I Will Create a Good Ending for the Yandere Villainess

"Well... As expected, with someone with four eyes... The more eyes you have, the more vision you get."

Cicillian let out a mocking sigh, shaking his head with his eyes closed as though he felt sad for Norman.

He opened his right eye, glancing towards Norman's face, wondering what sort of expression he was making to his words.

All he found was a blank expression hidden behind a hand.

Norman, raising his fingers to the bridge of his glasses, pushed it. As though on a dramatic cue, his glasses flashed with a certain light.

"And this vision of mine that you speak of... Had already foresaw your demise by my hands."

Saying this, he flexed his arms, manifesting strips of steel in the air before wrapping himself in them as though they were delicate bandages.

Taking on the form of some kind of stiff metal statue, he caused the steel wrapped around his body to form edges and slits.

Like liquid, the metal morphed and shifted around until forming a rather impressive set of steel medieval armour.

Norman looked through the slits of his helmet and at Cicillian, finding him widening his eyes in surprise.

The blood mage, shocked by the new form that the edgy adult had taken on, then narrowed his eyes—within his pupils flashed a humiliated and furious light.

"You dare speak so highly of yourself?"

He raised his hand towards a nearby corpse.

"Don't think just because you're wearing some thin metal body suit that you are protected. Sure, well I may have fallen to your comrade rather easily..."

Using the blood found within the body, he created a crimson blade of blood with a menacing sharpness to it.

Waving it around, he pointed the tip towards the armoured Norman whilst slicking back his hair rather dramatically.

"You are by no means going to be defeating me as easily as she did to me."

Moving into a stance, his eyes drifted towards Charlotte, who stiffened at his gaze.

"And neither is she... From the way I see it, both of you are going to die."

Charlotte moved closer to Norman, whispering:

"So? What's the plan...?"

Silenced lingered for a moment between the two before Norman responded:

"Winning is always the plan."

After saying that, Norman leaned forward, manifesting a metal spear into his right gauntlet and dashing towards Cicillian, who snorted condescendingly at him.

Cicillian leaned forward, dashing towards him as well with a much greater speed compared to himself.

Midway through the blood mage's dash, Norman stepped back, stabbing forth his spear.

Cicillian tilted his body slightly to the side, raising his arm and letting the spear pass under his armpits.

His shoe dug into the ground, tearing through the grass as he pushed himself closer to the armoured individual.

Closing in the gap, he flicked his wrist up, lashing his sword like a whip as the blade extended a metre longer.

Norman slowly leaned back, unable to completely dodge the attack—

SKRRR!

—As a shallow diagonal gash appeared on his chest plate.

Cicillian smirked, "You're just a metal practice dummy! You're too slow!"

With his sword arm in the air, he swung down his crimson blade, intending to draw another diagonal line on Norman's chest plate.

However, coming out from behind the armoured individual, Charlotte appeared with her palms raised.

Pushing them out towards the blood mage, Charlotte let out a deafening sound from her palms that caused all three of them to reel a bit.

Watching as Cicillian backed away from them, giving Norman breathing room, Charlotte whispered:

"I'll support you from behind. Just make sure to protect me if he change targets..."

Norman gave a slow nod from behind his helmet, shaping his spear into a sword and tightly clutching it.

They looked towards Cicillian, finding him rubbing the side of his ear with a look of uncomfort.

"Sound? How annoying..."

Leaning forward again, he dashed back in, intending to skewer both of them onto his sword. But again, midway through, he was interrupted.

Norman swung his sword, colliding it against Cicillian's, who met it head-on.

CLANG!

A brief look of surprise flashed through Norman's glasses at the sound made by their clash.

Was this crimson blade also as durable as metal?

Cicillian pushed against Norman's blade, smiling, but then frowned as he felt himself get pushed back. He clicked his tongue at the metal mage's weight behind his push.

Disengaging from their clash and dashing back, Cicillian, drawing more blood from the surrounding corpses, shaped his sword into a spear.

Moving back in, he stabbed it towards Norman's chest.

Just as the tip of his spear was about to make contact, Charlotte appeared from behind Norman, shooting out another pulse of sound that disrupted his piercing attempt.

Cicillian felt himself get pushed back, his uniform fluttering at the wind created by the repelling soundwave. Due to this sudden attack on him, his focus was left distracted by her.

And because of this, Norman took the chance to move in and attack him off guard.

