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

Spirit Realm Chronicles was a game full of smart, scheming, manipulative characters — some heroes, and others… not so much.

But amidst all the plotting and politics, three war prodigies stood above the rest — not just because of their strength, but because of how they thought.

They were sometimes called the Big Three by the players.

The first war prodigy was the future Grand Duchess of the North — Casey Torr Snowrite, the iron-willed tactician.

She was an exceptional genius who was said to be able to win a war without even needing to unsheath her blade.

To her, war was a game of probabilities, and she played the board like she owned it.

The second in the list was Sir Kaelron Vire, the boy who would one day be known as the Scarlet Knight.

That guy was a psychotic monster wrapped in human skin.

He built victories from rubble and turned defeats into ambushes.

His soldiers feared him.

His enemies despised him.

And anyone who managed to survive a fight with him once by some miracle… never wanted to face him again.

Now, canonically, the third war prodigy should have been Princess Alice Vic Draken.

She was one of the most gifted strategists of her generation.

A warrior of both mind and blade.

But unfortunately, she was killed by the Crimson Guild along with her twin brother.

So, instead, the third place fell to...

Juliana Vox Blade, the Dreadful Butcheress.

She wasn't as well-versed in war games as Casey, nor did she set up twisted traps like Kaelron.

No — Juliana was different.

Because she had one thing the others didn't.

Something that couldn't be taught, or trained, or passed down like sharp instincts.

…It was adaptability.

Juliana Vox Blade was supremely adaptable.

She never panicked when the unexpected happened.

Never froze when faced with chaos.

Never gave up when the odds turned against her.

That was her biggest strength.

She could immediately adapt to any given situation.

When the map changed, she redrew it in her mind.

When the plan failed, she adjusted before anyone else even realized it had.

And when all hope was lost — when every tactic had collapsed and every soldier had fallen — that's when Juliana shined the brightest.

So, basically, what I'm trying to say is…If you ever find yourself in a horrifying, no-win scenario — like, say, being surrounded by undead fire monsters as your peers get slaughtered left and right — you go to Juliana.

Because when everything has turned to hell and everyone's back is cornered, she will be the one person who can still carve out a way to survive.

So that's what I did.

I went to her.

Or, well — more specifically — I brought her with me and asked her to come up with a way to bring that one-eyed giant down.

Michael had assured us he could kill it in a single blow… as long as he could land a clean hit on its eye.

But the problem was that damn cyclops was eighteen feet tall and covered in volcanic armor thicker than my patience for this day to be over.

The wind howled in the distance.

Flames licked the cracked earth.

Smoke curled in thick plumes around the cyclops' hulking frame as its single blazing eye scanned the carnage with primal hunger.

I was standing at a safe distance for now.

Michael was the one taking the real risk.

He was moving across the battlefield, approaching the cyclops head-on.

"I don't like this plan," I sighed to myself.

Not because it was dangerous.

If everything went smoothly, I wouldn't even have to raise a finger.

But Michael, on the other hand, was marching straight toward death armed with nothing but blind faith and a cursed sword.

And as much as I'd love to say I didn't care if anything happened to him… I still needed him alive.

Without him, saving this godforsaken world would go from barely manageable to laughably impossible.

Meanwhile, Juliana had retreated far away from here to the center of the battlefield, where the Healers and Supporters had gathered.

I wanted to accuse her of running — but deep down, I knew what she was doing was just as crucial, especially if the second step of the plan failed.

But that still didn't mean she wasn't being a coward.

"I'll get back at her if I survive this," I promised myself.

And then, right on cue, Michael began executing our not-so-brilliant strategy.

Step one was simple — draw the beast away.

To do that, Michael had copied some poor Support kid's Origin Card called «Taunt».

It'd make him a monster magnet that drew aggression of mindless creatures like honey draws flies.

But here's where it gets better — that kid was only a [C-rank].

And Michael was now a [B-rank].

So he could upgrade any ability he copied from someone below his level.

That was a new addition to his power.

Not only could he copy, but also elevate low-ranked powers.

So instead of attracting every monster in the area, the upgraded version of «Taunt» let him focus its effect on a single target.

And the moment he activated it, the result was immediate.

The cyclops' burning eye snapped to him like a spotlight locking onto a cockroach.

It let out a guttural roar — then fired a searing beam of fire from its eye.

Michael dove to the side, narrowly dodging as the laser sliced through the plaza, melting stone like butter and carving a deep black scar across the ground.

I winced.

That would've incinerated him.

The cyclops adjusted its aim and fired again.

Michael spun on his heel and sprinted sideways, barely escaping as the second beam scorched past.

He was either laughing or screaming, but he's too far away to tell.

The beast fired off a few more beams in rapid succession before finally stopping.

It was just as we'd hoped — the cyclops needed time to cool down between attacks.

Michael immediately seized the opportunity.

He slashed his sword through the air, launching crescent arcs of darkness from the blade.

The cyclops raised its massive club and blocked them easily.

Michael fired a few more times, but they had the same effect and did almost no damage.

Which, frankly, was perfect.

The goal wasn't to hurt it.

It was to piss it off.

The cyclops roared again, louder this time.

It stomped forward.

Once.

Then twice.

My heart thudded behind my ribs as I watched from the edge of the battlefield.

And just as it took a third step—Michael shouted, "Samael!

Now!

"And so began step two of the plan.