The Continent of Destiny: I Became the Villain NPC

"Holy shit, a boss spawned!"

"Damn it, we can't hold! Where's the protagonist? Someone go get Riven!"

"Quick, get an Inspect on him!"

One player made a heroic dash toward Merriweather, managed to cast the skill and post a screenshot to the public channel, and was immediately surrounded by guards and hacked to pieces for his trouble.

[Name: Merriweather]

[Identity: Mayor of Silversky Town, Captain of the Guard (Temporary)]

[Power Level: Knight Lv. 11 (11-20)]

[Threat Level: Difficult]

[…]

"A level 11 Knight? Are you kidding me? We're mostly level two or three, how the hell are we supposed to fight that?"

"Can't even see his skills or equipment. The level gap is too big."

But Merriweather wasn't waiting for their complaints. He was already carving a path through their ranks. Even without his horse, his power was overwhelming.

"Charge with me!" he roared. His guards followed, forming a steel wedge that shattered the players' desperate defensive line.

This wasn't just about defending Silversky Town; it was about defending his own position as mayor. His eyes were bloodshot, and he glared at the players as if they were his sworn enemies.

"Damn, why are you yelling so loud!"

"The boss is coming through, get back!"

"Where the hell is Riven? Where's the goddamn protagonist?!"

With a nearly ten-level gap and a full Tier advantage, Merriweather was a force of nature. Even without using special skills, a mere graze from his sword would cripple them; a solid hit was instant death.

"Awakened! To me!"

Answering their desperate cries, Riven finally appeared, seeming to materialize from nowhere.

"Aegis of Sanctity!"

He raised his sword, and a soft white light enveloped him. Milky-white, shield-shaped barriers shimmered into existence around himself and every player within a ten-yard radius.

"Holy shit! The protag is a badass!"

"This skill is awesome! The guards can't even scratch me now!"

"When do we get to learn cool moves like that?"

Before the players could finish their exclamations, Riven raised his longsword again. A flashy, showman's grin spread across his face as he bellowed once more.

"Aura of Glory!"

VWOOM—

In an instant, the entire battlefield was washed out by a blinding golden light that erupted from Riven's body, turning him into a miniature sun.

"HOLY SHIT! MY EYES!"

"On this day, I have stared directly into the sun!"

"Goddamn Aura of Glory? Are you sure that wasn't a flashbang?!"

This, Riven thought with a smile, is the feeling of being the center of attention.

The blinding light lasted only for a few breaths before contracting, coalescing into a ten-yard golden ring of power at his feet. Every player standing within the aura felt a surge of strength, their stats enhanced, their hearts filled with newfound courage.

"Is the feeling of being buffed this realistic? It's even affecting my emotions!"

"I can feel the POWER!"

"DEMACIA!"

"Strike down the darkness with thunder!"

With a cacophony of war cries, the players launched their counterattack. Bolstered by Riven's two powerful buffs, the gap between them and the guards narrowed dramatically. The one-sided slaughter began to turn into an even fight, and as time wore on, the scales of victory slowly but surely tipped in the players' favor.

They could die, expend some experience, and simply run back from the spawn point, fully restored and ready to fight again. They were tireless and fearless. The guards, however, were not. They were growing exhausted, and the horde of brigands before them, though weak, seemed impossible to kill.

A guard parried a sloppy swing and ran his sword through a player's chest. He'd done it a dozen times already. But then he saw it. A familiar face in the crowd. The same player he had just cleaved in two was charging at him again, a manic grin on his face.

He was even yelling, "Guess who's back, asshole!"

"They're demons!" one of the guards shrieked in terror. "They are unkillable demons!"

"What are we fighting?!"

The realization spread like a plague. More and more guards recognized their slain foes returning to the fray. Fear shattered their discipline, and the rout began. The first guard dropped his sword and ran, and it was like lighting a fuse. Guards began to flee in droves.

"Cowards! You worthless cowards! Do not desert your posts!" Merriweather roared, his face purple with rage, but it was no use.

