I Am The Game's Villain

"Roda, are you okay?" I asked, worried as I clung to her from behind, trying not to get flung off the massive wolf's back as it raced through the night.

"I'm fine…" She replied, but the words came out in ragged gasps. Her breathing was shallow, and through the cracks of her half-shattered mask, I could see her expression—strained, pale, and barely holding on.

She didn't look fine at all.

This wasn't just exhaustion. She was weakening fast—too fast. I could feel it. Maybe it was the cost of meddling too much with the fabric of this world. Maybe her powers as a Prophetess were burning through her faster than she could keep up with.

Two Prophetesses in the same world… maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

If she kept pushing herself like this, she'd collapse. Or worse.

"Roda—"

"Edward, I'm fine," she cut me off. It was like she could hear the panic rising in my thoughts. "We have to stop him. If he brings Behemoth back—and then Deborah Dolphis… Our ancestors gave everything to defeat them centuries ago. We suffered terrible losses. We can't let those monsters return."

"I know," I said quietly. "I know. But don't push yourself too hard, alright? You're not alone in this. We're in this together. We'll stop that bastard—and we'll come out on top."

For a second, her lips curled into the faintest smile. It was weak, but real.

"Tell me," she said softly, "that offer you made… about your farmhouse… does it still stand? When all this is over?"

My eyes widened a little at the question, then I found myself smiling too. "Yeah. Of course it does. We'll fix this whole timeline mess. And if that bastard Leon found a way to survive… then you sure as hell can too."

That hope—no, that stubborn belief—that she had a future… it was what kept me going. I wanted her to have a place to rest. To live. She deserved that much.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I gave her a gentle nod, then turned my eyes back to the path ahead.

After a moment, Roda spoke again. "We lost him."

"Don't worry," I said, gripping the wolf's thick fur. "We know where he's going. You do too, right?"

She nodded slowly and rested her head against the wolf's neck. "Yes. I know where Behemoth is sealed."

As if sensing her intent, the giant wolf growled and leapt forward with powerful legs, its body cutting through the cold night air like a shadow in flight. The moonlight streaked past us as the wolf soared—then descended in a blur of speed, landing gracefully just behind the royal castle.

We were close now—only about a hundred meters out.

I looked up and spotted an old bronze statue, partially corroded by time and neglect. It depicted a man raising a sword high. Quinn Victor Raven. But the statue had been slightly shifted, revealing something hidden behind it—a dark tunnel, its entrance leading underground.

"What is it?" I asked, noticing Roda staring at the statue, her brow furrowed.

"It's strange," she murmured. "This place was protected… sealed by a bloodline barrier. Only someone with royal blood—someone like me—should've been able to open it."

Her voice dropped, and I could see a shadow of unease cross her face.

"Do you think they took someone from your family to force their way in?" I asked, glancing sideways at Roda.

She hesitated for a breath. "Maybe…"

"We don't have time to stand around. Come on, Roda," I urged, already bolting down the staircase two steps at a time.

There was no time to waste—he might already be down there, trying to revive the Behemoth.

After Behemoth had been defeated it—after Deborah had fallen—they sealed its monstrous body in this place. Its massive horns had been separated, distributed among three powerful Houses of Sancta Vedelia. No one had dared to destroy them. Maybe they couldn't. Or maybe... they simply didn't want to.

Behemoth's body itself was something else entirely. Indestructible. Eternal. A grotesque legacy of Deborah Dolphis, whose creations defied every natural law the world knew.

By the time we reached the lowest level, a minute had passed—though it felt like we'd descended through time itself. The air grew colder, denser, the faint pressure of mana and Prana thickening like fog.

We slowed our pace and crept forward into the arched tunnel ahead. The stone walls were etched with the remnants of mana circles—faint glimmers of spells once woven tightly in defense. Now, they were silent. Dead.

That alone made Roda tense beside me. I saw it in her posture, the slight twitch of her hand hovering near her blade.

"If Jefer hadn't saved our lives…" I murmured, "I'd have sworn this was his doing."

But deep down, I knew—it wasn't.

Roda suddenly halted. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating. "I can feel it… An overwhelming amount of mana…"

"Yeah." I met her gaze, giving a single nod. We didn't need to speak more.

