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The Villain's Side Of the Story In The New Plot

I find myself in an unexpected role - the villain. It's a realization that dawns upon me, and I must admit, I never saw myself as the hero. Deep down, I carried a sense of responsibility for the resentment and animosity people harboured towards me. Perhaps I truly wasn't as kind or benevolent as the protagonist. Yet, I can't fully embrace the label of a villain. It perplexes me to awaken one day and comprehend that everyone else, including those I was prepared to protect at the cost of my own life, perceives me as such. To add to the weight of this revelation, fate has bestowed upon me an immense burden—the task of saving humanity itself. The irony is not lost on me. As a villain, it is not my duty to preserve the world. However, to whom should I entrust this responsibility? Should I leave it to the protagonist, whose primary pursuit seems to be amassing a personal harem under the guise of luring beauty? The very hero who possessed the most potent cheat codes yet failed to fulfil his duty in the end. This same hero seeks to safeguard our enemies simply because they currently reside in a state of peace. Ah, the mere thought of that hypocrite, convincing himself that he desires control to protect the innocent, ignites a fire within me. Sighing deeply, I come to a resolution. Yes, I will undertake the task of saving this chaotic world, but I will do it on my terms. Those who dare cross my path shall soon comprehend why the world itself deems me a villain. [This revised novel, a departure from my debut "The Villain Side of the Novel," introduces an alternate plotline where Fray persists in the struggle for the throne. The narrative unfolds on a previously unexplored continent, a departure from the original setting, providing a fresh and intriguing starting point.]

Fri123 · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
77 Chs

The Worn Book

"Well, he's undeniably a villain," whispered the elderly voice, the words escaping from weathered lips that scarcely quivered. The aged man held a worn book in his knotted hands.

A closer inspection of the book revealed its true nature, far from ordinary. Its cover bore a mosaic of enigmatic symbols, casting an eerie golden glow that danced in ethereal patterns. Yet, it lacked a title, an author's name, or any hint of its origins. Unperturbed by its enigmas, the old man remained engrossed in its forbidden pages, eyes fixed upon the text as though deciphering secrets that held sway over his very existence.

The old man name is Yassine, the renowned scientist, and leader of the ill-fated 'New Life' project, recently had become ensnared in a web of torment and malevolence.

Nine months prior...

Within the labyrinthine halls of the city's largest hospital, a doctor with a sympathetic visage delivered a grim proclamation to Yassine. "Mr. Yassine, there's no easy way to say this... You have been afflicted with an incurable cancer that ravages your lungs."

Silence hung heavy in the room, the weight of those words bearing down upon the illustrious scientist. The doctor's voice trembled as he continued, "Even with the most aggressive treatments, chemotherapy might offer you a mere year if you're fortunate enough..."

Yassine sat in silence, his mind drifting to the phone that slipped through his trembling fingers moments before. The doctor's words faded into the void, replaced by the deafening echo of his own mortality. It wasn't the fear of death that gripped him, but the wrenching realization that his life's purpose remained unfulfilled.

The 'New Life' project, a beacon of hope for a world teetering on the precipice of despair, now hung in limbo. Yassine carried the weight of humanity's aspirations upon his shoulders, knowing he could not succumb until he brought his grand vision to fruition. And so, he chose the path of torment, subjecting himself to the grueling ordeal of chemotherapy, sacrificing his final days with loved ones in favor of relentless pursuit.

Eight arduous months slipped away, lost in a haze of tireless research and unyielding desperation. Yassine poured his dwindling strength into his laboratory, delving deeper into the abyss of his obsession. Yet, despite his unwavering dedication, breakthroughs eluded him like whispers slipping through grasping fingers.

It was on a night like any other, when hope had been reduced to a flickering ember, that Yassine found himself succumbing to exhaustion. The weight of failure bore down upon him, and he succumbed to a fitful sleep, slumbering upon his desk.

In the depths of his weariness, a blinding flash seared through the darkness, jolting Yassine from his restless reprieve. Startled awake, his eyes widened as they beheld a mysterious book resting on the desk before him. An irresistible allure radiated from its ancient pages, beckoning him into an enigmatic embrace. Yassine knew it held untold dangers, but a flicker of hope sparked within his weary heart—an inkling that this tome might hold the key to his salvation.

With cautious deliberation, Yassine extended a trembling hand, fingers curling around the book's spine. In an instant, a blinding surge of light erupted, forcing him to shield his eyes from its dazzling radiance.