Cicillian, watching as a heavy shadow loomed over him, flickered his attention back towards Norman, finding him bringing down his sword.

The blood mage stepped back and—out of pure reflex—raised his forearm to block the slash, leading him to lose it.

Thud...

Stumbling back, Cicillian watched as his arm plummeted to the ground with a soft thud. Then, he turned his eyes towards his bleeding stump.

A look of annoyance spread across his face at the injury.

Clutching his stump, flinching a bit at the pain, he yelled:

"You wretched bastard...!"

He glared at Norman before declaring with a hiss:

"Alright! I have had enough of you rodents humiliating me!

"I'm going to pry you open from your armour like a tin can, sever and distribute your limbs like you were some play doll, and use your blood to obliterate your friend and that woman!"

Once his words left his mouth, red tendrils shot out from his bleeding stump, homing in on his severed arm that continued to lay peacefully on the ground.

The tendrils attached themselves to the stump of the arm, reeling it back like a fishing line catching a fish.

The arm was pulled into the arm, wiggling a bit as though alive, and returned back to Cicillian's shoulder.

The broken skin and severed muscle then began to heal at an alarming rate.

Cicillian flexed his arm, checking his control and strength over it.

After seeing that there weren't any issues, he tossed aside his crimson sword, letting it shatter upon impact with the ground.

Raising his hand, he summoned a silver rapier out of thin air. It had a circular golden handguard. Curling over the blood mage's hand that tightly clutched the hilt was a knuckle guard of solid gold threads.

Norman, alarmed at the sudden appearance of an item, pulled out his own, manifesting a longsword with a detailed design on its blade.

Without any further delay, Cicillian slicked back his hair, entering in a rather strict stance and lunged at him with blurring speed.

Norman moved to intercept him but was unable to contend with the vast disadvantage in speed as he felt something pierce through his shoulder.

Charlotte, who was standing behind Norman, flinched, watching as a thin blade exited out of his shoulder.

Stepping away, she was immediately met with the sight of Cicillian chasing after her, switching targets.

A sharp silver blur then flashed through the air, followed by the sudden appearance of a deep slash across Charlotte's chest.

The noblewoman widened her eyes at the realisation. Then, the burning pain erupted inside her mind.

Her eyes trembled as she watched as Cicillian went in for another attack. However, right before it happened, she yelled with a pain-filled screech.

Using her magic, she forced him back, sending him far whilst also scorching his ears with it, causing them to stream with blood.

But, with the appearance of blood leaking from his ears, he used them to quickly form a crude pair of earplugs, which he telekinetically stuffed inside his ears.

After enduring Charlotte's ear-bleeding scream and being forced metres back, he watched as the blonde woman fell back onto her rear, breathing raggedly at the wound on her chest.

Smirking sadistically and raising his rapier, he moved in again... But he felt as though he was forgetting something.

Due to the variables of having his ears stuffed to prevent being affected by Charlotte's magic, he wasn't able to discover the rapid footsteps coming towards him.

It was only in the corners of his eyes the reflection of a blade made its appearance.

The glimpse of his reflection caused him to turn on reflex—

CLANG!

—Guarding against the heavy swing from Norman.

But unlike before, the weight behind it wasn't as heavy, for some reason.

Cicillian drifted his eyes to the side, finding the empty shell of the steel mage's armour lying off to the side.

Norman had discarded it for speed.

"So, what?!" Cicillian laughed, pushing him back and disengaging, "Even without that hunk of heavy metal you wore, you're still far too slow!"

He declared, his voice louder due to having his hearing muffled.

The two then clashed once again.

CLANG!

And again.

CLANG!

And again...

Cicillian's need to boost his ego at the expense of others caused him to leave countless cuts along Norman's body and uniform—his blood leaking in several places.

However, his mood was constantly soured as Norman remained steadfast in his blocking.

Under his cool exterior, he was calculating his ways to win. He knew that, without a doubt, Cicillian wasn't currently abundant in mana.

Why else would he choose to go into melee combat instead of attacking from afar?

While this may be just to satisfy the blood mage's sadistic tendency, he was confident in believing this theory of his.

And the topic of mana was the same for him as well.

Creating the sphere to escape down the mountain, hunting monsters to increase their points, shaping and creating his armour. All of these had shortened whatever amount of mana he had.

However... that wasn't the same for Charlotte...

