Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

For as far as Athan remembered, although one of the mandatory arts needed for noble etiquette and aristocratic gatherings, dancing was essential none of which got known among the Blackwell Household.

Not even in the previous life.

His genuinely surprised reaction, all the time, turned out the same the moment he knew Mystique wasn't a mute but a way to suppress her hidden abilities and origins in the past.

Although he knew he could've used her voice, it was too late with him messing up her life, let alone singing a whole piece. 

But she had to go through it, and couldn't care less if she had to pay a price.

Now, she poured all of her energy dancing, aside from singing, and this kind of dance was simply unheard of in the environment she grew up with— despite the familiarity of the key movements she had shown to all of them.

'Just how many tricks she had hidden all this time?' He clenched his teeth, knowing how confident she was in herself, and challenged her that he also knew her like the back of his hand— when it was never the case.

Even at this point, he thought that he knew Mystique and not at the same time, as crazy as it sounded.

From the training montage they had, she showed exemplary skills, in no way he thought she would've done it as what she so-claimed back up whenever things could go wrong.

Soon as the peculiar yet incredibly upbeat song played to Athan's ears, he never had been this energized in this way throughout his life. But then he had to snap out of his thoughts when he remembered that they only have about five minutes to finish everything.

Withal, he beckoned his ghouls to move out, with swiftness, from the shadows of the cliffs they lurked. No dusty clouds came as they plunged deep, and followed his tracks.

'This song… I can sense the dynamics reaching the chorus…' 

He clicked his tongue and locked his target on a few of the trolls and elves among the frontlines. 

'To think they got to recruit these dark elves into their ranks, how resourceful of them are going against me!'

While he had to bear in mind that not to cause bloodshed, perhaps he didn't want to spare their lives, lest they would come with vengeance sooner or later.

With them unprotected, his eyes glimmered to a crimson glow as he dashed forth with fangs baring and the sword that lit up to a bright flame. Upon swinging it, the one's upfront engulfed in flames, no screams or cries heard as they burned to ashes.

For it was only but cutting an opening into their formation, Athan still had a long way to go, as it wasn't his main objective for today. 

Shrieks came from the ghouls as they went for the helpless victims, as though they were a meal served to them, none of it mattered to him.

'Mystique mentioned there's a possibility of the strong enemies upon breaking through the spell after one minute… After the chorus, is that it?'

With a sea of armies, he had to look for the generals well-protected, but not with them as though they got frozen in time and the gigantic beasts throwing a fit of rage.

Quetzalcoatl tribesmen were his ghouls' priorities, and he would've to deal with the generals of the same kind.

The loud, incessant stomps almost tripped him off as he had to balance himself with not only the ground shaking but also several bodies threw his way like mere objects.

When he began to heighten his senses, he noticed few which put up to his caliber, and he didn't hesitate to go for his first target.

Soon as he gripped his burning sword, he then slashed at the armored plate at the chest, melting it in the process as the poor victim's body began to sizzle in flames. 

It wasn't enough as he struck and plunged deep the sword to its torso; upon gritting his teeth, he took it out and moved on to the next. He could feel his sweat from his forehead and nape trickling and gave a ticklish sensation as it brushed against the frigid cold winds of the night.

From the dark sky found Mystique gave all the sultry dance from her hips, and arms that waved no less than the nature of water—graceful and perpetual with its moves.

He went through it, with layers of burnt flesh and blood by the sword; "This burnt meat…" He couldn't help but lick his lips.

Even so, he then flicked it away and revealed fresh blood that flowed on its sheen surface. The aromatic scent blessed his nose, giving it a little taste.  After which, he went for another round of mass murder.

However, everything didn't always fall in his favor, before the chorus was about to end, one of the enemies he was about to face, regained his consciousness and shrieked high-pitch. 

Athan squinted his eyes as he flinched from the piercing sound, which he stabbed his throat before dragging the sword down to his torso. The end of it lit up in a fiery burn.

But fear instilled in his spine when he saw his enemies showing signs of movement— despite the disarray, he noticed that most of the Quetzalcoatl tribe were dead, feast upon the ghouls. 

He called Sylvester to charge right away; running through the cliffs into a cloud of dust with rounds of howls and snarls on them. 

"Another E—Enemies are coming—" One of the centaurs then screamed bloody murder as soon as a ghoul pounced and ripped his heart for another round of meal.

The enemies found it too late to rally with their positions as Athan's army burrowed deep into their formation. 

Halfway through the music, the chorus came, and while the enemies tried their best to retaliate, they found themselves stunned in terror— with the same song, greater effect than earlier.

The arduous parade turned out to be fallen victims of a one-sided massacre.

This night, the silent chasm filled into nothing but horrors and carnage, smearing its arid soil with fresh corpses.