Together, we rushed into the depths.

What awaited us was a cavernous hall carved in stone, stretching wide with a towering ceiling that loomed above like a cathedral. We had descended for nearly a minute despite our speed, and now the scale of it made sense.

I stopped dead in my tracks, breath caught in my throat.

There it was.

The Behemoth.

Even in death, it was a nightmare. At least twenty meters tall, its hulking body lay slumped forward, knees bent beneath it in a grotesque crouch. Black fur, matted and torn in places, clung to its skin in ragged clumps. Deep holes punctured its form—evidence of the previous battle. It was encased within a colossal glass cube, covered from top to bottom in layered mana circles, shifting faintly with energy.

Despite being dead—if it even was dead—I could still feel its presence. That monstrous pressure of prana, dense and terrifying. Or maybe… it wasn't the Behemoth.

Maybe it was the three horns.

They floated ominously above the glass cube, suspended mid-air, radiating pure Prana blended with something else.

"Stop that immediately!"

Roda's voice shot out. My eyes followed her line of sight—and there, standing near the edge of the cube, was Nikolas Tepes. His eyes were locked on the Behemoth, a smile on his lips. As he spoke, the cube pulsed violently, responding to his words like a living thing.

But it wasn't his voice that held me.

It was the other sensation—the flow of energy.

A thick, radiant current of something was pouring into the Behemoth's body… from someone.

My eyes snapped to the ground near the cube—and my breath froze.

"Amelia…?" I whispered, stepping forward in disbelief.

She lay there, limp and unconscious, her body bathed in a swirl of light. Her chest rose faintly, but her skin was pale, her face drained of color. Something—some force—was siphoning energy straight from her.

What the hell was going on?

What the fuck is John doing?!

"You're a little late," Nikolas said, barely glancing our way. His voice was calm—almost amused. "The process has already begun."

I stepped forward, fists clenched at my sides. "Then cancel whatever the hell you're doing. Now."

I wanted to move. Wanted to rip him away from the cube, from Amelia, from that abomination. But the truth held me frozen—I was terrified. One wrong move, and we might wake the Behemoth… or worse, kill Amelia in the process.

Nikolas tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as if reading exactly my worry. "If you pull the Dolphian Princess away in the middle of the Behemoth's resurrection, she will die instantly."

I bit down hard, grinding my teeth.

"Then we just have to kill you first," Roda growled beside me. Her daggers flashed out, glinting with deadly intent.

I glanced at Roda. She had already pushed herself to the edge against Braham—going toe-to-toe with a Monarch like Nikolas again might be too much.

"No," I said, stepping in front of her. "Support me from behind, Roda. I'll take the lead this time."

Without hesitation, I called forth Trinity Nihil.

The air shimmered as the Holy Sword materialized in my hand—sleek and radiant, its white edge laced with faint veins of light, pulsing with barely restrained divinity.

Nikolas raised an eyebrow. "So it's true," he murmured. "You really possess the Holy Sword… Edward Falkrona."

Roda's eyes flicked toward me for a brief second, widening at the sight of the blade. But there was no time to gawk.

I summoned my flame—the flicker of purple fire coiling around my form. The moment it burst into full bloom, I launched forward, Trinity Nihil raised high.

Stomping the ground, I brought the blade down toward Nikolas—but he moved with inhuman ease. A crimson mana circle bloomed between us in an instant, catching my strike as if it were nothing.

I leapt back just as Roda's wolf crashed into the barrier from the side, cracking it with raw prana force.

Nikolas's eyes narrowed. He glanced toward Roda with mild irritation—but his focus remained on me.

With a single motion, he sliced his hand through the air.

A sweeping arc of blood tore toward me like a blade made of screaming wind.

Shit.

That's bad!

"Aegis!" I called out instinctively, and the amber shield erupted to life before me.

The impact hit like a meteor. The force of it rattled through my arm, numbing my fingers. But the shield held.

"You won't win," Nikolas said. "Even if you could—it's already too late."

"Shut the hell up!" I shouted, thrusting Trinity Nihil forward.

