I am Chosen Villain

The night cracked open with the first clash of weapons.

Xu Qingyang's wooden sword met Gu Tianxian's dagger, sparks of spiritual energy flickering between them. The force of the impact sent tremors through the courtyard stones, the air thick with an unseen tension—one between destiny and destruction.

Gu Tianxian smiled. The boy had skill.

Not the reckless bravado of an arrogant youth, nor the blind trust of one shielded by fate. No—Xu Qingyang fought to survive, every movement precise, every instinct sharpened by the weight of an invisible hand guiding him.

"A protagonist worth killing."

Xu Qingyang leapt backward, his eyes locked onto the shadowy figure before him. His breath came in steady bursts, his grip firm.

"You're an assassin." His voice was calm, not accusing, merely understanding.

Gu Tianxian chuckled, twirling the shadow-forged dagger between his fingers.

"An assassin? No, I am much worse than that."

And with that, he vanished.

The air distorted as Silent Phantom Step activated. Gu Tianxian reappeared at Xu Qingyang's side in the blink of an eye, his dagger already descending toward the boy's throat.

Xu Qingyang's body moved before his mind could comprehend—a last-second tilt, his wooden sword angling upward.

CLANG!

The force of the block sent Xu Qingyang skidding backward, his feet dragging through the dirt. His hand trembled from the sheer weight of the strike.

His heart pounded. He wasn't just fighting another cultivator.

He was fighting something unnatural.

"What are you?" he asked, his voice steadier than it should have been.

Gu Tianxian tilted his head.

"I am the end of your story."

And then he attacked.

A flurry of phantom strikes, dagger flickering in and out of existence. Xu Qingyang's wooden sword barely kept up, each block and parry sending painful reverberations through his arms.

But he did not break.

Not yet.

Gu Tianxian's smirk widened.

"Not bad."

The system had called Xu Qingyang a fated one, a child blessed by the heavens. If left alone, he would undoubtedly rise—defeating demons, overturning sects, and reaching heights that others could only dream of.

But Gu Tianxian was here to rewrite the script.

He sidestepped, his dagger slicing through the air, aiming for the boy's ribs.

Xu Qingyang twisted. Too slow.

The cold bite of steel brushed against his flesh—a shallow cut, but a warning.

His breath hitched. For the first time, realization dawned.

He could die.

This wasn't a simple sparring match. This wasn't some arrogant sect disciple trying to suppress him.

This was a man who wanted him erased.

And yet—

Something inside him refused to yield.

Xu Qingyang gritted his teeth, channeling his spiritual energy into his wooden sword. A faint golden glow shimmered across its surface, weak but present.

A divine protection.

Fate's intervention.

Gu Tianxian's eyes flashed with amusement. "So there it is."

The world would never allow its protagonist to perish so easily.

But Gu Tianxian did not believe in inevitability.

"Come then, child of destiny. Let's see how much your heaven favors you before I tear it apart."

The battle was far from over.