Chapter 3
When the Villain's Arch-Nemesis Becomes his Full-Time Job
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Red Hilt is the type of villain who, even if he has the chance to defeat a hero, once he becomes interested in them, will let them escape.
The reason why he does this is simple:
He is the type of villain who gets great pleasure from slowly torturing a hero, and defeating them right then and there wouldn't be as exciting as he expected it to be.
So, despite the fact that what happened between him and Arondight at the club may have been just a drunken accident, but to Red Hilt, it was the beginning of something fun and exciting. And even though he didn't want to admit it at first, his body was longing for the feeling of when they had sex for the first time.
That's why Ivan wasted no time. He immediately planned his next step to bring Arondight closer to him, ensuring that when he met him again, Adrian would be ready to fight him...
...and then afterwards, perhaps, they could have another passionate night to wash away their fatigue from the battle.
That's right. That's the plan.
He is going to lure the hero, Arondight, straight into his trap.
But before he could do that, Red Hilt meticulously (and somehow, obsessively) studied everything related to Arondight for months. From how he began his career as a hero, to the latest villain he defeated that quickly catapulted him into the top 100 of the Heroes' ranking in the entire city. He even asked his fellow villains what they thought and knew about Arondight and if anyone in the villain's lair, a deep web platform where all the villains in the city gathered in anonymity and have community forums, gossips, and schemes against the heroes, was interested in him.
He didn't expect Arondight's name to be so hot among the "Tyrants".
If the heroes had their so-called Defenders, which consist of the chosen few hailed as the strongest among all the heroes in the city, then the villains had their own council of evils called the Tyrants, who also called themselves "Tyrants of the Round Table", which consist of the ten most dangerous and highest-ranking villains in all of Galahad City.
And Ivan Ross, better known as Red Hilt, sat among them.
It wasn't surprising that this new hero, Arondight, had caught the council's attention. In their world, it wasn't uncommon for a hero to wield more than one ability or power, but the scope of Arondight's abilities was something else entirely. Red Hilt was able to gather basic information about him from the latest reports, videos, and news coverage. So far, what he knew about the man is that he could command six different elements and conjure countless of weapons seemingly at will, a gift that is impossible to ignore for anyone reckless enough to face him.
But this golden rookie's combat skills were still raw and unpolished. But with that kind of power he had, once he was tempered and trained by a veteran hero as an apprentice, could easily dominate any battlefield without giving much sweat. If nurtured properly, Arondight wouldn't just be another rising star on the Hero Rankings, he would become someone that villains, even the Tyrants themselves, might one day think twice before crossing his path with him.
And of course, the current No. 1 villain in all of Galahad City would never allow someone like Arondight to grow unchecked or remain a looming threat among the villains.
Well, speaking of the devil, Red Hilt just received an email from the council of the round table. Their leader and the current no. 1 villain in the city, Mordred, wants to call a meeting. The email did not mention what the agenda was, but Ivan had a strong suspicion it was about the selection.
Ever since Ivan joined the Tyrants, he had never once attended their council meetings. Even if it was a small gathering, online discussions or community forums, Ivan always ignored them. To him, such things were nothing more than just a show off; a waste of time and energy, when in the end, every villain will fight their wars independently.
But this time was different.
This time, he would attend.
Not because the council itself demanded it, but because for the first time in his career as a villain, Ivan wanted something for himself, and he was eager to get it, no matter who dared to stand in his way.
That's why the next day, Ivan arrived at the designated place for the council meeting. It was a hidden chamber beneath the city that could only be accessed by those ten high-ranking villains possessing the Tyrant's ring. For once, he wasn't dressed in his barista's apron, nor wearing the casual business suits that makes him perfectly blend into the crowd. Today, he stepped forward into someone that made the city of Galahad tremble whenever they had the mere sight of him.
His villain persona, Red Hilt.
His signature attire consists of a long, blood-red trench coat with a layer of black turtleneck that matches perfectly with his the black gloves and black boots with straps on it. A half-mask, shaped like a demon's snarling jaws is intended to conceal his lower face, leaving only his sharp, merciless, and natural crimson-like ruby eyes that seemed to be caught in the heart of hell's flames.
This was Red Hilt's first time walking through the corridor of the tyrants' hidden chamber, and his presence was overwhelming enough to make anyone he encountered stop and turn their heads at him. His every step echoed chillingly on the marble floor, instantly drawing stares from other low ranking villains outside the chamber hall. Those who saw him were immediately stunned, as if the air itself had thickened oddly as he passed by.
"Th-that's Red Hilt, isn't it?!" one voice in the crowd gasped upon seeing Red Hilt for the first time, and yet his voice was already half in terror.
"I think he is!" another one in the crowd confirms it through murmuring, "But this is the first time I've actually seen him,"
"Is he really as dangerous as they say?" another person in the crowd blurted in, and the tone of his words were almost skeptical. But no one in the crowd was unable answer that. Instead, they look away as if it was the safest thing they could do to void being Red Hilt's target of attention. Rumors say that even a glance being made for too long might draw Red Hilt's notice, as if the guy has an extra eye on the back of his head.
The whispers outside the hall gradually died down as Red Hilt pushed open the chamber doors and stepped inside the private room. There, nine of his companions were already seated. Their eyes snapped toward him the moment he entered. He neither spoke nor offered the slightest apology for his lateness. Instead, he walked steady towards the only empty seat at the round table, directly opposite the council's leader, Mordred.
Mordred's eyes narrowed without hesitation as Red Hilt claimed the empty seat on the round table. For a long moment, the two men simply stared at each other from their places at the table. Mordred, completely reeks of authority, calmly stared at Red Hilt like a calm but completely detached king on his throne. While Red Hilt, with his villainous smirk hidden behind his mask radiates insolence, enough to challenge Mordred's authority that screams "I bow to no one except myself."