"Oh, my...God..." Yassine gasped, his voice swallowed by the brilliance that engulfed him.

When the luminosity receded, Yassine found himself standing upon unfamiliar terrain, a realm shrouded in mystery and foreboding. But this was not the source of his astonishment. Before he stretched an immense ocean teeming with grotesque creatures, their twisted forms defying comprehension.

No matter how he strained his eyes, the expanse remained endless, the multitude of species immeasurable. Among them, seven dominant races waged a cataclysmic conflict, their battle cries and the stench of death permeating the air.

Boom!!

Clash!!

Screams echoed, explosions rent the atmosphere, and Yassine felt himself drawn into this harrowing spectacle. His mind fixated on a singular realization: their strength. Awe coursed through his veins as he witnessed beings capable of obliterating skyscrapers with a mere motion.

A long-haired human brandished a sword, unleashing an energy wave that towered a hundred meters high. The devastation wrought by that single strike decimated thousands of enemy soldiers and cleaved a mountain in twain.

Yet, as Yassine watched, his sense of awe shattered. The human warrior met a swift demise at the hands of a red-skinned creature, its colossal horns pronouncing its dominance. The clash lasted mere moments, a fleeting encounter in the grand tapestry of this brutal conflict.

Observing the battle with a pallor of dread, Yassine discerned two factions embroiled in the struggle. On one side, humans and four allied races, their combined forces dwarfed by the opposing coalition. It comprised a race of red-skinned, horned beings and winged creatures that resembled gargantuan lizards, engulfing all in their path with searing flames.

Numbers proved inconsequential in this macabre dance of war. The true determinant lay in individual strength, for a solitary strike could annihilate thousands. Yassine realized that victory hinged upon the might of singular entities, some capable of decimating armies with casual indifference.

"While the allied races possess strength, it pales in comparison to their adversaries. Time is not on their side," Yassine whispered, his voice lost amid the carnage that unfolded.

Without warning, Yassine felt himself propelled forward, an unseen force guiding him toward a desolate expanse removed from the chaos of battle. He arrived at a secluded spot, where two figures confronted each other in a tense standoff. One was a human wielding a sword, while the other bore the same horned features witnessed before, its obsidian skin contrasting the crimson hue of its kin.

(Why have they retreated from the battlefield? Are they engaging in conversation?) Yassine pondered, his mind racing to unravel this new enigma.

Unable to comprehend their exchange, shrouded in a language foreign to his ears, Yassine's gaze fixated on the human's raised sword, pulsating with an ominous surge of energy. A foreboding presence permeated the air, hinting at imminent danger.

(Did their conversation end?) Yassine questioned silently.

In an instant, the human's sword descended with alarming speed, a cataclysmic wave of concentrated energy erupting in its wake. The very air trembled as the shockwave surged, soaring five hundred meters high, a maelstrom of destruction.

"Oh my God.." Yassine's voice trailed off, his eyes widening in sheer terror.

He had witnessed countless displays of power on the battlefield, but none rivaled the devastating force unleashed at that moment. Yassine understood, with morbid clarity, that this cataclysm mirrored the magnitude of a nuclear detonation. The sheer scale of annihilation left no room for doubt—the war ravaging this realm far exceeded the comprehension of mortal minds.

Finally, a glimmer of hope emerged in Yassine's weary heart, as he saw the potential for humanity to prevail against their formidable adversaries. This warrior, standing as a beacon of strength, possessed the power to stem the relentless tide of darkness.

The force of the onslaught surged forth, obliterating all in its wake, until it collided with the ebony creature, shrouding the scene in a thunderous explosion and an immense cloud of dust.

"What...What in the..." Yassine stammered, his voice quivering with dread.

Through the swirling veil, Yassine's eyes pierced the darkness, revealing a surreal tableau that defied reason. The ebony figure, adorned with menacing horns, remained untouched by the cataclysmic assault. Its countenance exuded an eerie calmness, as if immune to the havoc wrought upon it.

(How can one endure such devastation unscathed? This surpasses all comprehension), Yassine's mind recoiled in horror.

In an unknown tongue, the ebony figure uttered enigmatic words, raising its hands skyward. A surge of power coursed through the air, extinguishing the sun's radiant light in an instant. The world plunged into abyssal darkness, where even Yassine's own hands became indistinguishable.

And with a jolt, Yassine found himself abruptly transported back to his office, his visage etched with an indelible terror that clung to his every fiber.