Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

Paula stood slowly, dripping bile and black blood, but the wrongness of how she looked didn’t come from her wounds – it came from the way her empty eyes tracked the room casually. As if she were documenting a crime scene.

Ronan watched.

Maren stayed frozen near Emma’s corpse, tears still wet on her face.

Aura shifted into a combat stance, demonic energy flickering around her fingers.

Paula’s head tilted, studying them with unnatural patience.

Then her mouth opened.

And a man’s voice emerged.

"Foolish, Paula. Truly foolish."

The words carried weight, not because of any actual mana behind them, but because of some hidden authority.

Ronan’s mind accelerated.

Clearly some kind of possession. Remote control. This entity strong enough to override a corpse and maintain coherence from distance.

Paula’s – no, the entity’s – gaze swept the ruined chamber, cataloging everything. Torn bodies, burned offerings, and the shattered basin still leaking cultist blood across stone.

"She was not nearly thorough enough to handle a task like this," the voice continued, almost conversational. "I leave her one simple instruction, and she manages to botch even that."

Ronan processed.

This is a demon. Has to be. Human magic doesn’t work like this. Remote body hijacking isn’t standard possession – it’s projection of some kind, a specialty of demons.

Which means the person speaking is elsewhere. Possibly very far elsewhere.

It also means he’s not scared of us.

Because he thinks he can kill us easily, likely. He hasn’t even addressed any of us yet.

Aura hadn’t moved.

She stood completely still, staring at Paula’s hijacked body.

Frozen.

Not in fear.

Recognition.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed.

She knows him. Or at least recognizes him.

The entity’s gaze shifted toward Aura now, studying her with sudden interest.

"Oh?"

The single syllable carried surprise.

Genuine surprise.

Paula’s body stepped forward, movements too smooth for someone that should be dead.

"A demon. Here. In the human realm."

The voice sharpened.

"How unexpected."

Aura’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t speak.

The entity tilted Paula’s head, examining Aura more closely.

"Those horns... they curve inward. Distinctive. I’ve seen that pattern before."

A pause.

Then–

"You’re from the Acheron bloodline."

Ronan’s thoughts raced.

He recognized her family by horn shape alone. Which means he’s high-ranking. Older. Connected to demon nobility.

Before the demon could continue, Aura moved.

"Violet Garden."

Thorns erupted from her palms and impaled Paula’s body from six different angles, puncturing through chest, stomach, shoulders.

Black blood sprayed.

Paula’s body jerked.

But the demon didn’t scream.

Didn’t even flinch.

He just tilted his head slightly, as if mildly curious about the attack.

"Ah. There it is."

The voice remained calm.

Almost amused.

"I recognize you now."

Paula’s ruined lips curved into a smile that didn’t belong on a corpse.

"You’re Helena Acheron’s daughter."

Ronan’s eyes widened.

Helena. Aura’s mother.

The demon continued, tone shifting into something almost mocking.

"I didn’t know your mother well, but your father was a good friend. I heard of your family’s... passing. My condolences."

The insincerity dripped from every word. It sounded almost mocking.

Aura snarled.

Her demonic energy flared – violet light bursting around her violently.

She twisted the thorns embedded in Paula’s body, tearing flesh and bone.

"Mesmer," she spat.

The name came out like poison.

Ronan froze.

Mesmer?

He recognized the name. How could he not. In the novel he was a major antagonist. A rank 6 sealed demon.

The one who leads the possessed demon army against the Academy in the original novel.

The one who destroys Luminara from within.

His mind spun.

In the novel, it was never explained how Mesmer smuggled demons into human territory. Or how he turned so many demons into mindless puppets willing to die for him.

Was this it?

Was this ritual some kind of conversion process? Turning humans into demons? Or preparing vessels for possession?

Mesmer chuckled, the sound wet and wrong coming from Paula’s throat.

"You know my name? I’m surprised. My identity should be a secret to most demons."

He paused.

"But I suppose the Acheron family was quite powerful in Alvia. Before the elves erased you, of course."

Aura’s rage intensified.

She pulled the thorns back and prepared another strike–

But Mesmer spoke first.

"I don’t have much time left in this body. I’m quite far away, you see. So let’s make this quick."

He raised Paula’s ruined arm.

Black tendrils – thicker, darker, wronger than Aura’s violet energy – slithered out from the sleeve.

They moved like living things.

Snakes made of pure shadow from the looks of it. They seemed to suck the light out of everything.

Aura lunged.

But the tendrils were faster.

They wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, her throat – binding her completely before she could channel another spell.

Then they slammed her into the stone wall.

Hard.

The impact cracked the stone.

Aura’s eyes rolled back.

She went limp.

Unconscious.

Ronan’s heart pounded.

Shit. If Aura was taken out that easily, I’m fucked.

Mesmer turned toward him and Maren.

