I Am The Game's Villain

The battle between Roda and Braham had raged for nearly half an hour, yet neither of them had managed to gain a decisive edge. Blades had clashed, mana circles had flared, and the ground beneath their feet was scarred with the aftermath of their violent exchange. But it was becoming clear—Roda was losing ground.

Her breathing had grown ragged, her shoulders rising and falling in exhaustion. Her pale face was slick with sweat. She had been far from her peak even before the battle began—thrown into this timeline, her strength had already been waning. Now, she was burning through what little remained, pushing herself past the edge of what her body could bear.

And yet, despite it all, the Holy Tree that answered only to the Prophetess—still lent her its power. Even though she did not belong to this version of reality, it recognized her. It supported her. But it wouldn't be enough if she kept fighting like this. Something had to give.

Across from her, Braham stood, his clothes torn in several places, revealing gashes that wept blood. He grimaced with every breath but refused to step back. His furious eyes never left Roda. She was wasting his time—precious time he couldn't afford to lose.

A thought crept into his mind: Should he transform? His Hybrid Form was deadly, capable of turning the tide of battle in an instant. But using it now, so early, with opponents like Jefer possibly lying in wait… It was dangerous. He couldn't afford to spend all his cards just yet.

The resurrection of Behemoth was still incomplete. He had to ensure it succeeded—that was the only path forward. The only way to bring her back. To save his brother.

To the world, she was a monster. But to him? She was salvation. A being capable of healing the deepest wounds in the world, of defying the realm of gods, mortal shouldn't touch.

Just as that thought passed, something pulled his attention sharply back to the present.

He flinched.

Roda was changing.

No, she was releasing more Prana—far more than before. The ground itself seemed to pulse beneath her feet. He could feel it, heavy and alive, making the air shimmer with pressure.

This… This was on the level of a Demigod.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

"This amount… it's like Beatrice," he whispered to himself.

She reminded him of his monstrous Step Mother in her prime of strength.

The air trembled as Roda's Prana spiraled behind her. It churned like a storm, forming shapes, then limbs, then a great snout and long sweeping tail. Before Braham's stunned eyes, a colossal beast, or rather wolf—brilliant and pure—took shape. The beast floated behind Roda like a guardian spirit, its piercing eyes locked on Braham.

He took an instinctive step back.

"Just… who are you?" He muttered.

Roda didn't answer.

She raised her hand, holding one of her daggers. She pointed it at him—and in a blink, the white wolf vanished into motion.

A blur.

Braham barely had a moment to brace before the beast slammed into him with crushing force.

"ARGHH!" His scream was raw with pain as the wolf's claws raked across his stomach, tearing deep into flesh and rupturing organs. Blood sprayed into the air as he was launched like a missile, his body crashing through the ground and tearing through several buildings like they were made of paper.

Dust and debris filled the air in his wake.

As he pushed himself up from the cracked ground, Braham coughed out another mouthful of blood. It splattered dark across the stone.

That woman—whether she truly was Roda or some other trick—didn't matter anymore.

She was a threat. A monster. And monsters had to be killed.

He never wanted to raise his hand against Rodolf or Roda. They were just children once. But the future demanded sacrifice—and he had made his decision.

Grinding his teeth, Braham forced his battered body upright—

Only to be slammed back down as something—someone—struck him at blinding speed, the force driving straight into the gaping wound in his chest.

"ARGHH!!"

Pain surged through him like molten fire. A foot pressed down mercilessly into his stomach, reopening the wound that had barely begun to close.

Through the haze of agony, he raised his head, expecting to see Roda.

But instead, he saw Amael.

"You're dying here, Braham."

***

"You're dying here, Braham," I said, staring down at him coldly.

The gash across his torso was massive. Roda had done real work—impressive, honestly. She'd shown her fangs at last.

Braham growled and gripped my ankle with one trembling hand even as he bled out beneath me.

I didn't give him the chance to speak.

"Anathemas Fire."

-BOOOOM!!

A wave of purple flames erupted from my body, surging down like a tidal wave. They consumed him instantly, washing over his broken frame, the fire licking into the open wound in his gut.

"Ghhrragh!" Braham threw his head back, his scream swallowed by the roar of the fire.

I drew Trinity Nihil in a single, fluid motion, the blade gleaming with faint white light, and pointed it at his burning body.

"Your circus of little organization ends today," I saidl.

"It won't," Braham growled through clenched teeth.

The moment he spoke, every warning instinct I had went off.

I jerked Trinity Nihil in front of me just in time.

-BOOOOOOM!!!

