I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 130: Training As A Team (1)

Chapter 130: Training As A Team (1)

"So, I’ve heard what the trial will be," Raphael said first, breaking the silence in the empty classroom.

Thank the stars this man was on their team. With him around, their chances shot up to a solid 99 percent.

Not a perfect score, of course. Fate now seemed knotted like a cursed ball of yarn, ready to tangle them up at any moment.

"What is it," Penelope leaned forward, visibly intrigued.

Raphael nodded, his voice taking on that calm, irritatingly confident tone he did so well. "It’s called the Labyrinth of Ascendance."

The first major trial for all first-year students at Irasios Academy, the Labyrinth of Ascendance was a personalized astrological crucible that tested the alignment between a student and their Zodiacal Affinity.

Hidden beneath the academy and threaded with ancient leyline currents and celestial magic, the labyrinth was semi-sentient and ever-shifting.

Upon entry, each student would undergo Astral Synchronization—a dramatic moment where their natal chart projected into the air like a mystical AR display, and the labyrinth reshaped itself accordingly.

The maze responded not only to their inherent Zodiac sign but also to the current Rotational Influence of the constellations.

If your sign was in Diminution, the path extended, winding further into uncertainty.

If your sign was in Ascendancy, the labyrinth grew harsher, testing restraint and ego rather than raw power.

It wasn’t just a maze. It was a magical performance review.

Three gates waited inside, each themed around one of the elemental domains: Fire, Earth, Air, and Water.

Every student faced three randomized elemental trials, which might not align with their Natal Affinity at all.

The Fire path was a trial of willpower and emotion, often laced with illusions of fear, temptation, or unresolved longing.

The Earth path challenged physical endurance, requiring brute strength, stability, or sheer patience as landscapes shifted and puzzles pressed down like stone judgment.

The Air path was a cerebral nightmare of riddles, traps, and twisted logic puzzles in rooms that folded space like origami.

The Water path dealt in symbolism, intuition, and moral ambiguity, forcing students to make emotional decisions that left lingering self-doubt in their wake.

Then came the Zodiabeasts—mythic entities born from the distilled essence of each Zodiac sign. These weren’t just monsters. They were cosmic midform in creature form.

Aries charged headfirst, daring students to strategize or get trampled.

Gemini split into contradictory illusions, speaking only in riddles.

Each beast was a manifestation of the Zodiac Weave itself, and every encounter reflected something deeper about the student: their choices, fears, and spiritual alignment.

The entire trial was solitary, introspective, and emotionally exhausting.

It was the magical equivalent of locking someone in a room with their horoscope and a mirror for six hours.

And now, thanks to Raphael’s intel, they knew exactly how intense it would be.

"God, everything’s moving at breakneck speed," Verena muttered, resting her cheek against her palm.

And it wasn’t even the end of the damn first semester yet!

It is what it is...

***

The training ground was set in a secluded, open-air arena, just a short walk away from Irasios Academy’s main building.

The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows over the sparring mats and wooden dummies.

It was an ideal time for some practice—or, at least, it would have been, if not for the constant interruptions from certain... distracting individuals.

Raphael stood in the center, his stance as calm and collected as ever.

His sword hung loosely by his side, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were sharp and calculating.

Today, he was here to train Verena, Penelope, and Isolde in the art of swordplay.

"Well, well, well," Raphael began, glancing between the trio of ladies before him. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

Penelope, as usual, was full of flair. Her sword glinted in the fading light as she twirled it with the grace of someone performing in a play rather than preparing for a fight.

"Oh, Raphael, darling, you simply have no idea how much I love swordplay!" Penelope announced dramatically, striking a pose with her blade pointed to the sky as if she were some kind of divine heroine in a tragic play. "But tell me, should I make it look more elegant? Or deadly? Or, perhaps... flamboyant?"

She swung her sword in a wide arc, clearly aiming for the training dummy, but her stance was so over-the-top that she almost tripped over her own feet.

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "I’d say focus on not tripping first."

