierced through the spine cleanly.
The other he chased down in three long strides before ending it with a horizontal cut so smooth it almost looked gentle.
Silence fell across the field.
Only the wind moved now.
Blood soaked into grass.
Riven stood still for a second. Breathing steady.
[Kill Count Updated.]
He rolled his shoulder once. No damage.
Elena stepped back instinctively as he turned slightly.
And for a fraction of a second, his eyes scanned the horizon.
Her hiding spot.
She froze.
Did he see me?
His gaze lingered there half a second too long.
Then moved away.
He knew.
He absolutely knew.
And he let her stay.
Her chest tightened in a way she couldn't define.
Trust?
Invitation?
Or silent challenge?
He picked up the bow again.
[Summoned: Long Bow]
And resumed hunting like the previous massacre was just warm-up.
Elena watched him in silence.
The way he switched weapons seamlessly. The way distance combat flowed into close combat without hesitation.
An archer who could dual-wield swords like a frontline fighter.
No.
Not just that.
He didn't fight like someone leveling.
He fought like someone rehearsing.
Like he was calibrating. Testing limits.
And every time he moved, something in her stomach fluttered dangerously.
Blood on his sleeve. Focus in his eyes. That faint, satisfied tilt of his mouth when an enemy fell exactly as predicted.
Ruthless.
Efficient.
Cold.
And somehow…
So alive.
She pressed her hand lightly over her chest.
This is problematic.
Very problematic!
Because she wasn't watching a hero.
It was more like… a villain in the making.
Elena swallowed as Riven stepped through the last cluster of Marsh Spiders, their black legs twitching violently before going still. His blade flashed once… clean, decisive, and the final spider dropped.
Silence settled over the plains.
[Quest Completed!]
[Reward: 100 Coins Acquired.]
[Level Up!]
[Level: 12.]
[You got Boar Meat X31, Wolf Fangs X40, and Spiderwebs X31]
A faint pulse of mana rippled around him. Subtle. Controlled. No dramatic light pillar. No shouting.
He didn't cheer. Didn't pump a fist.
He just exhaled once and rolled his shoulder, testing the movement like someone finishing a workout.
Elena's eyes scanned him instinctively.
Blood streaked his sleeve. Splattered across his tunic. Dark against fabric.
But none of it was his.
'That's why he's fine,' she realized. He looked like he walked out of a battlefield, yet there wasn't a single wound worth healing.
Her heart thudded once.
He turned slowly.
"Elena," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather. "How long are you going to hide there?"
Her breath caught.