Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 116

Chapter 116: [Club House Competition] [4] [2V2]
“….So who is going first?”

Athela’s voice echoed in our room just beside the open stadium, separated by only a wall of glass.

We sat on two different benches, with Shyamal sitting beside me.

And I sat far away from her.

The cheering of the audience was at an all-time high as they waited for the respective members to come out.

‘..Five minutes.’

I mushed, glancing at the timer counting down on the display hovering above.

“…Are you guys coming forward, or should I make a team randomly?” Athela threatened, glaring at us, her red eyes filled with annoyance.

No one came forward as we sat quietly.

“…Okay then.” She nodded her head aggressively after not getting any answer. “..Shyamal and Tristan, you guys go.”

“No.” Almost instantly, Shyamal rejected her. “I will not go with him.”

“Why?” Frowning, Athela asked.

“I will only participate if Azariah is on the same team.” Placing her legs over her other leg, she replied firmly, her back straight while the red tracksuit clung tightly to her body.

“The hell?” I groaned. “What did I do?”

“Don’t act like it’s some kind of punishment.” She rebuked, shifting her crimson eyes towards me.

“Are you going to let us lose just because of your—”

“Do not talk to me, Tristan.” Shyamal interrupted without even glancing at him.

“You can change your teammates later on.” Athela advised, her voice tired.

“Let me rephrase my words,” Shyamal replied, unbothered. “I will only participate with Azariah.”

“Okay, fine!” Athela’s voice rose as she grumbled, glaring at her. “Then Azariah and Tristan, you can—”

“Huh? I am not going with him.” I immediately stopped her as I stood up from my seat.

“Now what’s your problem?” She yelled, glaring at me.

“I just don’t want to be around him.” I replied, shrugging.

“Neither do I.” Tristan scoffed, glaring at me. “I would rather die than be with him.”

“Then why don’t you do me a favor?” Turning towards him, I said, my lips curled up. “…And just lay down in a coffin.”

His face twisted in anger as he rushed towards me.

“Okay, stop it, you guys.” Athela quickly came in between us, pushing him back. “I wanted to balance the team, but it looks like that’s not possible.”

“What now then?” I inquired, sitting back on the bench.

“Seth and Tristan.”

Awkwardly, Seth stood up, wearing guards around his elbows for safety, with gauntlets as his offensive weapon.

Tristan also did the same, wrapping his sheath around his waist.

“Good luck.” Nodding towards them, Athela said as they walked towards the open field.

My gaze shifted towards Shyamal as she stood up from her seat as well.

“Where are you going?” Athela asked, glancing at her.

“I will go meet my friends.” She replied, walking towards the hallway.

“She is lying, she is a complete loner.” I snickered, making her stop.

“What?” Turning around, she asked, her voice cold.

“Loner—someone without any friends.” Smirking, I replied, “Aren’t you always alone?”

“..Is that so?” Her lips curled up in a sweet smile as she swaggered towards me.

“…What?” I brought my hands up, covering my face, ready to counter any attack, while swiftly moving back.

She brought her hand up as if to slap me, but before I could counter that, she raised her leg, kicking my front leg.

‘Fuck, that hurts!’

“…..”

I pressed my lips together not to scream as she turned around, walking away.

[….Why provoke her?]

‘She needs friends, El, someone with whom she can at least be comfortable.’

…If she wants to live, she needs mental support.

It would have been better if she had familial love and care.

…But the only relative alive is her father who hates her.

‘…I wish Shane was here right now.’

I sighed, taking a seat on the bench, rubbing my tibia.

Like Aunt Belly, Shane was also very good at taking care of others.

….If he had been here, maybe Shyamal could be in a better state of mind.

[…Is there no way for her to be saved?]

‘…I don’t know.’

Maybe giving her unconditional love can help.

‘But then again, what kind of crazy bastard would ever love her?’

“…How long till you die?” I glanced to my side at Athela as she asked, looking down at me.

“…Nine years, give or take.” I replied honestly.

“And you are still not planning to leave Christina?” She questioned, anger hiding in her voice.

I remained silent, looking at the ground.

“…Are you not worried?” She asked again, shifting her gaze, “That I will tell this information—”

“Do you want to go against Duchess Esmeray’s order?” I asked, turning my head, “Or do you want Christina to stay by my side till my last breath?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have our first two teams!!”

