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Young Masters Pov Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day Chapter 198

198: night sanctuary [iv]

Young Masters Pov Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day Chapter 198

198: night sanctuary [iv]

“I won’t waste your time.”

The moment Selene started speaking, the winter wind died.

“No speeches. No sentimentality,” she continued. “You were admitted to Apex Academy because you have potential. Tomorrow, I will test if that potential has value.”

A quiet ripple passed through the crowd.

“For most of you, this will be your first time stepping into the Spirit Realm,” she said. “Not a simulation. Not a dome. Not one of those interactive virtual realities with cartoon mascots.”

A few Cadets chuckled.

She didn’t.

“The Spirit Realm is older than mortals. Older than humanity. It has wiped out civilizations and devoured their worlds. It does not care for your technology. It does not recognize your rules. It does not obey the constructs of your meager logic.”

She let that sink in.

Then tilted her head slightly.

“And it especially doesn’t like children playing in its backyard.”

Someone near the front coughed in panic.

I may or may not have taken a casual step behind the tall guy in my Squad.

“You’ll arrive at my Night Sanctuary,” Selene continued, her tone even and crisp. “You’ll be given twenty-eight hours to rest, scout the terrain where your test will be held, and reflect on how many of your overinflated egos mean absolutely nothing when faced with the unimaginable nightmares lurking there.”

I saw several Cadets flinch.

But Selene wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t worry. None of you will die,” she added, like that was supposed to be comforting. “Your test will be actually very simple. Capture the Flag. Like children. But with real consequences. One team wins. The rest lose. Not lives, but some of you might lose teeth. Some will lose pride. One or two might lose a limb. You’ll be graded according to your performance.”

She smiled faintly.

“I’ve prepared you. I’ve taught you everything you need to know for this test… assuming you actually attended my classes.”

I might’ve imagined it, but I swear her eyes flicked toward me when she said that.

…Was that actually directed at me?

That bitch!

“All that’s left now is for you to prove yourselves. So, without further delay—”

She summoned a Card.

But not just any Card.

The moment it appeared, the air crackled. Veins of violet energy slithered through the Card’s edges, and the wind that had gone still now circled back, whirling across the field as if a storm had been waiting for this moment.

The Card soon began expanding.

Vertically. Horizontally. Fluidly.

It didn’t just grow — it unfolded, bent, twisted, reshaped itself in the air strangely. In mere moments, it reached nearly three meters in height.

Then, the center began to hollow out — curling inward like a spiral of shadows, revealing a dark vertical rift.

A portal.

That was an Anchor Card.

It was a type of high-grade Spell Card capable of creating a stable portal link between two preset locations.

This one had just opened the connection from here to… somewhere deep within Selene’s personal domain — the Night Sanctuary.

Meaning, the second Anchor Card — its pair — must’ve just activated on the other side.

Selene stepped back. “The link has been formed. The portal anchor at my Sanctuary is now active. Enter after me according to your Squad number.”

With that, she turned and stepped into the shadowy rift of her own creation — vanishing on the other side.

And as she disappeared, we all collectively did what any group of trained teenage soldiers would do when faced with a gaping mouth into another dimension.

We froze.

The Portal pulsed. The winter wind hissed. Someone sneezed. No one took a step.

Then a disembodied voice — cold and calm, probably from a staff member with a megaphone — echoed across the field:

“Squad One, enter.”

And just like that, the parade into horror began.

Squad One jogged toward the Portal in synchronized formation like they’d rehearsed it in front of a mirror for weeks.

The leader even saluted before stepping through — which, honestly, felt like overkill.

“Squad Two.”

A girl from Squad Two immediately started crying. Loudly.

Her teammates embarrassedly dragged her in, whispering things like, “We trained for this, we bonded for this, please shut up!”

“Next! Squad Three!”

They marched in military style, stiff and emotionless.

Honestly, that was way cringier than the crying girl.

“Squad Four.”

One guy from their team tripped before stepping in, face-planting mid-stumble and disappearing into the Portal.

I prayed for him.

“Squad Five.”

Ah yes. Squad Five was my sister Thalia’s team. And of course, she was flanked by her two royal besties, Willem and Alice.

Among them was also Ray Warner, one of the main characters. That idiot was recording himself, talking to his camera like he was the star of a fantasy vlog series.

That idiot.

…The rest of the Squads continued entering.

Squad Eleven — the team that consisted only of archers — walked in with the flair of a boy band doing a dramatic slow-mo entrance.

Their squad leader even winked at someone as he passed.

That someone was not impressed.

The whole thing went on for another fifteen minutes.

Some Cadets prayed as they entered.

Some swaggered in with forced bravado.

Some looked like they were two seconds away from peeing themselves.

While some lunatics looked like they’d been waiting for this moment their entire lives.

“Squad Twenty-Seven.”

And then, our moment arrived.

“So, anyone wants to hold hands?” I asked, stretching like a lazy cat.

The tall guy sighed and walked away, pretending I didn’t exist.

The goth girl followed without a word.

