I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 47: Fuck You, Raphael!

Chapter 47: Fuck You, Raphael!

"Well, I had to come get you for training," Raphael groaned, effortlessly pushing her hands away. "Who knows? You might try to run off."

So that was the issue?!

This man was too disciplined for his own good. Or maybe he just really wanted to see Verena’s "readings" of his future.

By now, students had started gathering, whispering amongst themselves as they watched what looked suspiciously like an ex-couple bickering.

"Yeah, well, you’re giving them the wrong idea!" she hissed, glancing around at the growing audience.

"So?"

She clenched her fist. This smug bastard.

"Verena? Raphael?"

A quiet voice cut through the tension, making Verena freeze.

Turning their heads, they found Evelyn standing there, clutching her bag.

Verena swallowed hard.

Before she could say anything, Raphael wasted no time. "Oh, my love!" he declared, striding over and pulling Evelyn into his arms with a smirk directed straight at Verena.

This bitch is doing it on purpose.

Evelyn looked startled at first but, after a brief pause, accepted the hug. Meanwhile, Beatrice had quietly moved to Verena’s side, watching with a wary expression.

"What are you two doing?" Evelyn asked, glancing between them.

"Verena challenged me to a duel," Raphael said smoothly.

"Not a duel!" Verena snapped, before hesitating. "Well... fine. You can call it that."

Like hell she was going to admit she’d agreed to train with him.

That would give all the wrong impressions. Just the thought sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

Besides, if there was anyone who could stand toe-to-toe with Norvan, it was him.

Raphael wasn’t just skilled. He was perfectly suited for battle. The makings of a great warlord were already there, just waiting for the right moment to bloom.

"Want to watch?" He suggested to Evelyn.

In the end, all three of them went to the arena. It was dawn already, the sun falling down the horizon.

Raphael and Verena changed into training clothes with an armor cover from the knees, elbow, and chest.

Verena barely had a moment to take it in before Raphael tossed a wooden practice sword at her feet.

It landed with a dull clunk, unimpressive and insulting.

"Pick it up," he said lazily, rolling his shoulders. "Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself too quickly."

The bastard was out for blood. Not real blood—he wouldn’t dare—but enough humiliation to ensure she’d never try anything funny infront of Evelyn because he wanted her to himself.

He wanted her cowering, admitting that she had no business standing beside him, let alone trying to fool him.

Evelyn sat on the sidelines, gripping the edge of her seat, unease radiating from her. "Raphael, you’re not going to—"

He shot her a lazy glance. "What? She asked for this."

Verena exhaled through her nose.

Fine. If he wants to play dirty, I can play along.

She picked up the sword, testing the weight. It was heavier than she expected, but not impossible.

She took a stance, probably wrong, but whatever.

Raphael smirked, lifting his own training sword with ease. "Try and land a hit."

The words barely left his mouth before he lunged.

She saw a blur of motion, and before she could react, the impact slammed into her wrist, sending a numbing shock through her arm.

The sword nearly slipped from her grip.

Fast. He’s too fast.

"Tch," he clicked his tongue, stepping back. "Come on, you’re the one who said you could see fate. Did you not see that coming?"

Bastard.

She adjusted her grip and tried again.

This time, she swung first, but he deflected effortlessly, turning her momentum against her.

Another strike.

Again, he dodged with an infuriating ease, making it clear he wasn’t even taking this seriously.

He’s toying with me.

Fine. If he wanted a show, she’d give him one.

Again and again, she struck.

And again and again, he evaded, effortlessly twisting around each attack.

If anyone was watching this, it must have looked ridiculous.

Verena flailing like an idiot while Raphael danced around her.

Evelyn’s face paled. "That’s enough, Raphael—"

But Raphael was enjoying himself far too much.

"Enough? We haven’t even started yet."

His next strike wasn’t just a block. It was a punishment.

The sword cracked against her thigh, sending her stumbling.

A sharp sting spread across her leg, and she bit her lip to keep from wincing.

He leaned in, voice low. "Do you get it now? I don’t know what funny business you’re trying to pull, but you can’t beat me. Not yet anyway."

She was getting nowhere. He was too fast. Too skilled. There was no way she could win.

But then, she felt it.

A pulse. A flicker of something unfamiliar threading through her fingertips.

For a split second, the world around her seemed different like she was watching it from a step outside of time.

Raphael’s movements, once unpredictable, now felt visible.

The way his weight shifted, the way his muscles tensed. Everything told a story.

It was like watching the weave of fate unravel before her eyes.

She barely registered what she was doing when she stepped forward, faster than she should have been able to move.

Her blade lifted. Not with hesitation, but with certainty. Precision.

The tip of her practice sword cut through the air and—

Rip!

The sound was quiet but unmistakable.

A clean, precise tear in the fabric of Raphael’s shirt, right across his shoulder.

Everything stopped.

Evelyn’s hand shot to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.

Raphael himself stood frozen, looking down at the torn fabric with something unreadable in his expression.

Verena, for her part, was equally stunned.

What the hell did I just do?

Then, slowly, Raphael’s lips curled into something that wasn’t amusement. It was darker. Something dangerous.

"Well, well..." He rolled his shoulder, tossing the practice sword aside like it was nothing. "Seems like I might have underestimated you."

Evelyn bolted to Verena’s side, eyes flicking between them with clear distress. "That’s enough! Training’s over!"

Raphael didn’t even glance at her. His focus was entirely on Verena. "You’re hiding something," he murmured. "That wasn’t beginner’s luck."

Verena swallowed.

She didn’t know what just happened. One second, she was losing.

The next, she knew exactly where to strike.

But more than that she saw something in Raphael’s expression that sent chills down her spine.

Interest.

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