It felt like getting hit by a goddamn aircraft. My sword arm went completely numb, the blade nearly torn from my fingers. The shockwave sent me flying like a ragdoll, hurtling across the sky until I smashed through the third story of a nearby building.

"Ughh…" I groaned, blood dripping from my mouth. My back burned. My ribs screamed.

I peeled myself out of the crater I'd left in the wall, stumbling down to one knee.

Everything hurt.

My vision blurred, but I could just make out the shape of Braham below a little far ahead, his body radiating a swirling, violent torrent of Prana. The air around him shimmered like heatwaves.

Shit.

"Was that you again, Cleenah? Saving my ass?" I said with a bitter laugh.

[<As always.>]

I grinned despite myself. "Yeah, yeah…"

Summoning every drop of strength, I shot forward, using Samara's power to launch myself through the wreckage, a blur of speed.

When I reached the battlefield again, I skidded to a halt.

Roda was locked in combat—if you could even call it that. She stood beside a massive white wolf, easily the size of a truck. They faced off against something—something I barely recognized.

It was Braham… or something wearing his skin.

He was huge now, easily matching the wolf in size. Coarse grey fur covered his body, muscles rippling with unnatural power. Two jagged horns jutted from his forehead, glowing faintly.

A beast. A monster.

He moved like lightning, slamming into Roda. She was flung backward, but her wolf companion took the brunt of the blow, growling as it was shoved away with her.

Then Braham opened his maw.

A pale, swirling orb of Prana—grey and white—began to form between his fangs, pulsing with lethal energy.

No time.

"Shit, that's bad—!"

Roda raised her hand to counter it, but pain hit her suddenly.

She froze.

Her expression twisted, pain blooming across her face. Whatever she was trying to do fell apart, her spell collapsing in on itself. Even her wolf began to flicker, its form unstable like it was being erased.

I tightened my grip on Trinity Nihil asI launched forward through the chaos. I reached Roda just in time, throwing my arm around her as the sky above split open with a crackling roar.

A massive beam of Prana, sharp and luminous, screamed toward us—tearing through clouds.

No time to think.

I spun, raising Trinity Nihil high.

"Vysindra—Circle of Six!"

Six blazing violet rings ignited around the blade, coiling like serpents of fire. With a roar of my own, I brought the sword down in a sweeping slash just as the beam reached us.

-BOOOOOOM!

The force catapulted us backward, but I kept my stance, my arms wrapped tightly around Roda. The blast burned through the air, rattling every bone in my body. But I didn't let go.

Before we could hit the ground, the white wolf appeared in a blur of fur and muscle, catching us mid-air and pushing us out of the blast radius.

"Ugh!" I grunted as we hit the ground, rolling with Roda in my arms. Dust exploded around us. I got back on my feet fast—just in time to see Braham already there, standing right in front of me.

"Shit—!"

He raised his clawed hand, Prana crackling between his fingertips.

But before the blow could land, something slammed into him from the side with incredible force—sending him flying across the buildings.

I turned toward the source.

Jefer.

He stood a few paces away, lowering his leg. He glanced between me and Roda, who was gasping for breath, her body trembling against my side.

"Get her out of here," Jefer said calmly, his gaze locking onto Braham's crumpled form. "Somewhere safe."

I looked at him, frowning. "You gonna kill that bastard?"

He nodded—just slightly.

And I believed him.

So he wasn't with Behemoth after all? I'd been so sure…

This just keeps getting messier.

Before I could ask anything else, I felt it—another surge of raw, suffocating power.

My head snapped toward Braham again.

Someone had landed beside him.

Tall. Pale. Long black hair cascading down his back like ink. Crimson eyes glowing calmly. He bore resemblance to Duncan Tepes.

Nikolas Tepes.

"What are you doing, Braham?" Nikolas said. "We have all the Horns. Let's head to Behemoth."

"Go ahead," Braham growled, his voice no longer human but beastly—like stone grinding against stone.

Nikolas turned toward Jefer and flashed him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Then, in a blink, he vanished, flying across the city, heading toward Behemoth, the Beast sealed here.

"We have to stop him!!" I shouted to Jefer.

He started to reply, but before he could even speak, Braham lunged.

Jefer barely got his hand up in time to block the incoming claws. The collision sent them both flying off again, vanishing into a mess of shattered stone and roaring Prana.

"Go ahead! I'll catch up." Jefer said his expression twitching as he glared coldly at Braham.

I turned to Roda, reaching out my hand.

She took it.

"Come, Edward," she said her voice sounding quite tired.

Calling back her wolf, she swung onto its back, and I followed suit. The beast growled low in its throat, then leapt into motion—bounding from rooftop to rooftop, chasing after the blur that was Nikolas Tepes.