The quiet sniper also stood up and joined them.

The green-haired girl gave me a glare. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying earlier. “How about you hold my boot? With your face!”

…D-Damn.

That was a solid comeback. I made a mental note to use it on someone later.

One by one, they all entered.

When it was my turn, I paused, gave the Portal a long look, and let the cold wind ripple through my hair for dramatic effect.

Then I stepped through.

•••

For a split second, everything turned black.

But before I could even form a coherent thought, I was thrown out the other side.

I stumbled forward. Blinked.

…And halted.

I felt it before I saw it.

The world…

The world had changed.

This wasn’t Earth.

This was… something older.

I could instinctively sense it.

I found myself standing on the roof of a castle.

No.

Not a rooftop.

A summit.

Massive obsidian-black tiles stretched beneath my feet, etched with silver veins that pulsed like breath — like the castle was alive.

The rooftop was impossibly broad — wide enough to host a military parade, a wedding, and a collective existential crisis at the same time.

The air up here was thin and cold and heavy…

And tasted like something dark and ancient.

And overhead—

“…Woah!” I muttered.

The sky boiled with churning shades of ink and amethyst, flickering with violet flashes of distant lightning that never struck.

Faint auroras danced like celestial ribbons above, casting eerie shadows across the castle’s edge.

It was the kind of night sky that seemed like it remembered the deaths of gods and the births of heroes… and wasn’t impressed by any of it.

It was… the Eternal Night.

I stepped forward.

And the view hit me like a punch.

From up here, I could see all of Night Sanctuary — the layered terraces, the spiraling bridges, and the glowing veins embedded in buildings that made it look like the city was painted with starlight.

I saw people moving on the streets in the distance. I saw sentries, citizens, and large trucks gliding past cathedrals made of black stone and boneglass.

It didn’t feel like we had stepped into another world.

It felt like we had stepped into a myth.

The kind of myth whispered by old beings.

The kind of myth that was made of dreams… or nightmares.

And standing at the far end of the rooftop—

There she was.

The Witch Queen of the Eternal Night.

The Zaré Anash.

Selene Valkryn.

Her coat fluttered, and her hair lifted slightly in the wind that dared touch no one else. Her arms were crossed, and her back was facing us.

She stood there watching her city like a ruler surveying her kingdom.

Around me, more Cadets began appearing.

Some dropped to their knees.

Some looked up with their jaws stupidly hanging in shock.

Some were already whispering curses, awe, and “What the hell is this place?” on repeat.

Even the tough ones — the highborn nobles who’d been to the Spirit Realm before — stood like children who had just realized the world was far too big… and they were far too small.

…Just like that, we had arrived at the Night Sanctuary.

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Young Master’s PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Young Master’s PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Score 8.4
Status: Ongoing Artist:

Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

"Now you see?" she shouted in a mix of annoyance and disappointment. "You can't outsmart Scrients! They're the most intelligent beings across the two realms."

"You're right," I muttered, averting my gaze with a heavy sigh. "I made a mistake. I was too arrogant to think that a mere human like me could fool them."

—BOOM!!

"Heik! Wh-What was that?"

"Hmm? I'm not sure. Maybe you should go and ask the most intelligent beings across the two realms. Oh wait, you can't. I killed them all.”

______

My name is Samael Kaizer Theosbane.

On the last day of high school, I got into a fight with a kid I used to bully.

It was a stupid, pointless scuffle, and in the middle of it, I tripped and hit my head on a rock.

That’s when the memories came flooding in - the memories of another life, of a different world.

Suddenly, everything made a twisted kind of sense. I realized two things.

First, I was in a game I used to play in my past life.

Second, I was a villain. A villain!

Not the cool and mysterious kind, either.

No, my destiny was to be manipulated and die a dog's death!

I was the worst type of cliché: an ungrateful, privileged, insufferable young master. The sort you'd find in those poorly written fantasy stories.

The kind everyone hates — a snobby brat from a powerful noble family who thinks he owns the world just because he was born with a silver spoon lodged in his mouth.

You know the type. The one the hero beats to a pulp to prove his worth.

Yeah, I was that guy.

And the hero? The hero was the kid I’d been bullying all this time. The same one I got into a fight with.

He was the supposed savior of this damned world.

A world teetering on the edge of destruction, beset by wars, calamities, and a grim future that only I knew.

And at the end of it all, the final antagonist of the game, the undefeatable boss… the Spirit King, was waiting.

But could I even make it to the end?

Could I conquer a game where defeat was the only certainty?

A game that was now my reality!

“Ah, fuck it.”

I had no idea if I could, but I sure as hell was going to try.

Extorting extras, manipulating main characters, twisting the story to my advantage, stealing the hero’s cheat items, killing villains before they could become threats - nothing was beneath me.

Would the main characters be affected? Who cares!

Would the story change? Even better!

All I cared about was me—my survival, my life, my choices.

“I will live this life with no regrets.”

…But as I soon discovered, fate was not easily changed.

And the price of altering one's destiny was steep.

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