Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

Ronan grabbed the captured student’s arm and twisted.

The bone snapped.

The boy screamed, collapsing forward as Ronan released him and shoved him aside.

He hit the dirt hard, clutching his broken arm while tears ran down his ash covered face.

Elara winced. But she didn’t say anything, swallowing the protest she wanted to voice.

Not the time.

She turned to Ronan.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Reddy’s faction." Ronan’s voice stayed level despite the blood on his jaw. "They hit us twenty minutes after you left."

Elara’s stomach dropped. "Reddy’s–"

"Armani didn’t come." Ronan gestured toward the burning supply tent. "Probably doesn’t know about this either."

Around them, Class B students fought desperately to hold the perimeter while flames consumed half the camp.

Sapphire’s runes flickered weakly, broken in too many places to stabilize.

"How bad?" Elara demanded.

"We’re holding." Ronan met her eyes. "We were holding them off, but they had the upper hand. Now you’re back, and we should beat them I hope."

Elara stared at him. "You’re saying we were on equal footing?"

"Close enough." Ronan wiped blood from his mouth. "We were able to fend off."

That shouldn’t have been possible.

Class A students were stronger on average, better trained, and Reddy had clearly planned this.

But Class B hadn’t collapsed.

Elara knew the answer. Sapphire and her runes. They were so meticulously made, so perfect, and that was the reason that class B was able to survive this long.

And she’d used her as a bargaining chip, and forced her to create 6 runes for class A.

The same class A who had just attacked them and destroyed all of her hard work.

That was unacceptable.

Elara forced herself to focus. "Do we know why they attacked?"

"Not confirmed." Ronan’s expression darkened slightly. "But I’m suspecting an information leak. Someone in our class."

"Information leak!? Who?"

"Who else?" Ronan asked, and his voice was laced with rare annoyance. "The person who stole the node in the first place. The traitor."

Elara flinched.

Of course.

She’d been so focused on stabilizing the class after Darius’s capture, on managing morale and preventing collapse, that she hadn’t thought–

"Damn it," she muttered. "I should’ve–"

"Sorry."

The word stopped her cold.

Ronan’s tone shifted, softer than she’d ever heard from him.

"This is technically my fault," he continued. "I told you not to investigate. I thought avoiding the hunt would keep the class together, but–" He exhaled sharply. "I was wrong."

Elara stared at him.

Ronan never apologized.

He deflected, redirected, dismissed, insulted, but he didn’t apologize.

And now he sounded almost... defeated.

He feels this way too.

The realization hit her hard, even though it shouldn’t have.

She’d spent days terrified of making the wrong call, of failing the class, of being compared to Darius and found lacking.

She thought she was alone in that.

"You’re wrong," Elara said firmly.

Ronan glanced at her, frustration leaving his face.

"I agreed with your reasoning," she continued. "We both thought investigating would cause more damage than the theft itself. That’s not on you alone."

Ronan’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, a stray fireball screamed toward them from the left.

Elara threw up her hand.

Mana surged. Her barrier snapped into place just before the fireball hit, deflecting it into the dirt where it exploded harmlessly.

She turned back to Ronan, expression hardening.

"This is no time for sulking." Her voice carried the blunt force she’d learned from Darius. "We need to figure out the current situation first."

I miscalculated.

Ronan looked down at Reddy with a frown.

How pathetic.

Class B had suffered losses – tents burned, Sapphire’s runes destroyed – but Reddy’s faction had brought more students than the base originally held, and they’d still barely managed a draw until reinforcements arrived.

Ronan had even set fires himself to create openings, thinking the chaos would help Reddy press harder.

It hadn’t.

Reddy and his team fought like they’d never coordinated an assault before, wasting momentum on obvious targets while ignoring the defensive gaps Ronan deliberately left exposed.

I gave you everything, Ronan thought, irritation creeping in. And you still couldn’t capitalize.

But it didn’t matter.

The real goal wasn’t destroying Class B. It was pushing them into action against Class A.

And for that, Reddy’s mediocre performance worked just fine.

Ronan had leaked the information to Reddy himself, wearing the Hare mask and using enough misdirection that Reddy would never trace it back.

Armani didn’t know about this attack – Ronan made sure of that – which meant Class A’s leadership would be blindsided when Elara inevitably retaliated.

Reddy glared up at him, hands bound, face twisted with rage.

"You’re pathetic," Reddy spat. "Born into the equivalent of royalty. Ashbourne blood, Ashbourne wealth, Ashbourne name. And you’re still worthless." His voice rose, venom dripping from every word. "You had everything handed to you, and you wasted it. You’re lazy, arrogant, talentless – everything wrong with nobles like you. I hate people like you. You don’t deserve what you have. You never did."

Ronan stared down at him, expression blank.

Internally, he found the rant mildly amusing.

He was sure the original Ronan heard it countless times.

It was at times like these that Ronan was really curious on how the original Ronan was really like.

Was he the type to get angry hearing this, or did he also just not care?

Ronan wanted to make fun of him and make him more angry.

But Elara was watching, and he had an act to sell.

Ronan’s face twisted into a snarl. He stepped forward and kicked Reddy hard in the ribs.

Something cracked.

Reddy gasped, doubling over, and Ronan grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back.

"Shut up," Ronan growled. "You’ll stay quiet until we bring you to Armani for questioning. Understood?"

Reddy wheezed, eyes watering, but managed a defiant glare.

Elara stepped between them, hand raised.

"Ronan. Calm down." Her tone was firm but not harsh. "I’ll take it from here."

Ronan scoffed but released Reddy’s hair, letting him collapse forward into the dirt.

"Fine."

He turned and walked away, leaving Elara to handle the prisoner.

As he moved through the camp, his boot caught a small pebble. It skittered across the ground, bounced off a root, rolled into a puddle, and sent ripples spreading outward in perfect, widening circles.

Ronan watched the ripples expand.

One stone can cause so many waves.

He thought of Adam’s leadership, of Class D fracturing under internal resentment, of Elara stepping into leadership she wasn’t ready for, of Reddy’s faction breaking their own alliance without realizing they’d been pushed.

His smile returned as he crouched down and watched the ripples continue to persist even after several long seconds.

I wonder what Grace is doing right now.