Penelope paused mid-spin, her lips pouting slightly in mock offense. "I was merely testing the air! You know, Raphael, you really ought to give a lady some time to breathe."

"Right..." Raphael muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. "Okay, you’re doing great. Keep it up."

Next up was Isolde.

Standing with perfect poise, her expression was unreadable, and she held her sword with deadly precision.

When she moved, it was like watching a predator. Silent, efficient, and frighteningly graceful.

She advanced towards the training dummy, her movements smooth and fluid.

Her sword was an extension of her will, cutting through the air with deadly intent.

Each swing felt like it could cleave a man in half.

It was no surprise—Isolde had been trained in combat for years and it showed.

No flair, no grand gestures, just pure, unadulterated skill.

"Isolde, maybe try not to scare the dummy too much?" Raphael called out with a wry smile as she cleaved the wooden post in half with a single strike.

Isolde didn’t respond, her focus entirely on the next swing as she dispatched the training dummy with ease.

It fell into two pieces with a satisfying thud.

Raphael shook his head. "...Okay, so you’re too good. Got it."

And then there was Verena, who had, to her surprise, fallen behind.

She wasn’t out of shape—not by a long shot—but her swordplay was a bit rusty.

She hadn’t had a proper session in weeks, and it showed.

She gripped her sword, her stance decent but lacking her usual flair.

Her strikes were stiff, mechanical, and more focused on precision than form.

She slashed at the dummy, but her movements were more "practice mode" than "battle-ready."

"Hey, you’re still better than Penelope," Raphael remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

He tossed a knowing glance in Penelope’s direction, who was struggling to untangle herself from the sword that had somehow gotten caught in the air.

Penelope gasped dramatically. "How rude! You wound me, Raphael! I’m merely gracing the air with my brilliance."

Raphael sighed. "Yes, very graceful. Now, Verena... you know the basics. Let’s try to get you back into shape."

Verena nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching into a half-smile. "I haven’t done this in a while. But I’m sure I’ll catch up."

"That’s the spirit." He looked her up and down, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he said, "Okay, I’ll help you out."

Penelope, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately perked up. "Wait! Hold on!"

She dropped her sword with a dramatic clatter, causing everyone to glance in her direction. "Raphael, you can’t just leave me out of this! I, too, can train Verena! I have the best ideas for how to train her!"

Isolde, who had been silently observing, didn’t even look up from the ruins of the dummy she had just destroyed. "Hah. Please. You couldn’t train anyone."

"Excuse me? You think I’m not capable of teaching a few sword tricks?" She raised her chin defiantly, her eyes narrowing into a playful glare.

"You both want to train Verena?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Of course I do!" Penelope declared, her hand on her hip. "I’ll teach her how to look fabulous while holding a sword. It’s all about the presentation, darling!"

"You’re welcome to try," Isolde said, her voice smooth as silk, though the challenge was clear in her eyes. "I’m sure you’ll get her killed within minutes."

"We’ll see about that. I’ll have her fencing in no time, looking effortlessly chic while doing it."

Raphael smirked. This was about to get interesting. "All right, all right. Let’s settle this. Penelope, you get five minutes. Show me how you’d train Verena. If you can convince me, you’ll get the chance."

"Oh, I’m so glad you asked. Prepare yourself, my dear Raphael. You’re about to witness the art of swordplay... Penelope-style."

She twirled her sword and leapt dramatically toward Verena, who took a step back, unsure of what was coming.

"First, we begin with style. You have to make an entrance. Watch closely."

Penelope began performing a series of exaggerated spins and swirls, as though she were on stage rather than preparing for a fight.

The sword barely touched the air, her footwork more like a dance than a battle tactic.

Verena, trying hard not to laugh, raised an eyebrow. "Penelope, are you serious?"

"Of course! All great warriors make a grand entrance," Penelope declared, spinning once more, before tripping over her own feet. "Whoops! That was intentional. It’s part of the charm."

This was just the beginning of their training.