I Am The Game's Villain

Morning light bathed Sancta Vedelia in a beautiful hue, its radiance touching the white leaves of the Holy Tree of Eden. The sacred tree towered tall as usual, its vast branches swaying gently as the wind carried its delicate foliage through the air, scattering a breathtaking spectacle of fluttering petals. It was a sight that never ceased to captivate those who laid eyes upon it.

Down at the bustling harbor, ships of all sizes docked and departed, their sails billowing as merchants and travelers poured in. Some arrived for trade, their vessels laden with goods, while others came simply to witness the grandeur of Sancta Vedelia. Yet, amid the usual influx of ships, one vessel stood out—a masterpiece of craftsmanship, leagues above the rest.

Sleek, polished, and constructed from only the finest materials, it exuded an aura of opulence. The moment it sailed into view, all eyes turned toward it, hushed whispers rippling through the crowd. It was clear that whoever was aboard was no ordinary traveler—only nobility, perhaps even royalty, could afford such extravagance.

When the ship docked, the gangplank was lowered down. A quiet anticipation settled over the gathered onlookers, each of them waiting with bated breath. And then—she appeared.

Stepping into view was a woman so stunning, so alluring, that even the concept of beauty seemed to pale in comparison. She was draped in a knee-length skater dress, a mesmerizing blend of black and pink, adorned with floral patterns that seemed to dance with the wind. The fabric fluttered just above her knees, revealing long, flawless legs that shimmered like porcelain beneath the morning sun.

Her jet-black hair were regally tied back, not a strand out of place. Though she wore sunglasses, they did nothing to diminish nothing of her beauty. Her figure was nothing short of perfection with curves that could bring men to their knees.

A collective hush fell over the harbor as jaws hung open, eyes widening in disbelief. Conversations halted mid-sentence, work forgotten, as the men and even some women stared in unabashed awe. It wasn't just beauty she exuded—it was a raw, irresistible magnetism.

With an elegant sigh, she lifted a delicate hand, summoning a luxurious folding fan out of thin air. "Phew, it's quite warm for a morning," she said, her voice tinged with sweetness sending shivers ran down their spines.

She flicked the fan open, waving it gently against her face, her gaze briefly settling on the towering Holy Tree of Eden.

As she descended the gangplank, the faint clack of her strappy sandals against the wooden planks resonated through the silent crowd. The moment her feet touched solid ground, four men dressed in immaculate black suits materialized at her sides.

One of them swiftly raised a large parasol above her head, shielding her from the sun. Another produced a chilled beverage, handing it to her with an exaggerated gesture. With a motion, she parted her pink, glossy lips and took a slow sip through the straw.

It was enthralling.

Every subtle gesture—the delicate flick of her wrist, the casual sway of her hips, the slow, measured blink of her lashes—was scrutinized with rapt attention. It was as if time itself had paused, forcing every soul present to bear witness to a young woman who embodied sensuality, power, and elegance in its purest form.

"I need something more than water to quench my thirst~," the woman said with a sultry sigh.

Immediately, one of her bodyguards dropped to one knee. "Anything you desire, Milady."

She took another slow sip from her drink, the cool liquid trickling down her throat, before a faint flush tinted her cheeks a soft shade of pink. Lowering her sunglasses just slightly, her dark pink eyes gleamed, her gaze shifting toward a distant point—toward something, or rather, someone.

"What I want," she smiled. "Only my Honey can provide."

Closing her fan with a snap, she strode forward.

"Let's go. I don't want to be sweaty when I meet Honey."

Her guards followed immediately.

"Yes, Lady Tarmias."

***

"Ugh…"

I woke up again after barely sleeping.

At this point, it wasn't even insomnia—it was something worse. Something heavier.

I'd probably gotten an hour of sleep at best, but it didn't matter anymore. Sleep had become a luxury I could no longer afford, not with everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Not with that damned prophecy hanging over me like a noose.

Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts an incoherent mess.

I'm really getting worse by the day.

The strangest part? I wasn't even sure if that was a bad thing.

I wanted to believe it was growth—some kind of twisted progress—but the truth was, I didn't feel guilt. Not anymore. Not for the things I'd done.

With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and stepped into the shower, letting the water run over me. When I was done, I sloppily tied my long hair back, barely caring about the loose strands that fell over my face.

I threw on fresh clothes—not my academy uniform. I'd long stopped bothering with that.

By the time I left the hotel, I probably looked like hell itself. Dark circles under my eyes, my expression set in a permanent scowl, my presence radiating exhaustion and disinterest.

It didn't matter.

