A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

”...Andras?”

Seraphina’s voice reached him from behind.

He heard her, but he didn’t turn. His attention remained fixed on the demon before him, whose elongated claws pressed against his sword with enough force to crack the stone beneath his boots.

He had arrived in time to stop the killing blow.

Now he had to survive.

System. Show me its status.

A familiar chime echoed in his mind.

[Ding!]

[Name: Draegor]

[Race: Demon]

[Age: 41]

[Class: Warrior]

[Bloodline: Lesser Abyssal Bloodline (B-Rank)]

[Realm: Low Fifth Circle Warrior]

[Talent: Abyssal Reach (B-Rank)]

Andras’s gaze lingered on the final line.

Abyssal Reach.

The talent explained the demon’s unnaturally long limbs. It could extend its arms beyond their normal length and alter the angle of its attacks mid-swing, making its effective range difficult to predict.

Combined with its bloodline reinforcement, the ability made Draegor dangerous even to an opponent in peak condition. Its changing reach could turn a successful dodge into a fatal mistake.

Seraphina had fought it while injured and nearly out of mana. The fact that she had managed to damage one of its joints under those conditions spoke to her skill, not a failure on her part.

Unfortunately, Draegor still had more than enough strength to kill him.

I almost lost my fiancée.

The thought surfaced without changing his expression.

He pushed it aside. Seraphina was alive, though barely able to stand.

Andras tightened his grip on his sword.

Draegor withdrew its claws and stepped back, its gaze moving over him with open amusement.

”So you’re the one who interrupted.”

Andras remained silent.

The demon’s eyes settled on the blood soaking through his uniform.

”You’re in no condition to fight. Your breathing is uneven, your wounds are bleeding again, and you can barely keep that sword steady.”

Its grin widened.

”Tell me, human. Do you honestly believe you can protect her?”

Andras met its gaze with cold violet eyes.

”Try me.”

For a moment, Draegor stared at him. Then it burst into laughter.

”Very well. Let’s see how long that confidence lasts.”

Dark mana surged through its body. The veins along its elongated arms bulged as its muscles tightened, and the pressure filling the corridor intensified. Dust trembled loose from the cracked ceiling, drifting through the air between them.

The demon had been holding back.

Whether it had underestimated Seraphina or simply enjoyed prolonging her suffering, that restraint was gone now. Andras felt the sudden increase in pressure through Echo Resonance. Draegor’s next attack would be faster and heavier.

It lunged.

”Abyssal Reach!”

Its arms stretched forward, claws shooting toward Andras from a distance that should have been impossible to cover so quickly.

Andras raised his sword to intercept the first strike.

The impact jolted through his arm. Before he could fully redirect the force, Draegor’s other limb swept in from the side.

Echo Step.

He shifted out of the attack’s path, but not quickly enough to escape unscathed. The claws tore through his uniform and opened a wound along his flank.

Pain flashed through his side.

Andras landed several steps away, forcing himself to remain upright. His injured ribs protested the sudden movement, and fresh blood spread across the torn fabric. He suppressed the urge to clutch his side. Any distraction could cost him his head.

Draegor pressed forward without giving him time to recover.

Its elongated arms attacked from alternating angles. One forced Andras to defend while the other struck from beyond his immediate reach, changing direction at the last moment.

Echo Resonance allowed him to sense fluctuations in the demon’s mana and anticipate its movements. But knowing where a strike would land meant little if his body couldn’t move quickly enough to avoid it.

He redirected another blow. The impact drove him backward, his boots scraping across the fractured stone.

Its bloodline is reinforcing its physical strength.

Draegor’s attacks had grown heavier without losing much speed. Andras might have managed that combination under ordinary circumstances, but his current injuries left little room for error.

The healing potion had slowed his bleeding and eased some of his pain. It had not restored his mana or stamina. Each Echo Step consumed resources he could scarcely spare, and every collision threatened to worsen his condition.

He needed to end this before his body gave out.

Instead of retreating from the next attack, Andras moved toward his opponent.

Draegor’s right arm swept toward his head. As the claws descended, the limb extended farther, attempting to catch him before he could close the distance.

