A Villain's Survival Guide

Yesterday morning, Leomaris stumbled across a corpse in a Novel Ages clothing, unmistakably. The thing was dry, pale as a sheet, every bit of life wrung out of it, nothing left but a thin skin stretched over bone like a poorly fitted cover.

He’d shrugged it off at the time. Put it down to the Rune Realm, and thought nothing more of it.

He wasn’t afforded that luxury now. The corpses before him, arranged within the enormous ritual circle, were no different from what he’d seen that day.

These were people from his era, the Modern Era. Shoved into the Malice Rune Realm, malevolent energy was forced into them until there was nothing left; the lot of them were killed on the spot. Just for a ritual.

Leomaris had no way of knowing if the ritual was done. It didn’t matter. It had to be stopped either way. He’d killed one already, and yet the remaining four carried on praying without so much as a flinch.

Instructor Moon’s gaze climbed to the top of the statue. The Jester of the End’s robes flickered elegantly and elusively, the sort of thing that couldn’t quite be placed before it shifted again. The darkness threading around him and his weapon didn’t help matters.

Yet, he smiled.

"I knew you were a unique bloke. If you’ve killed Lucius and my spy hasn’t returned, then that means you’ve killed him as well... interesting."

"But who would have thought... you were the same as the notorious Jester of the End."

Leomaris’s chest tightened. He’d known Instructor Moon wouldn’t be taken in, but he’d counted on it taking longer than this.

"Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to show me that you’re the Jester of the End?"

He dropped from the statue’s shoulder and caught the staff beneath, steadying himself. He needed a proper look at Instructor Moon and his allies.

"You mustn’t worry about that, Moon. None of you will live long enough to tell a soul."

Behind Moon, the red-haired woman burst out laughing. It was the taunting kind, daunting to witness, almost agonising, as though the excitement of it all might kill her.

"You really think you two can kill us?"

Leomaris frowned, though not at the laugh, that was the least of it. What caught him was the number on her body. When Hazel had killed Instructor Moon’s spy, he’d seen a "three" among the tattoos. This woman had a "one." Right there by her neck.

His attention shifted toward Hazel. "Let’s get closer."

Hazel gave a nod, and in the same breath, countless illusions of them both scattered across the field. It brought a moment’s confusion to Instructor Moon and his allies’ faces. Just a moment.

The opening was there, and they took it, closing the distance in quick order. Close enough now, Leomaris got a proper look and felt something shift in him. Instructor Moon had a number one tattoo. The woman beside him too.

That was when it hit him. Those numbers could only mean one thing: they were all Crimson Order. Worse, he had three of their First Orders standing right in front of him.

A soft laugh escaped him, his hand clutching his head, torn between emotions he couldn’t quite sort through.

Instructor Moon’s loathing made perfect sense now. Leomaris threatened the Sovereign of the Crimson Order. Worse, he’d half-inched the items they were after and gone and consumed them.

"Who would have thought... everything has been the Crimson Order’s doing?"

The modest woman’s giggle was soft, almost polite. Then she snapped her fingers, and Hazel’s illusions shattered. Every single one, like glass, hit at exactly the right angle.

"He catches on fast. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were something special."

Her words were lost on him entirely. Leomaris’s mind was elsewhere, picking apart what this woman’s ability might be.

He knew his situation well enough. Three First Orders, and Lucius had already taken the stuffing out of him. A straight fight was out of the question. Tricks were all he had left.

Worse, he hadn’t the faintest idea what Instructor Moon’s ability was, the man had never been in the novel.

The Crimson Order was supposed to be gone by now. Dismantled, or perhaps wiped out entirely. They only existed because of him.

"I take it you’re Cian. Nice to meet you. I’ve never once enjoyed your presence."

Cian looked amused. "You saw me just once through that fog, and you can already tell what I look like?"

Leomaris frowned beneath his mask, his tone dropping cold and daunting. "What do you want?"

Instructor Moon shrugged. "You really can’t read the room. We’re here to kill you. Haven’t you figured that out already?"

Leomaris let out a sigh. "And you brought three First Orders? I never knew you thought this highly of me."

Leomaris was putting on a brave face, nothing more. Somewhere beneath it, he was hoping they’d have a change of heart.

He’d figured it out over a week ago, killing him hadn’t been Instructor Moon’s original goal. But then Moon had seen the curse the Firstlight Goddess had left on him, and the whole thing had gone pear-shaped from there.

"My fiancée, Stella, always tells me to be cautious. The reason she hasn’t married me yet is that I never was."

He began rolling up his sleeve.

"I tried to kill you at first, but you survived. And considering you have been cursed by the Goddess, dealing with you requires caution. You are an anomaly, an error, someone even the Goddess herself loathes, and that makes you dangerous to face."

The red-haired lady spoke. "Don’t get us wrong, this doesn’t mean you stand a chance in hell of defeating us. Just consider it an honour."

A disappointed sigh escaped him. The Crimson Order had genuinely wanted him, after he’d survived death, they’d come after him with recruitment in mind. That had been Moon’s angle from the start.

Then they’d spotted the curse and twigged it immediately: he’d been tempted with Le Mythe des Quatre.

This had stopped being about organisational clash. It was religious now, and that was worse.

He was an oddity, someone foul enough to earn a curse from the Goddess who supposedly loved all. The Crimson Order was built around the Firstlight Goddess, wanting him dead wasn’t just personal, it was good housekeeping.

"This is sad. Are you really going to throw your lives away over a religion?"

"You think so? Thank you for your concern."

When Instructor Moon spoke, the ground trembled. Leomaris and Hazel found their footing immediately, both scrambling to stay upright.

He’d put it down to Moon’s doing, but then one of the statues took a heavy step, and that theory went straight out the window. Whatever this was, it was well beyond human.

In a single swing, the statue brought its sword down across the ritualists, killing them all.

Leomaris felt the chill run through him, and for a moment, couldn’t manage a single step.