Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

“Get back up! Get in position! Do not panic!” I yelled as loudly as I could from atop the ledge of the spire, my voice still amplified.

But through the chaos of mingled screams, cries, shrieks, and roars… no one listened.

I couldn’t blame them for not paying attention, since most of them were running or fighting for their lives.

But I could definitely blame them for crying and panicking and praying instead of assisting the ones who were fighting.

I mean, seriously — what the hell was praying supposed to accomplish right now?!

I barely resisted the urge to start cursing again.

This won’t do.

“I have to get their attention,” I thought out loud.

Then sighed.

This was going to be too much work.

But since I had no intention of dying today… I had to do it.

I took a step forward and plummeted down from the spire, landing with a soft thump.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took out my golden sword and began moving.

A low insectile shriek pierced the air as a lesser-Solbraith with obsidian mandibles lunged from my left, fangs wide, dripping molten saliva.

I pivoted mid-step and drove my blade through its neck, twisting sharply as liquid fire burst out from the wound.

The beast collapsed, sizzling.

But in the very next moment, the wound I had dealt it started to close. Its muscle knit. Flesh reformed. And fire pulsed under its charred skin.

Before my very eyes, it was standing back up again.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes. “I forgot these things were nigh-immortal.”

Since killing was off the table, I activated my Origin Card.

Two giant stone hands burst from the ground. They grabbed the creature, crushed it with a sickening crunch, and hurled its body away like a crumpled ball of paper.

I exhaled, catching my breath… and spotted a Cadet just a few steps away, frozen in shock.

She was on her knees, blood pouring from a deep gash in her side. Her arm hung limp. Her body trembled like a leaf caught in a storm.

“Move!” I barked at her.

She turned to me and flinched.

When she didn’t respond quickly enough, I stormed over, grabbed her collar, and shoved her toward a nearby team leader who was gathering survivors.

“Go there! Stick with groups! Don’t run around in panic!” I told her.

I didn’t wait to see if she obeyed.

Because I was already moving again.

Not even a few seconds later, I ducked under a flaming tentacle, slashed a worm-like Solbraith in half as it pounced, and kept running.

Very soon, my eyes locked on the western edge of the plaza — where the real threat was.

A smoldering giant, easily eighteen feet tall, stood like a mountain of ash and fire.

Its skin was charred and peeling, flaking off in molten sheets with every movement — revealing liquid flame coursing beneath like lava through fractured rock.

And in the center of its cracked, twisted face was a single burning eye that glowed like the mouth of a volcano.

Then it moved.

The behemoth raised its massive club — a fused chunk of dark metal and stone larger than a bus — and brought it crashing down.

The impact was apocalyptic.

Dozens of Cadets were flattened instantly — reduced to mangled, unrecognizable piles of blood and bone.

Nearby buildings crumbled beneath the force.

Blood sprayed like mist. Concrete and debris rained from the sky like meteor shards.

Even from dozens of meters away, I still felt the shockwave from that attack.

That beast was already a problem.

Its size was a nightmare.

Its strength made it extremely dangerous.

But then… things got even worse.

The one-eyed giant straightened its back and… fired a focused beam of fire from its singular eye that sliced through stone and steel like paper.

Two Cadets caught in it dissolved mid-scream — their flesh vaporizing and bones turning to ash.

The rest scattered like ants.

Most were running. A few tried to fight.

Many got squashed again — their bodies squashed like bugs, reduced to pulp and sprays of red mist.

Blood hit the broken ground in hot splashes. Crushed limbs twitched. Guts spilled out like split sacks of meat.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a human get crushed like a pest, but all that gore and splattered meat, the bloodied chunks of what had been living, breathing people just moments ago…

It was a harrowing sight.

I almost threw up.

Many actually did.

‘Bad! This is bad!’ I gritted my teeth.

That thing was going to level the entire plaza if it wasn’t stopped.

And we were in an open killing field.

All the Cadets were either wounded, bleeding, terrified, or barely standing.

Nobody here was in shape to take on hordes of immortal Spirit Beasts head-on.

Especially not when we had no cover.

No bottlenecks.

Nowhere to fall back.

Just trapped in an open field.

Sooner or later, we were all going to die.

Which meant we had to move. Fast.

But of course, by some sheer stroke of luck, the smoldering one-eyed giant was blocking the eastern exit — the shortest route out of the ruins and toward the Night Castle.

