I am Chosen Villain

The cold night wind howled through the courtyard.

Xu Qingyang tightened his grip on his wooden sword, its faint golden glow pulsing like a dying ember. The divine protection—a sign of fate's favor—should have reassured him.

But it did not.

Because standing before him, clad in shadows and silence, was a man who did not belong to this world's story.

Gu Tianxian took a step forward. His crimson eyes burned with amusement, but beneath that, a deeper intent—a hunter watching his prey struggle against inevitability.

"That glow… how fortunate you are, child of destiny." He exhaled softly, his voice neither mocking nor angry, but curious.

Xu Qingyang did not answer. He could not afford to.

His body ached. The shallow cut along his ribs burned, and the weight of Gu Tianxian's attacks still lingered in his bones.

But he stood firm.

The chosen ones never fell.

Didn't they?

Gu Tianxian's smirk deepened as if reading his thoughts.

"Do you think fate will always shield you?" He raised his dagger, its dark edge whispering against the night air. "Do you think destiny is an unbreakable cage, keeping you safe?"

Xu Qingyang's jaw tightened.

"What do you know of fate?"

Gu Tianxian let out a soft chuckle, one filled with something Xu Qingyang could not place—pity, perhaps. Or something far worse.

"More than you ever will."

And then he moved.

Xu Qingyang barely had time to react.

Gu Tianxian's Silent Phantom Step activated, his form flickering between existence and void. His dagger carved through the air—fast, merciless.

Xu Qingyang raised his sword to block—

Too late.

A sharp pain pierced his shoulder.

His breath hitched. Blood blossomed, staining his robe.

Gu Tianxian did not stop. His dagger twisted, carving a path of agony, forcing Xu Qingyang to stumble.

A protagonist—staggering.

For the first time in his life, Xu Qingyang felt weak.

Not in training, not in battle against weaker foes—but here, standing before something he could not understand.

Fate had always guided his path.

Why did it feel so fragile now?

Gu Tianxian pulled his dagger free, his expression unreadable.

"You're different from the others." His voice was quiet. "You are not arrogant, not foolish. That makes it more interesting."

Xu Qingyang gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead.

"If you think… you can kill me here—"

Gu Tianxian laughed.

Not cruelly, not mockingly—but as if he had heard something ridiculous.

"Kill you?" He shook his head. "Oh no, not yet."

His crimson gaze locked onto Xu Qingyang's golden glow, the faint divine protection that still pulsed beneath his skin.

"Heaven still favors you." He turned, his dagger dissolving into shadows. "For now."

And just like that—he vanished.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Xu Qingyang stood alone, his shoulder bleeding, his breath uneven. His wooden sword, still faintly glowing, felt heavier than ever.

Heaven had saved him today.

But how many more times would it intervene before fate itself began to crack?