The announcer’s voice echoed, making me look back at the ground.

“….We are losing this match.”

I mumbled as I looked at the white-haired girl walking on the ground.

….

The audience erupted in cheers as the princess of their empire walked on the ground.

And within all that, Arianell walked confidently with a nervous boy walking behind her.

“..P-Princess,” stuttering, the boy said, “..How should I help—”

“Just stay back.” Arianell replied, her white eyes turning towards him.

“Pardon?” Liam asked in confusion.

“Stay back.” She replied, her eyes drifting towards the boy with purple hair looking at her, “I can take care of it.”

The announcer’s voice echoed once again, “From Team Red, we have Seth and Tristan, and from Team Green, we have… Princess Arianell?”

“Are you sure?” Daphne, working as the referee, asked, glancing at her.

She nodded in reply, a dull sword in her hand, as Seth and Tristan stood in front of her in confusion.

“Is she—”

“Looks like it.” Tristan replied, his voice harsh, “Even though we are at the same rank, she is still underestimating me.”

The grip on his sword tightened as he felt humiliation—the same kind of humiliation that he felt after brutally losing to Azariah.

“..How do we deal with her?” Seth asked, his voice concerned, “…We don’t even know what she can do.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Shaking his head, Tristan replied, “Just follow my lead.”

“Ready!!” Daphne asked, and both sides nodded.

“Start!!”

Without any delay, Seth flanked towards her from her left while Tristan did the same from the right.

Looking the incoming opponents, Arianell remained calm, blinking her eyes twice.

The whiteness of her eyes became purer….like that of a blind person.

Even after losing her eyesight, she remained calm, her lips parting as a small voice escaped her mouth, “Uzume bloodline—kagura: mai.”

The grip she had on her dull sword loosened, her feet moved subconsciously, gliding on the ground in a slow, deliberate dance.

Each step was graceful as she twirled around, each motion precise, the sword moving along, as if she had performed the same dance countless times.

The crowd quieted down, and even Tristan and Seth stopped watching her, confusion evident on their faces.

As if they were drawn by her, everyone who watched her held their breath, waiting for it to continue.

….Except those who had a strong mind.

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS WATCHING HER!? ATTACK!!”

Azariah’s annoyed scream jolted both of them awake as they came back to their senses.

But it was already too late as she twirled once again, the air around her starting to tremble.

Seth quickly charged forward, his gauntlet-clad fist swung towards Arianell, but she merely stepped aside, her dance never faltering.

Tristan followed, his sword slicing through the air in a series of quick, precise strikes.

Arianell’s movements became a blur, her body dodging every attack with grace.

Then, as if conjured from the very air around her, something emerged.

It was invisible to the naked eye, but its presence was unmistakable.

Seth swung his fist wildly, but she dodged once again before she swung her dull sword vertically at his shoulder.

….But the strike was so slow that he easily dodged it, a smirk forming on his face.

“ARGHHH!!”

But to his horror, something blunt hit him on his shoulder, making him stumble to the ground.

He barely had time to register as she struck again, a horizontal slash at his chest.

He dodged the sword stike, but again a dull attack hit his chest like a boulder, sending him flying backward.

“What are you doing, fatty!!” Tristan shouted at him, unable to comprehend why he flew back.

“Argh.”

But he got his answer soon enough as a dull sword attacked him as well, making him grab his stomach in pain.

“How?” He wondered as he stood meters away from her.

…Then how did he feel her strike?

But before he could grimace more, Arianell twirled her body, her sword moving gracefully from her sides.

And…

“Fuck!!”

Tristan couldn’t help but curse out loud as he saw the ground beneath her crumbling as if hit by a sword strike.

It continued reaching towards him.

Thinking quickly, he moved away from the line of attack.

But before he could think of a plan, a soft attack on his neck knocked him out cold.

Arianell’s movements slowed down as she stopped her dance.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have our first winner!!”

The announcer’s voice echoed, waking everyone up.

As the crowd erupted in cheers again, Arianell blinked, her vision returning.

She turned around once again, looking at the silent purple-haired boy.

“Winning 10 points magnificently for her team, Princess Arianell!!”