I looked around again and saw that the northern and southern exits were also blocked by some colossal monsters.

Squat titans with molten veins crawling under their skin.

Insectoid creatures with burning eyes and clawed legs thick as spears.

Things that didn’t look like they should be alive — and yet very clearly were.

I involuntarily shuddered upon realizing something.

This wasn’t random.

No, this was intentional.

This was tactical.

These beasts were corralling us. Cornering us. Caging us in for the kill.

Lesser-Solbraiths weren’t just mindless horrors — they were working together to cut off our every path out.

We were the cattle and this plaza was the slaughterhouse.

We needed to break through.

If we could just make it out of the ruins, we might stand a chance.

Outside, the Sentries would be mobilized. They’d be fighting and evacuating civilians to safety.

If we could just reach them, we’d be safe for long enough for Selene to start teleporting us out to the nearest Sanctuary — my father’s domain.

But none of that was going to matter unless we dealt with the laser-eyed cyclops standing in our way.

I tightened my grip on Aurieth. Cursed once again. Then I ran.

I sidestepped the lunging fangs of a serpent-shaped Solbraith.

Leapt over a collapsed spire.

Slid under another flaming tendril that hissed through the air like a whip.

I dodged and evaded the monsters like I had been doing all day and kept running.

The cyclops loomed ahead — a burning silhouette of molten skin and volcanic fury. It raised its club again and was about to bring it down on a group of Cadets too slow to get away.

They didn’t even look up in time.

I knew I had only a second. Maybe less.

I poured Essence into my sword. The runes along the golden blade ignited. Then I pointed it forward.

From its tip, a column of blinding radiance burst out — a piercing beam that shot through the air and slammed against the cyclops’s club.

It hit with force.

Not enough to stop the swing.

But enough to nudge it off-course.

The one-eyed giant’s weapon smashed into the ground just beside the Cadets instead of directly on them — close enough to leave their ears ringing and bones rattling, but not enough to kill.

The impact shook the plaza like a localized earthquake.

Stone split open.

A fissure ripped down the length of the square.

Dust and broken debris shot into the sky in thick clouds.

The Cadets were still alive, thankfully.

Some scrambled and ran, others were thrown off their feet, dazed and crawling.

But I didn’t have time to worry about them.

Because in the very next instant…

The cyclops turned toward me. Its singular eye locked onto mine. Its entire body went rigid.

And then it let out a low, grinding growl — deep and wet and vibrating through the air like molten gravel being dragged across glass.

It sounded angry.

And it looked like it was about to rush at me.

But just as it took one foot off the ground, a massive hand — made of stone and earth — slammed into its side like a battering ram and hurled it sideways, straight through a half-standing building.

The impact was brutal.

The building collapsed instantly, swallowed whole by the sheer force of the cyclops’s weight. A plume of dust, shattered rebar, and flames exploded everywhere.

The ground trembled as the beast crashed down, skidding through ground steel, leaving behind a molten trench — like a meteor had carved a path of ruin through the plaza.

I took that fleeting second to catch my breath and glanced around.

Visibility was still terrible.

Smoke choked the air. Explosions rumbled through the ground. And the night sky above was still shrouded in black thunderclouds laced with violet lightning.

But even so, the plaza was lit by fire and flashes illuminated the ongoing chaos in short, strobe-like bursts.

The Cadets were still scattered.

Some had rallied and were fighting furiously.

But most weren’t.

Too many were still on their knees. Frozen. Crying. Bleeding. Staring at nothing.

Some were whispering prayers through split lips.

Others screamed and ran, knocking into each other like startled prey.

And that just pissed me off.

I amplified my voice again, sharper this time, and yelled once again, “Brawlers! Take vanguard! Make your way toward the eastern exit! Plow through anything in your way! Supporters stay behind the frontlines and assist them! Scouts watch flanks! Casters and archers stay in the middle and attack both rear and front! Stop panicking and get into positions! Once we’re out of here, we’ll survive! We are the hunters here — they are the beasts! So act like one!”

The giant I had slammed down was starting to push back.

The massive earthen hand I conjured shook violently, cracks spreading across its fingers as the cyclops forced itself upward.

I cursed and turned back toward the field. “Get up and fall into positions! Get up and fight! Because if I see any of you praying again — I’ll make sure you meet whatever god you’re praying to!”

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