In response, a whirlwind of white sand began to spiral at the tip of the sword—swirling faster, denser, like a miniature cyclone ready to detonate. The very ground trembled beneath my feet.

Nikolas's expression changed. His eyes flicked open just a little wider.

He raised his hand again, conjuring a complex array of eight interlocking crimson mana circles. Without warning, long whips of blood magic burst from them, lashing toward me like venomous serpents.

"Tch!" I groaned, leaping sideways. The whips cracked where I'd stood a second ago—but I didn't let go of the sand. I kept channeling it, gathering more of Fate.

At the same moment, Roda struck again. Riding low on her wolf's back, she surged forward and slammed into Nikolas from behind.

Nikolas was sent skidding across the stone floor, but he recovered instantly, flipping backward and landing on his feet.

My eyes snapped back to the cube—only to freeze in growing horror.

It was vanishing.

The massive glass structure, once inscribed with layers upon layers of ancient mana circles, was disintegrating before my very eyes. Each flicker of light peeled away like flaking ash. Worse yet, the stream of energy being siphoned from Amelia's unconscious body was growing stronger—more violent, more insistent. Her entire frame trembled as though she were being devoured from the inside out.

Shit.

No more hesitation.

I clenched my teeth.

I had to go all out—before that monster inside the cube awakened.

My right arm flared with raw pain and power as I summoned Wrath. Purplish particles coiled around my limb, and my arm trembled under the sheer force of it.

I'm going to kill this bastard.

Nikolas's gaze sharpened the moment he saw it. The cocky amusement on his face evaporated, replaced with something colder.

True wariness.

He didn't waste a second. Slamming his sword into the ground, he spread his arms ever so slightly—and a violent surge of crimson mana erupted around him like a tidal wave made of blood.

-BOOM!

The cave quaked as Nikolas's transformation began. He let out a wild, twisted laugh, his voice warping into something bestial.

"Ahahahaha!"

His form stretched—taller, leaner, more monstrous. Two blackened horns tore through his scalp, curling backward like the crown of a demon. His fingernails elongated into claw-like talons, and his lips twisted upward into a hungry snarl, revealing sharpened canines.

I didn't care.

I rushed him anyway, Wrath pulsing through me.

"Edward!" Roda's voice rang out in panic.

Instinct kicked in.

I veered to the side at the last second—and just in time. A blade slammed into the ground where I'd stood, slicing so close it carved a red gash along my cheek. Blood spattered as I landed and rolled, adrenaline roaring in my ears.

Nikolas's head whipped toward Roda. His expression darkened. He raised his hand, mana pulsing in his palm.

"I'm your opponent!" I shouted, surging forward and swinging Trinity Nihil, now fused with Wrath's power.

The blade was rejecting it but I ignored it.

-BOOOOOM!!

Nikolas summoned an eight-layered mana circle, crimson symbols spinning like a shield of blood. But as my blade struck, I forced more power into the swing. The holy blade screamed through the resistance, and with a crack like thunder, the mana circle shattered into shards of red light. The explosion that followed blasted both of us backward.

I hit the ground hard, my ears ringing—but then—

-Spurt!

I heard the sound of flesh being torn.

Blinking through the smoke, I looked up—and froze.

Nikolas stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief. His entire left arm, from the shoulder down, was gone—severed cleanly.

A figure stood behind him, her blade dripping with fresh blood.

Elizabeth.

She wore a calm, amused expression as she brought the blade to her lips, letting a droplet slide across her tongue.

"You should have invited me, Darling," she purred with a teasing smirk.

But then she grimaced, her nose wrinkling. "Ugh. Disgusting."

"Eliza—Elizabeth!" I gasped, rising to my feet. "We need to stop whatever he's done to Amelia! If the Behemoth wakes up—!"

Her crimson eyes flicked toward the center of the cavern.

To the towering beast.

To Amelia, who lay motionless, tendrils of energy still siphoning from her soul into the Behemoth.

Elizabeth's smile faded.

She narrowed her eyes, stepped forward—blade raised.

No—!

I reacted instantly, appearing in front of her in a blur. My hand shot out, catching her wrist before the sword could descend toward Amelia.

"E–Elizabeth?!" I shouted, eyes wide.