Then finally, after a few seconds of silence, a faint smile played on Mordred's lips and said, "You're late."
His words were unexpectedly calm, but beneath them lay a dangerous warning.
Red Hilt leaned casually in his chair and responded, "I know," his voice was low and cut clean, enough to penetrate Mordred's wall of arrogance.
None of the other council members spoke as the two highest-ranking figures silently and simply locked horns. After all, there was nothing to be gained by throwing themselves into the eye of the storm, so they held their tongues and chose to sit as silent spectators to the battle of dominance unfolding before them.
But one person among the rest of the ten dared to speak. She's the current rank no. 5, a young lady dressed in blue royal attire. She's almost finished with her tea when she spoke up. She lifted her teacup for one last sip, then she set it down on her right with a faint click as she sighed dryly and said, "Aren't you two finished yet? This meeting is already late, and I still have another appointment to attend after this."
The young villainess' words drew both men's attention at once, and the tension that had swelled between them in that dark, private chamber burst like a pricked balloon.
"You're right." this was Mordred's immediate response after their companion criticized them. "Perhaps we should begin this meeting with the selection of heroes that each of us would choose as targets."
After saying that, he looked sharply at Red Hilt as if he were saying, "I know why you're here." Mordred wasn't foolish not to understand the reason behind the rebel villain's sudden appearance. Red Hilt wouldn't have bothered attending, much less on the day of the selection, if he hadn't had something, or rather someone, specific in mind.
And Mordred knew him all too well...
They have the same hero in mind that they are both interested to claim.
"I'll start." Mordred pressed a small button next to him, where the face and stats of the rookie hero Arondight, who was now a hot shot in the eyes of many villains, flashed on the wide screen.
"I'll take this so-called golden rookie who brought down some of our veteran villains. He may look like a newbie, but this burly hero has potential." Then, his eyes swept around the table, daring anyone to meet his gaze as he spoke, "Does anyone here wish to object?"
Then without a warning, Red Hilt raised a hand. That simple gesture was enough to draw everyone's attention back to him.
"He's mine," Red Hilt said calmly, but with full force and arrogance to everyone that left no room for argument, least of all from Mordred.
The council members couldn't hide the tension as their gazes flicked between Mordred and Red Hilt. To openly challenge Mordred's claim to his chosen hero was a sacrilege, but to do so directly was something only Red Hilt was capable of.
"Oops...looks like things are about to get heated, huh..." murmured the current rank No. 7, a young man with the air of an assassin. Half his face was wrapped in black cloth, and there were two katanas crossed in his back in plain view.
He leaned toward the council's rank No. 4, a middle-aged woman in pirate garb. Her eyes hidden beneath a black blindfold marked with a skull.
"Don't tell me you're enjoying this," she said with a tone of annoyance. "You know as well as I do what happens when those two are in the same room. Once they clash, it would be inevitable even for us. So it would be better if Red shit didn't show up here. We're used to him not coming anyway..."
The assassin murmured back with a faint, knowing grin, "Relax! Maybe he's just too bored in his own cave, that's why he suddenly showed up here today for a little fun. You know him. That man's a hunter of extreme thrills."
The two unconcerned villains gradually fell silent and turned their attention back to Mordred and Red Hilt, who until that moment, were still glaring at each other with sharp gazes as if they were striking their blades to each other, yet they drew no blood.
Mordred's fingers drummed against the table in a steady rhythm as if he was strategizing his next move. Then all of a sudden, the sound of his tapping ceased and asked Red Hilt directly and said:
"As far as I remember, ever since you've become a member of this round, you show no interest in getting any hero as your primary target. So why the sudden interest now?"
Red Hilt clasped his hands beneath his chin as he leaned forward and replied evenly and calmly, "Do I need to have a personal reason to choose my target? As far as I know, there isn't one."
"You're right," Mordred conceded while his tone remains steady despite his irritation. "But the rules state that when two villains are interested in the same target, it must be decided by the game of dice."
"Then, let's do it." Red Hilt confidently replied. Then with a faint tone of cunning to his voice, he added, "But it would be better if we all joined the game. Because you see, it isn't just me or you who want that rookie as a target. The others are simply too afraid to speak against you. So, I'll speak on their behalf."
Red Hilt's suggestion was bold, but he wasn't wrong when he said that it wasn't just him or Mordred who were interested in Arondight.
Every council member wanted the golden rookie as their target.
And Mordred knew exactly why Red Hilt had pushed this idea. It wasn't out of fairness, nor out of camaraderie. Red Hilt simply refused to let the rookie fall into Mordred's hands. He would rather see Arondight assigned to anyone else than him. Because Red Hilt knew he could take the hero from a fellow council member far more easily than from Mordred himself.
This man was really cunning.
Yet Mordred didn't allow his annoyance to surface. Instead, he lifted a hand in a casual gesture toward the figure behind him. Within moments, his attendant stepped forward, carrying two dice nestled in a silver plate.
The assistant stepped forward and placed the two dice on the round table.
"Then it's settled," Mordred said, not only to Red Hilt but to every council members in the round table. "Each of us will take our turn against Red Hilt. Whoever holds the nearest number wins the game until one villain is left to claim the hero. Does anyone here object to these terms?"
No one in the council objected, and neither did Red Hilt.
"So...what are we waiting for?" said Red Hilt, then he leaned back in his chair. He remained calm despite the sharp and malicious looks his fellow villain as if they had already decided the outcome of the game.
"Let's get started."