This is pointless, he realized, casting a wary eye at the armored knight in the players' midst who was glowing like a festival lantern. He knew he was no match for a warrior of that caliber. I have to get to the lord. Only the lord can save me now.

He rallied the few guards who hadn't fled. "All units, with me! Charge toward the manor! Break through!" he bellowed, turning his portly body and charging like a wild boar, sending any player in his path flying.

"Shit, the boss is trying to escape!"

"Mages! Use Chrono-Barrier! Use Mire! Use Frost Shock!"

"Fuck, do you think a Mage Apprentice can learn those skills? We have Fireball, Water Jet, and Wind Blade! That's it!"

"Warriors, get on him! Stop him!"

"These NPCs are too smart! They even run away when they're losing?"

One group fled, the other pursued, and soon the chaotic chase arrived at the steps of the mayor's manor. Merriweather was a wreck. His fine armor was slick with a mixture of sweat and blood, its padding clinging uncomfortably to his woolen tunic.

If only I had my horse, he thought with a surge of hatred. With his horse, he could use his Knight skills. These thugs would never have pushed him this far. Though individually weak, their sheer number of mages had pelted him with a constant barrage of low-level spells, and even his armor hadn't been enough to prevent injury. Only a dozen of his guards remained.

In the players' eyes, Merriweather's health bar was now below twenty percent. This was the execute range. Normally, a boss would enter a berserk phase here, unleashing devastating ultimate attacks. Wary of this, the players braced themselves.

"My lor—urgh!"

Merriweather had just opened his mouth to shout for the Lord of Frostfell when a fireball slammed squarely into his face.

"Nice shot!"

"You interrupted his ultimate! Get him, boys!"

"Kill the boss, get the loot!"

The players surged forward, screaming slogans as they rushed the cornered mayor and his remaining men. Every time Merriweather tried to speak, another perfectly aimed fireball would smash into his mouth.

Kermitcide stood at the back of the player ranks, a cold smirk on his lips, a new fireball spinning in his hand, ready to be launched the moment the boss tried to cast anything.

In the countless MMOs he'd played, he was what they called a "mechanics god." Interrupting a boss's cast based on its wind-up animation was basic for him.

"Radiant Cross Slash!"

A righteous cry suddenly rang out from behind the players. A massive, cross-shaped blade of pure light shot forth, striking the nearly-dead Merriweather. He disintegrated on impact, and the attack continued, unabated, until it demolished a small house behind him.

Poor Merriweather died without ever calling for his lord or reaching his horse.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, the players' voice chat erupted.

"...Bruh."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! THAT WAS MY KILL! Which one of you assholes KS'd me?!"

"Wait... that wasn't one of us. That was an NPC. DID AN NPC JUST FUCKING KILL-STEAL FROM US?!"

"So let me get this straight. We do 99% of the work, get the boss down to literally ONE HP, and then some pretty-boy 'hero' NPC swoops in and uses his goddamn ULTI to take the glory??"

"THAT IS SUCH BULLSHIT! "

"Ahem—"

Sensing the murderous glares of the players, Riven coughed awkwardly and quickly tried to smooth things over. "Justice has triumphed over evil. Merriweather met the end he deserved. Thank you for your assistance, brave Awakened. As an additional reward, you may take the armor and weapons he left behind, as well as any wealth he has accumulated."

The players' expressions softened. They had already gotten plenty of equipment and experience from killing the guards, and a protagonist kill-stealing was probably part of a cutscene anyway. As long as they got the loot, all was well.

"Yeah, the mayor's house must be full of good stuff. Let's go search it."

"Right? Those guards were broke. I haven't even seen this world's currency yet!"

Just as the players were about to storm the manor on a looting spree, a cold male voice, laced with fury, cut through the air like a winter gale. It brushed past their ears and sent a chill straight to their hearts.

"You slaughter my guards, murder my vassal, and now you intend to plunder my home? Have you no shame, or are you simply that arrogant to run rampant in my domain?"

They followed the voice, looking up. The confusion in their eyes slowly curdled into dawning horror.