A Villain's Survival Guide

The moment the exam began, two options were clear. Hit the Red Army head-on and win, or slip into their base, retrieve the magic orb, and destroy it. Neither, he knew, would be as easy as they seemed.

Every route forward would demand sacrifices and bloodshed. As mere pawns, the least his soldiers could do was die for the cause. But now, what lay before him had taught him something important.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The fear and paranoia his soldiers felt before death wasn’t about knowing they were pawns, it was about his resolve. They had judged it. And they had no reason to die for him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

’I am their commander, and they need a reason to follow me. They are here not by choice, but because the game forced them. I must give them a reason to die for me... one rooted deeply enough that they believe their death will not be in vain.’

A soft smile tugged on his lips.

’People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel... enough sweet words to touch their souls, and they fight forever.’

Their fears couldn’t be erased, he knew that. But they could be redirected. He wanted to pass this exam, and he was going to pour every ounce of emotion into making it happen.

He drew a deep breath and raised the wooden microphone to his lips. What he envisioned was his battle with cancer and every word he’d desperately wanted to hear back then.

"I know you’re afraid. You should be. Only the dead feel nothing. But understand this, your fear won’t change what’s coming. It only decides how you face it: standing... or begging."

He braced himself.

"Do not think about me, but about yourselves and those you protect. If we fall here, there is no retreat behind us. There’s no second chance. What stands behind us, your homes, your families, and your names, will not survive this loss."

Taking a better look at the battlefield, he found every one of his men on the battlefield dead. As he’d feared, the Red Army had pushed forward a few inches after the relentless attacks. It was only a matter of time before they came within range and struck his post from a distance.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The scene stirred a touch of anxiety in him. He didn’t let it bleed through his performance.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"People won’t remember your fear. They won’t remember your hesitation. But they will remember whether you stood... or whether you ran. And if you run, it won’t just be your life that ends, it will unravel everything connected to your name. Your friends, your loved ones... even those you despise most. All of them will carry your failure."

Proud and confident, he stood tall, as though his minions could actually see him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"You cannot choose whether this battle happens. That choice is already gone. But you can still choose what story is told when it ends."

He took a deep breath.

"Stand with me, not because you are fearless, but because you understand what will happen if you don’t."

If being bedridden for six years had taught him anything, it was that hope was fragile. There was no escape, and situations like these didn’t need hope. They needed movement.

He smiled.

"I didn’t realize it would work this effectively."

His soldiers were beginning to look motivated. The shivering in their boots had stopped, and the trembling weapons steadied, but based on the stories he’d read, Leomaris had expected jubilant laughter. Instead, they moved.

"Dispatch a thousand additional soldiers via the southern route to join the war at once."

The soldiers marched without hesitation. Using the cover of enemy attacks, they took a direct approach, and after putting some distance between them and the post, Leomaris directed them north toward the Red Army in the desert. A hundred of the same force, he sent southeast to the shore.

Soon enough, the desert erupted into a clash, and he could see clearly what his words had done. His soldiers’ spirits were lifted. They fought like their lives depended on it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Even so, his attention was pulled toward the troop he’d sent for the ambush. They’d walked the shores, reached barren land, and pressed on regardless. But just as he’d feared, every one of them was killed, save for two soldiers.

"I deliberately slowed those two minions to ensure they weren’t caught at the same time, and I believe I was right on the money."

This meant he was at least closer to the Red Base... the resistance was too concentrated for it to be anywhere else.

He ordered the hundred at the shore to quicken their pace immediately. The remaining two, closing in on the desert, he urged to be more elusive.

His attention went to the main battleground, and he loved what he saw. Soldiers lost limbs and kept going. Some bled with arrows and broken swords buried in them, and still they didn’t falter. They fought with everything they had.

"If the artifact falls for my bait, it will send at least two hundred men to engage my soldiers heading toward the barren land. However, given how fiercely my soldiers are fighting, it may become cautious and deploy even more."

His words were right on the money, but not entirely. Red minions appeared from nowhere and charged toward his soldiers. Hundred on hundred.

The two soldiers out front weren’t caught, though, and before long, they were in the desert, the sphere’s interface widening slightly.

Chills, then relief, both washing over Leomaris in quick succession. The soldiers had the Red Base in view. Sentinels patrolled the walls, and in the middle of the base stood a tower, the magic orb perched right at the top.

The desert battle was over. Every soldier he had in that fight was gone, but they’d managed to take down more than half of the Red Army before falling.

"Oh, wait... they’re stopping. I still have over a thousand soldiers at my base. Sending fewer than six hundred likely doesn’t seem like a good idea to the artifact ."

Leomaris stroked his chin, lost in thought.

"But it is, though... isn’t its main goal to destroy my base?"

The words had barely left him when something interesting caught his attention. Night was approaching, and better still, the Red Army was sending reinforcements.

The moment their gates swung open, Leomaris slipped his two elusive soldiers inside the Red Base. He wanted the desert to hold the Red Army’s attention, so he drew two hundred more from his base. The hundred who’d clashed with the Red Army in the barren lands had won, with thirty casualties, but it didn’t matter. He redirected them to the desert as well.

"That will do. Now, those in the barren land will face the Red Army reinforcements, while those from the base will strike at the Red’s main forces."

While the fighting held their attention... his elusive soldiers retrieved the magic orb.

A grin formed on his lips despite himself. One of the two soldiers was dead, but the other had escaped with the red orb, and that was what mattered.

The desperation in their flight was enough to satisfy him... then, suddenly, that smile faded.

His heart hammered as his eyes swept the battlefield. The Red Army hadn’t sent an army, just two soldiers. Two.

That was when the thought struck him. Did he have any control in this war at all? He’d retrieved the orb because he’d been permitted to. Every move he’d made was permitted.