Paula’s dead eyes locked onto them.

The demon smiled.

"Now then."

He stepped forward.

"Let’s deal with the humans first. Then I’ll have a proper conversation with the little Acheron girl."

Ronan’s thoughts raced.

I can’t beat him. Not even a chance. Mesmer’s rank 6, sealed or not. The body he’s wearing barely holds peak rank 3 strength at least, and that’s still leagues beyond me.

But perhaps–

Perhaps this isn’t completely hopeless.

Ronan adjusted his posture, straightening despite the wrongness crawling through Paula’s hijacked corpse.

I know his goal. Destroy Luminara. I don’t know why yet, but that’s the endgame. And I’m a Luminara student. That makes me potentially valuable to him. I should try to negotiate with him.

Aura seemed to hate this man, but that didn’t matter. He was about to die, he could forsake Aura if need be.

He opened his mouth to speak—

But Mesmer beat him to it.

"Interesting."

The demon’s voice slowed, turning suddenly cautious.

Paula’s ruined head tilted, studying Ronan with sudden attention that felt different from the casual curiosity directed at Aura.

This felt more targeted

"I didn’t notice it before."

The words came slower now. More careful.

"But I notice it now."

Ronan’s breath caught.

What–?

Mesmer disappeared.

One moment Paula’s corpse stood across the chamber, looking down on everything.

The next, she appeared directly in front of Ronan, close enough that he smelled rot and copper.

Ronan’s body locked.

He wanted to move – needed to flee – but his legs refused the command.

Fear flooded him, primal and overwhelming, drowning rational thought beneath instinct screaming run run RUN–

Paula’s finger traced down Ronan’s chest.

Slowly and deliberately.

The touch left cold trails across his skin, and Ronan’s heartbeat hammered–

Every single fiber of his being was telling him he needed to get out of this situation.

Mesmer’s expression shifted.

Curiosity replaced caution.

He tilted Paula’s head, studying Ronan like a specimen under glass.

"A demon parasite."

The demon muttered to himself now, voice distant.

Analytical.

"I’ve never seen one this powerful before."

His finger pressed harder against Ronan’s chest, right where the second heart pulsed beneath skin and bone.

"They usually cap out at rank 3. I’ve only heard stories of one rank 4, and I didn’t believe even that when I heard it."

Mesmer’s eyes – Paula’s dead eyes – narrowed.

"But rank 5?"

He paused.

"That should be unheard of."

Ronan’s mind spun.

Shit. Shit shit shit–

This was worse than exposure.

Worse than being caught by the Academy.

Mesmer continued speaking, voice growing sharper.

"If this parasite completes its assimilation..."

He withdrew his hand, stepping back slightly.

"The results could be devastating."

Another pause.

"Perhaps even enough to interfere with our plans."

Ronan’s blood ran cold.

No.

No no no–

I can’t be seen as a threat.

If Mesmer viewed him as dangerous – as something that could disrupt whatever the demons planned for Luminara – then there would be no negotiation.

No bargaining.

No survival.

Only elimination.

Ronan tried to speak.

His mouth opened–

But no words came.

His throat closed, breath trapped, voice stolen by whatever mental pressure Mesmer pressed against him.

And unlike Vulcan’s attack, the parasite didn’t help him block this one.

Psychological attack.

Ronan recognized it intellectually.

Fear manipulation. Not real. Just mana distorting perception–

But knowing that the fear was artificial changed nothing.

The terror intensified anyway, crushing rational thought beneath animalistic panic.

His heartbeat moved faster.

Both of them.

The human heart and the demonic one, pounding in terrible rhythm.

Then–

Pain.

A black tendril erupted from Paula’s sleeve and struck Ronan’s chest with impossible speed.

The impact shattered every rib at once.

Bone cracked – loud, painful snaps echoing through the underground chamber.

Ronan’s vision whited out.

He couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t process anything beyond the overwhelming agony radiating through his torso.

The tendril withdrew.

Ronan collapsed.

His knees hit stone first, then his hands, then his face as his body gave out completely.

Blood filled his mouth.

Warm.

Metallic.

Can’t breathe–

Every attempt to inhale sent fresh waves of pain through his shattered chest.

Ribs punctured. His heart which was beating so fast earlier was slowing down now.

Dying–

Mesmer crouched beside him, Paula’s corpse folding into an unnatural squat.

"Apologies."

The demon’s voice carried no actual regret.

"But I can’t allow a variable this dangerous to mature."

Ronan’s vision darkened at the edges.

He tried to move – to activate Stealth, to channel mana, to do something–

But his body refused.

Everything hurt too much.

Mesmer raised Paula’s hand, preparing another strike.

"I’ll make this quick."

The black tendril gathered again, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

"You won’t even feel–"

A violet thorn pierced through Paula’s throat.