A Villain's Survival Guide

This was a world of swords, firearms, and magic. All three, weapons of choice. And Leomaris had every intention of claiming all of them.

His past life had been shaped by detective parents, he’d wanted to be one himself. So in a world where firearms were a weapon of choice, getting to wield one again thrilled him more than he’d let on.

The setting leaned toward the Victorian Era, though it wasn’t quite the Victorian Era Leomaris knew. It was simply the closest reference that came to mind. The sun carried a slight reddish tint, and magic existed, rare as it was.

Leomaris was out of his seat the moment breakfast was over, as though his hat were on fire. He pulled Sebastian aside and brought him out to the backyard lawn without delay.

The backyard was where they all trained, the firearms were simply too explosive to use anywhere else. Wooden dummies lined the distance, serving as targets, and Leomaris had no doubt he’d hit every last one.

He held a golden double-action revolver and stood about ten metres from the target. Behind him, Sebastian spoke, offering instructions, as though Leomaris needed them.

"Double-action is slightly different from the usual single-action. I chose this specifically because it is faster, easier to carry, and safer. However, you must not rush... the trigger requires more force to pull."

Leomaris didn’t spare him so much as a glance. His eyes stayed fixed on the target, he had rather more pressing matters to attend to, namely getting used to his new body.

From the moment Sebastian handed him a double-action revolver, Leomaris saw right through it, the old man wanted him to fail. He’d given up on training him before it had even begun, and Leomaris understood why, to some extent. The old Leomaris had been insufferable enough to warrant it.

That didn’t make it any less frustrating. Double-action revolvers had speed, durability, and were perfectly safe to carry; admirable qualities in the right hands.

For a beginner, however, it was the worst possible starting point. Too complex, too inaccurate, and with a trigger stiff enough that the fatigue from repeated shooting alone would drive most people to quit.

Even so, he was still waiting on Sebastian’s instructions, though. Swordsmanship required guidance, and Sebastian was his best option.

That unease hadn’t left either; the sense of being watched. If someone was watching, then obedience was the safest performance he could give.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Once you think you’ve got the target, pull the trigger. Don’t worry if you miss, this is only the beginning."

"Uh-huh..."

BANG

BANG

BANG

Click... click... click

Sebastian had barely finished speaking. Leomaris had already pulled the trigger three times, clicking the revolver like he was disappointed there weren’t more bullets to burn through.

Sebastian stood there, mouth parted in shock. Leomaris hadn’t missed once. What was stranger still, he wasn’t celebrating. He was inspecting the revolver, annoyed that there was nothing left to fire.

Meanwhile, on the second floor of the building behind them, Rosemary stood at the window, watching her son. No smile. Not even a soft one. And the moment those shots were fired, she was gone.

Leomaris turned to Sebastian, a frown already set. He hadn’t fired a single bullet in five years. Three was an insult.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Why only three bullets? I thought we were here to learn."

A bead of sweat ran down Sebastian’s brow as he bowed, just slightly. It was the first genuine respect he had shown Leomaris in over a decade.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"My apologies, young master. Ammunition for double-action revolvers is hard to come by. We have ordered some from Wexford Vale, and it should arrive shortly. I will fetch a single-action at once."

Sebastian hurried away. Leomaris watched him go, and the frustration over the fire slowly died down. Something from the novel had just come to mind.

Double-action revolvers were rare. The author of Arcane Mercenary had only brought it up once, in the scene where Lucius killed the man who murdered his parents. The man he’d still considered family. It wasn’t about firing more. It was about how difficult they were to craft.

Single and double-action shared the same bullets in his previous world, which meant he’d never had reason to grow particular about either.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Soon enough, Sebastian came back, single-action revolver in hand. Whatever had rattled him before seemed to have settled... he was gentler now, calmer.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Leomaris took the firearm at first glance and began shooting.

"You are remarkably skilled at this, young master. I cannot even shoot with such precision. Even trained soldiers might struggle to achieve this level of accuracy at such a distance. Why ask me to train you if you were already this capable?"

"I truly required your assistance. This is my first attempt... I merely happen to be good at it, that’s all. That will not be enough to grant me the experience you have honed over the years. My mother has entrusted you with her life for over twenty-five years. I do not believe that is something I can easily acquire." 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Sebastian’s lips pulled into a soft smile. It lasted only a second before a quiet sigh followed.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"I do not believe there is anything I can teach you, young master. Do not misunderstand... you may be skilled at shooting, but that does not mean you will survive against magic users or seasoned soldiers. Experience is not something I can teach you here. You will have to gain that yourself."

Leomaris finally lowered the revolver and gave Sebastian his attention. The original Leomaris had known very little about him, their relationship was too distorted to offer much.

Sebastian hadn’t been mentioned in the novel at all. Only the Runerths ever were.

Even so, there was something about Sebastian. His presence carried the weight of experience. If Leomaris were to guess, he’d put his money on mercenary. Or a fallen knight.

’It would be wise to learn from him. If my timing is correct, Lucius’s days as a mercenary are over. He has likely acquired a grimoire from the Blue Tower and is preparing for the academy. I must grow stronger as well, bullets will be useless against him.’

It wouldn’t prove his worth to the family, and it certainly was about personal safety. But training would shift the narrative. Tell a different story about him, one that left them no room to look away when he proved his worth.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Leomaris shook himself out of his thoughts, caught Sebastian’s attention, and began learning how to wield a sword.

Rosemary was back at the window. She wasn’t alone this time. Below her, leaning against the wall, was Samael, Leomaris’s older brother.

Samael watched him below, a faint smile tugging at his lips, not of amusement, but recognition.

Like something was stirring. And he knew what.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Out in the city somewhere, something was taking shape.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A cluster of men gathered at the pub’s centre, curiously untouched by the din of rat-baiting, nor the lure of drink, smoke, or easy vice. They hadn’t come for any of that. These were men tempered in something far less forgiving than habit. It was something closer to fury.

Behind the counter, the bartender moved with quiet precision, cloth gliding over the wood as though the noise around him simply did not exist. His expression was steady and when he spoke, his voice carried without effort.

"Word is, the Duke’s left the city."

Something in the atmosphere shifted.

"If that’s true, then now’s the moment to strike where it cuts deepest. Funny thing, though... that drug should’ve finished him."

He paused.

"But it didn’t."

His eyes flicked upward then, just for a second, long enough to suggest he knew more than he ought.

"He is blasphemous, a disgrace to the Firstlight Goddess. An abomination. A vile soul who delights in the suffering of others, and we have all been his victims...

"We must not let this opportunity pass us by. Before the Duke returns, the bastard must answer for his sins."

One of the men shifted in his seat. Another tightened his grip on the table’s edge.

The bartender resumed wiping the counter.

Then, without warning, a chair scraped loud across the floor. Every eye in the room turned toward it. When the bartender’s gaze landed on the man behind the sound, no explanation was needed. They’d already started.