Reborn as the villain in the game

-The roar of the crowd was a tangible force, a wave of energy that vibrated through the stadium as the match began.

- But the deafening cheers were abruptly silenced, replaced by a horrified hush, as figures emerged from the shadows.

- They were cloaked in midnight-black robes, their faces obscured, and their silent, coordinated movements sent a shiver of dread through the air.

- I watched, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, as they moved with unnatural speed toward the arena. - The guards, once a symbol of security, were rendered helpless in an instant, frozen in place as if turned to stone.

- The teachers and officials met the same fate, their bodies unconscious laying on the ground as the dark tide swept past them.

- The majority of the hooded attackers ignored the chaos they had created, their focus narrow and chillingly precise.

- They surged toward the center of the field, where the protagonists' team stood.

- With brutal, silent efficiency, they took down the other team, who crumpled unconscious to the ground with a single touch.

- Then, as if on cue, they all turned their attention to the two remaining figures: the hero, Allen, and the Saintess Rose, who stood beside him.

- My mind raced, trying to find an explanation, a pattern, anything to make sense of this.

- This was the moment Allen was supposed to step up. In the original storyline, the Allen I knew was a beacon of courage.

- He was a force of nature, a hero who met every challenge with unwavering resolve.

- He was not just brave; he was a fearless leader who would have instinctively moved to protect the Saintess and rally against this threat.

- But as I looked at him now, my hope curdled into confusion and deep unease.

- This was not the Allen I knew. The hero who was supposed to be a pillar of strength was strangely, terrifyingly weak willed.

- He stood paralyzed, his eyes wide and vacant, his hands trembling violently at his sides.

- He wasn't taking a proper defensive stance or preparing to unleash his power; he was a deer in the headlights, a portrait of pure, unadulterated fear.

- He didn't even move to shield the Saintess, who stood beside him, her face a mask of concern and confusion as she looked at him.

- This was wrong. Fundamentally, disturbingly wrong. His cowardice wasn't a character flaw; it was a bizarre, unnatural anomaly that made no sense in the context of who he was supposed to be.

- Something was afoot that went beyond a simple deviation from the plot.

- I couldn't understand why he, of all people, was so consumed by fear that he was useless.

- A cold certainty settled over me. I couldn't rely on him. The hero was inexplicably gone, replaced by this terrified stranger, and the Saintess was in mortal danger.

- I knew I had to act, but my motivation was no longer just to save them.

- It was a burning need to understand what had happened to Allen, to find the reason for this horrifying change.

- I pushed through the stunned crowd, rushing forward, knowing I had to fight the hooded figures.

- I used 'Flashstep' ability, a desperate gambit to reach them in time.

- In a fraction of a second, I blurred through the air, the world around me becoming a streak of color as I covered the distance.

- I arrived just as one of the attackers lunged at Allen, their blade glinting in the dim light.

- I parried their attack with a deafening clang of steel on steel, the force of the blow jarring my arm.

- Without hesitation, I redirected the momentum and plunged my own blade into the attacker's chest, ending their threat in an instant.

- I looked at the others, the fear and confusion in their eyes a stark contrast to my own grim determination. "Relax," I said, my voice low and calm, but the enemy is too numerous for me to use a high-level spell without harming you.

- I knew I had to be precise, to be surgical in my approach. As I spoke, I became aware of a presence beside me, a figure whose fighting prowess I knew well, It was none other than Noah.

- He had seen me arrive, his hand already glowing with arcane energy forming around the hilt of his blade.

- A silent understanding, forged in the fires of competition, passed between us.

- We nodded to each other, a wordless agreement to coordinate our attack.

- I left him to stand guard near the petrified hero and the vulnerable Saintess, a decision I made with complete confidence in his abilities.

- As I turned, I let a wave of my own power wash over me. I instantly materialized a thick mist around the entire arena, shrouding us all in a cloak of swirling white.

- The world became a silent, disorienting void for my enemies.

- This was my domain now. I moved with a predator's grace, silently and swiftly eliminating them one by one, a cold and practiced precision guiding my every move.

- I could sense Noah's magical blade flashing through the mist nearby, each strike accompanied by the faint crackle of arcane energy as he dealt with his share of the attackers.

- The mist, a tangible extension of my will, remained until we had both finished our grim task.

- As the last of the attackers fell, the mist dissipated, revealing the gruesome tableau of bodies scattered across the arena.

- The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the gasps of the onlookers and the faint hum of residual magic around Noah's sheathed sword.

- I went back to Noah and the others to check on them but there was no injuries and I and Noah disappeared from the scenes as soon as we ended it.