CLANG!

Norman grimaced under the weight of Cicillian's swing, stumbling back as he was persistently chased. Eventually, his steps brought him to a tree.

Feeling his back pressed against a tree, he glanced at it—a moment of panic spreading across his face. He then pulled his attention back to the front, finding Cicillian mercilessly swinging at him overhead.

Raising the flat side of his longsword, he blocked the strike, struggling under the weight behind the blow as he was forced further against the tree.

He then felt Cicillian's weight disappear from his sword, followed by something puncturing through his ribcage, stabbing through his heart.

Cicillian watched as the corners of Norman's lips flowed with blood that streamed down to his chin. He chuckled lowly, stepping back and slicking back his hair.

"Ah~..."

He spread his arms out widely, taking in the sight of Norman pinned to the tree.

"Now, ain't this a sight? You were one slippery rodent, I tell you... But all rodents die pathetically, in the end."

He then grinned condescendingly.

"At least you died less pathetic than most... Isn't that ideal?"

"..."

Norman didn't respond, nor did he really pay attention, even when Cicillian continued to rant on without finishing him off like a fool.

Currently, he was focused on something else. If he was going to die and respawn, he might as well hurt Cicillian's ego even further...

How, you may ask?

... By making him lose again.

That was the ultimate way of damaging someone's ego.

Bursting from the ground behind Cicillian were two metal spikes that burrowed through his back, exiting out the front of his body.

Cicillian spat out blood as his body was lifted off the ground at an angle. His eyes turned bloodshot at what went through his body.

The sight of metal caused him to angrily yell:

"Damn mongrel!"

He looked towards Norman, finding his body limp against the tree—the edges of his body already beginning to digitise into blue pixels.

He clicked his tongue frustratingly before looking back towards the spikes piercing through his body.

Fortunately for Cicillian, his heart was fine. While several parts of his organs were crushed, he could still at least transport the blood around his body.

He would look unseemly, but that was the price to pay for winning.

He wrapped his hand around a spike, trying to wiggle a part of him free. However, just before he could even begin, two hands clasped the sides of his head, keeping him still.

Cicillian glanced up, finding Charlotte's flushed red face as her breathing was ragged and harsh—the wound etched in her chest still bleeding.

In Norman's calculations, throughout this competition, Charlotte used as much mana as he had. Well... In the sense that she hadn't really done much.

He wasn't sure whether or not Charlotte's element used more mana than his, but for his plan to work, he had to gamble on the fact that she still had plenty of mana.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, woman!?"

Cicillian growled, using the blood that came from his body to manifest a floating crimson bullet.

Just before he could send and shoot it through the centre of the blonde woman's skull, he felt his world begin to vibrate.

Clasping Cicillian's head in between her hands, she began to inject his skull with sound, sending intense vibrations through it, which began to grow in brutality.

Cicillian felt his world spin, his vision vibrating and trembling at a fearful speed that caused him to begin breathing rapidly. He even began to feel as though his brain was breaking apart and melting.

He felt Charlotte's hands pressed against the sides of his skull, tightening their hold on him, pushing in and squeezing his head.

His eyes began to bleed. Even with the pain inhibitor from the virtual reality machine, it was unbearable and... It felt like brutal torture.

"S-stop!" He muttered before moving into a cry, "STOP IT, YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

Charlotte couldn't hear his cry, however, for the sound emitted by her hand had drowned out the noise. Even her ears weren't spared from her own attack, for it began to bleed as well.

But, she responded to his pleas. It just wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.

"Winning... Is always the plan..." She repeated Norman's earlier words.

And just a couple seconds later, of constantly pumping his head with intense waves and vibrations of sound, Cicillian went limp, his eyes red and his pupils rolling back.

Without delay later, blue particles appeared on his body, enveloping his limp body and taking his body to an unknown place.

Seeing this, Charlotte fell back on her rear, breathing deeply as she laid down, resting on the blood-stained grass.

She then murmured, her voice hoarse:

"I... did fight after all..."

Charlotte slowly drew her eyes back towards the timer.

[0h 19m]

She gave a sigh, her eyes glancing towards the name in her team, finding Norman's name crossed out with a timer beside it. Her gaze then dropped down to hers before moving further down.

Her eyes landed on Lillian's name and found it... Crossed out, as well?

She widened her eyes.

Lillian was eliminated?