Stone Mage: Revenge of the Villain System

But there was no response. Ronin assumed as much.

It’s not that the God of Death was inside his body or resides as a second personality.

It is more like they are one and the same. He was Ronin Dreadborne, the character, the one who was the equivalent of Fausforus or his incarnate.

But what he really was, the ‘person’ he truly was… conflicts with that.

Ronin Dreadborne must have been a very arrogant villain, that looks down on all kinds of humans, and does not think before he acts because he doesn’t have to.

He was already powerful and mighty, especially back when he was still the god of death itself, the one thing that was inevitable.

Being the god of something that no one else but fellow gods could defeat…. Having that much power over Life itself…

It would make you grow an ego. Anything that challenges that ego will make him lash out.

But the current Ronin, the one who has the soul of System #151044, was the opposite of that. Well, not much for the ego part, as Ronin does have that, though not as much….

But he was careful and callous. Calculative and ready to wear a ‘good’ face.

Just like how Min Cheng conflicts with Cermin Drychspiel’s true supposed identity. With this conflict, the merging becomes twisted, and the result was unstable.

But how did such merging happen in the first place? This never happened before._.

But most of the time, the HTM system would have completely erased any essence of the former identity. When you transmigrate into the body, it was supposed to be just what you were.

So…. why only now? Why only this world?

Another bug in the system? Was this a part of the gift that the Rogue System gave? No…..

It felt like something more than that, and it wouldn’t make sense either for the Rogue System to include this in his ‘gift’.

But Ronin could not continue pondering over this, as this instinctual identity he has, the ‘natural’ compared to his ‘true’ one, was taking over the more he fought with Cermin.

The destructive thoughts of Ronin Dreadborne were his, and consumes him. Slowly eating away to be his own and only true identity.

He couldn’t even recall ever being a system when he was like this. Deep down….

It was just him, the mighty who had fallen and reborn, distraught and hell-bent on becoming what he once was.

Regain what belonged to him, his right to cause Death and the End of the world.

He wore a large, crescent-smile as he fought Cermin Drychspiel much, much ferociously now. He had played all mean tricks with no discretion.

“Agh! Ow! Hey!” Cermin yelled as Ronin continued to harm him with the ropes he had tied around him.

He had no restraints when it comes to trickery. At one moment, he even feigned to let go of the ropes and make Cermin believe that the training was over….

Only to take them all again until he fell to the ground in a tangled mess, his limbs being pulled in twisted and dangerous directions!

“Ronin! Aren’t you going a little too far?” Cermin asked, in his fearful, Min Cheng way.

Ronin blinked, and was about to say that it really as enough when—

No, no. It’s not enough. He wanted to torment this puny golden boy more.

‘Eoin ser garre r’ai va? Va, fausfo!? Thll hawsem f’rii’opae khanatmite!’

Ronin gritted his teeth, disliking this feeling of his own brain eating itself. Being consumed by his own thoughts.

He tried to fight back, but who could possibly win against their own selves?

He was Ronin, Ronin was he. And why fight it, when it also shares the same goals and sentiment?

What he simply needed to do—

He pulled on the roped like a puppet master, and made it so Cermin would twist around and around until he loses balance, and hit the wall!

But he did not hit the wall too hard, just enough for him to fully not be able to fight anymore, his whole body screaming in pain.

“Agh!”

Then, despite Ronin’s heart constricting and aching to do more damage…..

He let go of the ropes.

He breathed heavily, and his vision cleared. He went over to Cermin’s side, and offered a hand.

“We’re done training. You did very badly, Your Highness.” He said in his usual neutral but at least not malignant tone.

He looked calm yet his mind was yelling at him.

‘Decihmar, decihmar, decihmar, decihmar!!!!!!!!!!’

Despite not knowing the language, he can tell what his own thoughts meant.

‘Murder’.

He wanted it very badly, not just as Ronin Dreadborne, but also as the person he was before all this.

The person that had forgotten everything else, besides the thought of murder.

Murdering the one who murdered him.

‘Decihmar Aurin….’

His heart called out. It meant…..

‘Kill the light’.

Looking at this boy terminating the radiance from his hair down those his golden skin, just like that bright and frustrating sun….

Ronin could never stop thinking and yearning for the day he gets to kill him. So much so that it hurts, and he felt like his heart was tearing and chewing at itself just for it.

A hunger that could not be satisfied until that day comes. He just had to live with it, and accept it as his own.

He held out his hand to Cermin who was still rubbing his aching back.

“Go if you want. Leave me here for a while.” He told him with a blank expression.

Cermin hesitated a little, before taking his hand.

Right, this was still his friend Ronin after all. He just went hard on him earlier because he wanted to train him for his own sake.

So…. Looking at those pitch black eyes deeper and darker than any trench….

What is there to be scared of?

He smiled as he stood up and left. “Thanks for training me, Ronin. I’ll do better next time! Be right back!”

But Ronin did not anticipate his return. He sat, looking as if he was deep in thought…

When in fact, there was none.

Instead, he was looking down on the floor, as if there was something there. he was holding his stomach…..

And heard the sounds of blood dripping on cold pavement.

Then, beyond that was the light.

Someone was standing under the light, that yellow light of a street lamp in the dark evening….

It was blinding, and he wanted it to go away…

He smiled bitterly to himself, and repeated the words, claiming them as his own:

“Decihmar Aurin.”