Reincarnated as the Villain: The System Made Me Overpowered-Chapter 63: The First Incursion

The battlefield was chaos forged into rhythm—reality itself warping with each clash of steel, spell, and will. Time cracked. Space folded. The sky rippled like shattered glass, reflecting moments from other realities, glimpses of lives not lived, futures that would never happen.

Valerian’s blade carved through the air with impossible precision, slicing into the first of the Others. The creature let out a shriek that splintered the sky like thunder cracking through porcelain. Its blood—if it could be called that—was a swirling mess of time-threads and shattered dimensions. The moment the blade touched it, the entity convulsed, then dissolved into light. But not before the wound pulsed once—then exploded into a scream of timelines collapsing. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

Behind him, Kael spun like a living inferno. The Others swarmed toward him, their clawed limbs reaching hungrily, eyes glowing with unnatural malice. But Kael’s fire wasn’t ordinary—it was soulfire, conjured from his very essence. These flames didn’t just burn—they unmade. They scorched ideas, incinerated cause-and-effect, melted identity. Every creature that touched him crumbled into dust that had never existed.

"You freaks wanna dance with the flame king?" Kael roared with wild glee. "Come on, then! Let’s BOOGIE!"

Higher up, Selene floated through the chaos like a divine mathematician. Her eyes shone with cold fury, fingers wreathed in spiraling equations made of starlight. Spells bloomed from her hands—each one a perfect expression of order. Sigils rotated in perfect formation. Arcs of geometric precision slammed into the Others, freezing them mid-leap, locking them out of sync with the world. They collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.

Below, Seraphina descended like judgment.

Her wings blazed—not with divine power, but with conviction. She was no longer Heaven’s puppet. She was her own god now. And every swing of her radiant blade carried her fury at that betrayal. She carved through corrupted angels and time-twisted beasts alike, each strike paired with a whispered prayer—not to some distant deity, but to the souls lost within the recursion.

And Lira...

Lira was the dark between stars.

She flickered through the battlefield, a ghost made of purpose. Where others fought with strength, she fought with precision. No movement wasted. No strike without death. She moved between enemies like a rumor, her twin daggers glinting with void-forged steel. One creature bared its fangs and roared inches from her face.

"Wrong move," she murmured—and drove her blade up through its throat and into its skull.

They were holding the line.

Barely.

But it was Alaric who turned the tide.

He charged into the thickest swarm of Others, his obsidian greatsword howling through the air like a void-song. Each swing ripped rifts in space. The horrors he struck didn’t bleed—they disappeared, consumed by ruptures that erased them from existence. He was a force of annihilation, wearing the face of a man who had survived too many wars.

Valerian found himself back-to-back with him, the rhythm of battle synchronizing them like twin storms.

"You always this grim?" Valerian asked, parrying a creature with too many eyes and no mouth.

"No time for smiles in hell," Alaric growled, cleaving through another.

"Fair enough."

Then, something shifted.

Another wave descended—larger, faster, more... refined. These weren’t foot soldiers. These were commanders. Their forms had evolved—some like inverted angels, wings of rust and eyes bleeding light. Others were molten beasts of collapsing time, exhaling entropy.

One stepped forward, towering above the rest. A crown of shattered stars embedded into its skull. Its arms were fused into twin blades longer than spears, etched with glyphs that pulsed in reverse.

"That’s new," Kael muttered, flames swirling around him.

Selene’s eyes narrowed. "They’re adapting to our tactics."

"Good," Valerian said, narrowing his stance. "So are we."

He launched forward.

The crowned horror responded, matching him blow for blow. Each strike sent tremors across the battlefield. Their battle was a cataclysm of blades and void. Chunks of the crystalline ground shattered. Rivers of glass burst into steam. Floating isles spun wildly, crashing into each other.

And worse...

The Others organized.

In the rear, a cluster of horrors gathered in a circle, chanting in a language older than time. The sky turned red, then gold, then inverted. A storm swept over the battlefield—a temporal storm. Time itself began to rewind.

Kael’s flames flickered. His attacks reversed mid-air. Seraphina’s sword halted, then moved backward—undoing the fatal blow she had just delivered.

"No—!" Selene snapped her hands together. "NOT TODAY!"

A glowing rune burst beneath her—a temporal anchor, latching their group to her fixed point in time. The storm shrieked and fizzled out like a failing circuit.

"Nice catch," Valerian shouted through the chaos.

Selene didn’t smile. Her gaze burned. "I can break time too."

Then, the earth screamed.

A seismic tear split the battlefield. The very fabric of the world ripped apart at the seams. From the abyss rose a monolith—a tower of writhing shadow and recursive light. It didn’t just pulse—it resonated, singing a song of impossible futures.

At its peak stood a figure.

Clad in armor of cracked code and mirrored runes, his face was hidden behind a porcelain mask—featureless, mouthless, perfect.

Alaric’s face went cold.

"I know him."

Valerian gritted his teeth. "Who is it?"

Alaric didn’t look away. "The Echo."

Valerian frowned. "Echo... of who?"

Alaric turned to him grimly. "Of you."

Silence.

The figure raised his hand.

Everything stopped.

The battlefield went still. The Others stepped back. Even the light froze—rays of sunlight paused mid-air like frozen needles.

The Echo descended, floating without sound.

Wherever he stepped, reality healed. Cracks sealed. Broken time rejoined. His presence didn’t warp the world—it corrected it, as though he were the true equation and everything else... a mistake.

He stopped a few feet from Valerian, tilting his head.

"You are the anomaly," he said, his voice vibrating through the bones of all who heard it. "The recursion-breaker. You should not exist."

Valerian raised his blade. "You sound just like the system."

The Echo spread his arms.

"I am the system," he replied. "Perfected."

Kael stepped forward, fire flaring again. "Oh, hell no."

The Echo raised one finger.

Kael vanished.

One blink, and he was gone.

"KAEL!" Selene screamed, turning frantically. "No, no, no!"

Valerian took a step forward, eyes blazing. "What did you do?!"

"He was a variable," the Echo replied. "I removed him."

"Give him BACK!" Valerian roared, flames igniting along his sword.

But the Echo ignored him.

He turned.

Behind him, a shimmering distortion opened—and then multiplied. Not just one portal. Thousands. Gateways to every reality, every recursion, every twisted world where the Others had already won.

And from each—Others came.

Endless. Unstoppable.

The sky darkened.

Selene’s face went pale. "This... this is an invasion. Not of this world. Of every world."

Seraphina raised her sword. "Then we stand here."

Lira reappeared at Valerian’s side, her daggers coated in blood and glowing. "We fight, or we fall."

For a moment, Valerian hesitated.

Can we win?

He saw the answer in their eyes—Seraphina’s fury, Selene’s brilliance, Lira’s lethal calm. And in memory, Kael’s fire still burned.

Valerian raised his sword.

"Then we end this here."

Alaric stepped beside him.

"TO THE LAST!" he bellowed.

The world cracked.

And the war for all of existence truly began.

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