Andras ducked beneath it and stepped inside the demon’s reach. His sword flashed toward the damaged joint Seraphina had exposed earlier.

The blade connected.

A shallow cut reopened the wound.

Draegor’s grin disappeared.

”You little—”

Its other arm struck before Andras could withdraw.

He crossed his sword in front of his chest, but the impact hurled him sideways. His shoulder slammed into a broken pillar, sending cracks through the stone.

Pain shot down his arm.

For an instant, his fingers threatened to lose their grip on the sword. He forced them closed and pushed away from the pillar before Draegor could follow up.

Behind him, Seraphina drew a strained breath. The faint sound was enough to remind him how little time she had left to endure her injuries.

He couldn’t afford to fall here.

Draegor advanced, its injured arm hanging slightly lower than the other.

”You should have stayed out of this,” it snarled. ”You could have watched her die without sharing her fate.”

Andras wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

”Are you finished talking?”

The demon’s expression twisted with anger.

It attacked again.

”Abyssal Reach!”

Both arms stretched forward. Andras evaded the first strike and redirected the second, but Draegor altered the path of its third attack at the last possible moment.

The claws caught his upper arm.

Fabric tore, followed by the sharp sting of another wound. Blood ran down to his wrist, and his sword nearly slipped from his grasp.

Andras staggered backward, breathing hard.

He could keep targeting the damaged joint and hope to create an opening, but that approach demanded more time and stamina than he had left.

Draegor lunged once more.

Andras twisted aside, yet the extended claws grazed his ribs. His balance faltered, and he nearly dropped to one knee before forcing himself upright.

For a moment, the corridor blurred around him. He steadied himself against the pain, refusing to let the demon see how close he was to collapsing.

He had spent too long concealing his abilities, weighing every action against the risk of exposing himself. There were reasons for that caution. Revealing too much could draw the attention of people he wasn’t ready to confront, and once others learned what he could do, he would lose control over who knew his secrets.

But secrets were useless to a dead man.

Andras raised his eyes toward Draegor.

His opponent remained stronger and faster, despite the damaged joint. Ordinary swordsmanship would not be enough to overcome that difference—not with his mana nearly exhausted and Seraphina depending on him.

He had to reveal something.

The thought brought no relief. Using a talent he had kept concealed could create problems long after this battle ended. If anyone witnessed what followed, he might have to deal with questions, suspicion, and enemies who would take an interest in his abilities.

Yet if he held back now, there might be no tomorrow in which to regret it.

Abyssal Earth Dominion.

His talent combined the restrictive properties of darkness with the destructive force of earth, allowing him to establish a domain that could hinder an opponent’s movements and reshape the surrounding terrain.

It wouldn’t erase Draegor’s physical advantage, but it might restrict its movement long enough to create an opening. The demon’s reach was dangerous because it controlled the distance between them. If Andras could disrupt that advantage, he might still turn the fight around.

He steadied his breathing and gathered what little mana remained.

Across from him, Draegor noticed the change. Its amusement faded as it studied him more carefully.

”What are you planning?”

Andras ignored the question.

He focused on the ground beneath his feet, preparing to establish the domain across the corridor. The effort strained his depleted reserves. He would have little left afterward, even if the technique succeeded.

There would be no room for another mistake.

He was about to activate Abyssal Earth Dominion—

Draegor’s body suddenly went still.

A thin line appeared across its neck.

For an instant, the demon remained upright, its expression frozen in the middle of a snarl.

Then its head slid from its shoulders.

It struck the stone floor, rolled once, and came to a stop beside Andras’s boots.

The headless body swayed before collapsing with a heavy thud.

The oppressive pressure of Draegor’s mana vanished.

Silence descended upon the corridor.

Andras remained motionless, his sword still raised. The mana he had gathered for his talent continued circulating within him, its intended purpose suddenly irrelevant.

He hadn’t attacked.

He hadn’t even seen what had struck the demon.

A moment earlier, Draegor had been on the verge of killing him. Now its severed head lay at his feet.

Andras slowly lowered his gaze.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then his violet eyes narrowed.

...What the hell?