Transmigrated as the Villain: I Will Destroy Fate

Chapter 158: Attack! [1]

The point activated beneath her hand. Light spread through the rune-marked stone before transferring into the node she held. The glow settled a moment later, a quiet confirmation of the claim.

Fourth reference point.

Grace exhaled slowly, the breath misting in the cool forest air.

This world was strange.

That thought had followed her since the moment she woke up inside the body of Grace Light.

She still could not explain how she had transmigrated into her own novel.

She could not explain why the world felt more complete than anything she wrote, filled with textures and scents and echoes she had never put on the page.

She could not explain why people she created from her room and typed on her keyboard breathed, thought, and suffered in ways she never planned.

But this exam confirmed something she had not wanted to accept.

This battle royale was not from the published story.

It was one of her scrapped ideas.

She remembered designing it completely. That was how she wrote, even if an event never made it into the novel, she still built the structure. Rules, terrain, scoring methods, and likely character routes. This selection exam had been one of those unused drafts, one that she decided not to use.

She had discarded it because it was too low-stakes. The easiest way to pass was simple, get a few eliminations, claim one or two capture points, and survive until the final contraction. Once a contestant secured enough points, there was no narrative reason to keep risking themselves. It made for a poor story.

But here it was. Real.

Grace looked down at the glowing node in her hand, a profound unease settling beneath her ribs.

For everyone else, this chaotic forest was a test of strength and endurance. For her, it was a map. She knew where the capture points were. She knew the contraction patterns, the safest routes, which areas became traps after the second boundary shift, and which landmarks were better abandoned early.

So she took the easiest path.

Her magic was not ideal for this. Light magic excelled against corruption, demons, and spiritual contamination. Against ordinary students, it lacked the simple brutality of fire or ice. But Grace knew the system. She had built it. She knew how to use light magic in such a way that it made it feel like an attacked based magic type. She knew what students expected holy magic to do, and more importantly, what they did not. That made these small fights easier than they should have been, as she could catch a lot of students off guard.

She moved toward the next inner route, light mana gathering faintly at her fingertips.

Then she saw them through the trees.

Iris Lockhart.

And Ronan Ashbourne.

Grace slowed, her steps becoming silent.

Ronan. The transmigrator. Probably. Maybe. The uncertainty was a tightening knot in her gut. She had never told him she was the author. During their interrupted conversation weeks ago, she had let him think she was just another reader, another person dragged into this world. It was safer.

A memory surfaced.

Ren, sitting with a book in his lap at the orphanage. He told her a quote about an oyster. The oyster opens it’s mouth on the full moon. When the crab sees this, he places a rock in it’s mouth, and the oyster becomes food for the crab. People who open their mouths too much, he had said, place themselves at the mercy of the listener.

She could not remember the title of the book he was reading. But she remembered the lesson.

So when she’d approached Ronan, she had deliberately let herself seem nervous. A controlled opening. A false weakness. If he truly was a reader, he would understand enough to be cautious. If he was something else, she would learn from his reaction.

She watched him now. Broken leg. Limping. Leaning on an ice walking stick Iris had clearly made. He looked toward Iris with visible, almost pathetic, gratitude.

An act? Maybe.

But it unsettled her. There had been a time, just after the Inter-Class War, when Grace thought the soul inside Ronan Ashbourne might be Ren. The eyes were too similar. The calmness too familiar. But the more days passed, the less likely it felt. Ren would not act like this. Not the Ren she knew. He was blunt, detached, and strange. He had never been good at performing normal emotions. He could lie by omission. He could stay silent. He could do terrible things with a straight face. But playing a helpless, grateful fiancé? That did not fit.

Then Grace remembered the day they were separated, the blankness in his eyes as he’d walked away. Her stomach tightened. She pushed the memory away.

She knew why she thought he was Ren, deep down.

Because she wanted him to be Ren.

She wanted to meet him again, to ask why he’d abandoned her. To ask why he’d done the things he’d done.

So she grasped at straws. The eyes probably weren’t even that similar, just her mind playing tricks on her and grasping at straws.

Grace steeled her mind.

She raised a hand in greeting, showing Iris she was not hostile.

Iris visibly relaxed. The reaction was almost cute. It also told Grace everything she needed to know.

Iris still hated her fiancé.

"What a surprise to see you both," Grace called out, her voice bright and harmless. She approached with a wide smile. "How are the points coming along?"

Iris answered first, her tone clipped. "A few eliminations. No capture points."

Ronan gave a resigned shrug. "None for me. I’m just trying not to get sent back to the hall."

Grace did not believe him.

She did not say so.

Instead, she gestured with her own glowing node. "Well, I have more than enough, so there’s no reason for us to fight. Iris, if you still need points, I’m happy to help for a while."

Iris looked at her in a way that was almost pleading. She didn’t need to say it aloud. Grace understood.

Please, just eliminate him for me, Iris seemed to convey without words.

Grace had to suppress a laugh.

Sadly, she could not do that. Ronan had not acted openly against her yet. He was suspicious and dangerous, but he was also potentially the only person in this world she could speak to honestly. If he was a transmigrator, he was valuable.

She needed to observe him longer. She needed to know what he wanted.

The three of them moved together in a tense, awkward silence. Iris led, not letting the clear irritation betray her expression. Ronan followed with his "broken leg". Grace stayed slightly to the side, watching both while pretending not to.

CRACK!

Then the world broke.