Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 95: The Shattered Coins

The Shattered Coins

Gpin exhaled sharply through their nose, a chill in the sound. The air between words turned stiff. Silence followed, heavy like frost on stone.

A crack through the air, laced with something stiff-backed. It cut without warning.

A sudden twist of his hand sent old copper coins spinning upward. High above, they broke apart - each tumbling piece catching the glow from the hanging lights below.

Breath caught in throats across the room.

A sudden flicker raced through Gpin’s fingertips just as the coins began to drop. With movements sharp and precise, his palms snapped shut in an intricate pattern - joints locked tight, blood vessels rising like threads beneath the surface.

"Rise."

From his throat came a quiet sound, yet it held firm control.

Midway through their rise, the sixty-four copper coins stopped.

They trembled.

A hush fell before they started turning, drifting into a ring shape, their dim light pulsing like something breathing after long stillness.

Heavy air pressed down like a soaked blanket.

Cold air crept in. The warmth slipped away like sand through fingers.

A sudden wave of clapping broke out among the people.

"That’s true skill..."

"To control sixty-four coins at once..."

"Impressive."

Mike Valquin’s mouth fell open.

"These Black Magic masters are actually this capable?"

He had expected incense smoke and chanting.

Not aerial coin formations like something from a myth.

Gpin lifted his chin slightly, basking in the admiration. His chest swelled with confidence.

Let White Hills see this.

Let them understand.

He pointed sharply at Master Togou.

The floating copper coins shrieked through the air like a storm of spinning blades, cutting toward Togou in a tight formation.

The sound was vicious—metal slicing wind.

Yet Togou did not move.

His expression remained cold.

"Such a petty trick," he said with disdain, "and you dare show off in front of me?"

He extended one hand calmly and shouted,

"Sword, come."

Behind him, a young Exorcist disciple tightened his grip on the Justice Sword.

The moment Togou’s words fell—

The sword trembled violently in the disciple’s hands.

Then it ripped free, soaring into the air with a thunderous hum.

A flash of silver.

A streak of cold light.

The Justice Sword sliced forward.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

A single coin split first, then another followed - each cut sharp down the middle. Copper halves fell apart under steady force, piece after piece giving way.

Shards fell like brittle hail, smashing into the stone below.

In mere breaths -

Thirty-two old coins out of the original sixty-four got smashed.

A hush fell across the room. Stillness settled where noise had been.

Fear washed over Gpin’s features, leaving them ghostlike.

His lips trembled.

Something about them felt different right away. Not your everyday kind of thing at all.

Old things kept because they belonged to people long gone. Their value came from time, not money. One person after another held them tight through years nobody remembers now.

The tremble in his fingers made holding on to the leftover coins difficult.

Yet the blade of justice pressed on without pause.

Something chased without stopping, its sound sharp like a blade cutting air.

Flooded with despair, Gpin’s eyes dropped low.

Fury split his voice as he stared hard at Togou.

"Master Togou! Must you go to such extremes?!"

His eyes showed nothing at all.

"Do you think you can challenge me without paying a price?"

Quiet came through each word. Stillness lived inside what was said.

Yet their force broke things faster than steel ever could.

Gpin’s face lost all color. A stillness settled where warmth had been moments before.

A lump rose in his throat, shame pressing hard behind his ribs.

"Today... I was rash."

Quietly he spoke, each word pressed down by pretend modesty.

"I hope Master Togou will show mercy."

A small grin pulled one corner of Togou’s mouth upward.

"That’s more like it."

A tiny motion started it. His fingertip snapped forward without warning.

The blade pulled away without warning, turning smoothly as it returned to his hand.

Falling loose, the leftover coins tapped a hollow rhythm on pavement.

Gpin rushed forward, collecting the broken pieces with trembling hands. His expression was dark—equal parts grief and hatred.

He had not earned a single Euro today.

Instead, he had crippled his family’s legacy.

The other Exorcists stared in stunned silence.

Several who had been eager moments earlier now shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

If Gpin—renowned for his sixty-four coin formation—had been defeated so effortlessly...

What chance did they have?

A billion Euro suddenly felt very far away.

Togou held the Justice Sword upright and stroked his beard slowly, exuding the aura of a victor surveying fallen foes.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge me?"

He swept his gaze across the room.

"If not, I will take on the Valquin household’s matter."

Arrogant.

Dominant.

Unchallenged.

The hall felt suffocating.

Then—

"I will."

A voice cut through the tension.

An elderly man stepped forward.

His face appeared youthful despite his white hair, his gaze sharp as winter frost. His Exorcist robe was worn and slightly dirty, yet the aura around him was steady and profound.

No one dared to underestimate him.

"Senior Vyom..."

Someone whispered.

In the northern Black Magic circles, his name carried weight.

Togou glanced at him briefly.

"Show me what you’ve got."

Senior Vyom snorted.

From within his sleeve, a thin red string floated out.

It did not fall.

It hovered.

Glowing faintly.

Like a fiery serpent awakening.

The red thread began to twist in the air, radiating heat and a subtle vibration that made the skin on one’s arms prickle.

The crowd erupted again.

"That’s his Fire Binding Thread!"

"I heard it can restrain spirits directly!"

Mike slapped his thigh in excitement.

"Damn! These guys really have some skills! I should learn a few tricks to impress girls."

Julian didn’t even look at him.

"That would take you at least ten years."

Mike blinked.

"Ten years?!"

Julian’s golden eyes remained on the forming battlefield ahead.

"And that’s assuming you survive the first."

The red string coiled higher.

The Justice Sword gleamed coldly.

And in the center of the grand hall—

Another clash was about to begin.