The moment I reached the academy grounds, the change in atmosphere was immediate.

Hostility. Blatant, unfiltered hostility.

They weren't even trying to hide it anymore.

The way their gazes bore into me, the whispers that barely bothered to lower their volume—it was all there, out in the open.

Well, I guess that's what happens when you speak a little too freely after beating Dentiel into the dirt.

Not that I had lied.

None of them even understood the truth—that as long as Durathiel lived, the war would never end. They didn't even know who Durathiel was.

No wonder Sancta Vedelia was doomed in the game. No wonder Leon had destroyed them in the past timeline.

I ignored them.

Ignored their glances, their murmurs, their misplaced hatred.

I was heading straight to class—until a staff member stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

"The Headmistress has summoned you," he said..

Melfina? She was back already?

Guess I had no choice.

Without a word, I followed him toward her office.

I just hoped she wasn't going to waste my time with a worthless speech about my actions—how wrong they were, how I should have done things differently.

At the very least, I hoped she was better than the rest of those self-righteous fools.

When I reached her office, the staff member gave a curt nod and left, shutting the door behind me.

Melfina sat behind her desk, looking far better than the last time I'd seen her. She had recovered well.

"You look better," I muttered.

Melfina raised her gaze. "And you look worse than the last time I saw you. What happened, I wonder?"

"There's nothing to wonder about," I scoffed. "Your grandson and the other Heads decided to ban me from their countries."

"Rightfully so, don't you think?" Melfina said sternly, folding her hands on the desk. "You're smart enough to understand why they're angry."

"Yeah, I get their anger," I said, stepping forward but my gaze darkened. "What I don't fucking get is their ungratefulness. I'm the one who killed Durathiel and put an end to that damn war."

My hands clenched into fists.

"And during their whole useless speech, they listed every single thing I did wrong—except, oh, I don't know, saving their damn countries since I got here."

Melfina furrowed her brows. "Lower your tone, boy."

Clicking my tongue, I sank into the chair across from her.

"I can't do anything for you at this point," Melfina finally said after a long silence.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I replied, leaning back. "In a few weeks, I'm leaving Sancta Vedelia. It's over. It was good at first," I admitted. "But in the end, I'm back in the same damn place I was last year..."

Exhausted.

Tired of everything.

"You can interpret my actions however you want," I continued, my gaze locking onto hers, "but in the end, I saved people. I saved your granddaughter. I'm the one who asked Freya to send back Harvey Indi Zestella. I released all the prisoners and slaves from Utopia. And Freya? She's working to abolish slavery entirely—and that's because of me."

I let the words settle.

"That's something you people can never deny."

"I'm not denying anything you've done," Melfina said at last. "And I will always be grateful for it."

I was surprised but nodded. "Good. I just wish your grandson had taken after you instead of his father," I said, rising to my feet.

Melfina watched me about to leave before speaking again.

"Celeste will soon fully awaken as the Prophetess of the Tree."

Her words made me pause mid-step.

"So what?" I asked after a moment, glancing back at her.

"There's mounting pressure from the other Heads to secure an alliance—one that ensures Sancta Vedelia's future. They want someone strong enough to protect her, someone who can keep her safe." She folded her hands in front of her. "Right now, the odds are leaning toward Victor. In fact, discussions have been ongoing, but he rejected all of them. He told them Celeste was just a friend—and that you were a better candidate for her."

A silence stretched between us.

"...Unfortunately," she continued, "as you're well aware, no one wants you as her husband. It would be absurd, considering you're banned from their countries."

I frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

Melfina sighed and stood, her expression softening just slightly. "Listen, boy. I may be old, but I'm not blind. I know my granddaughter loves you deeply, and I can see you care for her just as much. But if you don't act, she will be married to someone else—the wrong man."

I turned toward her.

"What do you mean?"

"The name that keeps coming up for Celeste's betrothal is Cyril Raven."

"W–What?"

This can't be…

"He's strong, dependable, and next in line to inherit the Raven House. More importantly, he has the trust of all the major Houses," she explained.

"He's trash," I snapped. "And Celeste hates him."

Melfina sighed. "That may be true, but do you really think she has any say in this?"

I scoffed, but beneath my laughter, I struggled to suppress my anger. "You're seriously going to force her?"

"It's her duty as the Prophetess," she said simply. "She accepted it willingly. A few months ago, she was the happiest I've ever seen her—even I was surprised. It was right after you saved her at Dolphis. But now…she looks different. And I know you have something to do with that."

My fists clenched as I reached for the door.

"I can only delay it for so long," she added.

I stood there for a moment, silent. Then, without another word, I stepped out.