I Am The Game's Villain

"What in the world is happening…?"

The air was filled with smoke, ash and mana within the royal castle. Shattered marble and flickering torchlight painted a scene of chaos, as Priscilla clashed swords with the charging Hybrids, her Fangorian Knights and a handful of her students battling at her side. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned toward the gaping window—once a grand stained glass, now broken by Elizabeth's earlier outburst.

Her eyes widened in horror. "It can't be…"

"No… no way…" Another Knight gasped, his voice trembling.

The battalion of Fangorian Knights faltered. Some laughed nervously, others went pale. Before them, beyond the wrecked walls of the castle, a titanic figure loomed over the capital—a monstrous being that eclipsed entire buildings with its sheer size. Streets crumbled under its steps. Homes, towers, spires—nothing stood untouched in their rampage.

Even a blind man could've known what they were seeing.

"…Behemoth," John muttered under his breath, saying what everyone was thinking but too shocked to voice aloud.

Victor stood beside him. "H—How the hell?"

John's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. Without warning, he darted forward, leaping straight out of the shattered window in a burst of reckless speed and desperation. He was convinced that Amelia was there.

"J–John?!" Victor reached out instinctively, but his hand grasped only air.

He was gone.

Victor swore under his breath, scrambling into his coat pocket and fumbling for his phone. He dialed furiously. "Come on, Amael… pick up…"

No response.

He cursed again, glancing back toward the towering Behemoth tearing through the city like a nightmare given flesh. His hand tightened into a trembling fist as he stepped forward—only for a firm grip to catch his arm.

It was Selene.

"I have to help them," Victor said.

Selene didn't let go. "It's not just that. Celeste is gone."

Victor froze. "What?!"

He turned quickly, eyes scanning the room. Where Celeste had once stood, now there was only a chunk of ice shielding Cylien, who lay wounded on the ground.

"She must've escaped after Cylien got hurt protecting her," Selene said. "She's probably chasing after him too… just like my sister."

Him was clearly Amael here.

"Then we follow them!" Victor said.

He bent his knees to leap—only for a thunderous explosion to erupt just outside the castle walls. The shockwave sent a blast of wind roaring through the shattered window.

"Victor!"

In a flash, a figure tackled him to the ground. They both hit the floor hard just as debris rained from the ceiling where Victor had been standing.

"Urggh…" He groaned, dazed. "S–Sirius? Are you okay?!"

Sirius grunted, his back searing with pain. "Y–Yeah… just a little crispy…"

"Sirius!" Sephira's voice rang out as she rushed toward them, fresh blood staining her blade. She had just finished off the last Hybrid in her path and sprinted over, worry etched across her face.

She dropped to her knees beside him, reaching into her belt pouch and pulling out a small crystal vial.

"Stay still," she said, uncorking the container. She poured the shimmering contents over Sirius's back. He hissed in pain but didn't resist.

His body was already trying to heal—the perks of vampiric regeneration—but not fast enough. Not in the middle of this warzone.

Victor's gaze fell on Sirius just as he shifted, trying to sit up despite his wounds. His back had already begun to knit itself together, the charred flesh healing unnaturally fast—but something caught Victor's eye.

'Wait… what is that?'

Etched into Sirius's skin, just beneath the scorched remnants of his coat, were strange crimson markings. They pulsed faintly, like glowing embers, as if something stirred within.

"What… what is that on your back–"

"We have to help Amael and John. There's no time to waste," Sirius spoke up standing up.

"No! You can't!" Sephira stood up. She looked at him, trembling. "You're in no shape to fight—it's too dangerous!"

"Sephira…" Sirius whispered, turning to her. His hand reached out slowly.

Sephira's fingers slipped into his, clutching tightly, as if afraid that if she let go, he'd vanish.

"P–Please… don't leave me," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. Her eyes shimmered with tears she didn't let fall.

Victor clenched his fists.

He looked past the ruined wall again, where the monstrous Behemoth continued its merciless rampage through the capital. Screams echoed through the air, the ground trembling beneath each thunderous step of the creature. Then his eyes fell back on Sirius and Sephira.

He turned to Selene.

"Let's finish off the remaining Hybrids with Professor Priscilla," he said having taken his decision "Then we go. We'll find Amael and Elizabeth."

He was worried about Celeste but she couldn't be safer than by Amael's side.

Selene gave a stiff nod. Her eyes, like his, were still fixed on the distant silhouette of the Behemoth.

She had a very bad feeling about this.

That was why she hoped Elizabeth would have stayed here.

Because what lay ahead wasn't an ordinary monster.

***

The capital of Fangoria was descending into full-blown chaos.

Streets echoed only with screams and the sound of collapsing stone. The invasion of Hybrids had already shattered the city's defenses—but now… now it was worse.

Now, the nightmare of legend had returned.

Behemoth—the apocalyptic creature born from the twisted experiments of Deborah Dolphis—was here.

And it wasn't just walking.

It was running loose, trampling buildings, dragging everything it touched into ruin.

Hope was fading.

In one of the fractured districts of the city, a different kind of storm was raging.

A brutal fight.

Mana crackled in the darkened skies above as two figures clashed—each barely recognizable between the smoke and dust. On one side stood Jefer Moonfang, the prodigy child of the Moonfang royal bloodline and the youngest Monarch of his generation.

On the other side was something monstrous.

A horned Hybrid once known as Braham Moonfang. Once a prince. Once a brother.

Now, a monster and leader of Behemoth.

-BAM!

Jefer landed a clean hit, his heel smashing into Braham's chest and sending him crashing into the stone street below, pulverizing the cracked tiles beneath.

Dust exploded into the air.

Jefer landed nimbly on a nearby rooftop, panting, his eyes not leaving the crater.

But Braham didn't stay down.

He rose again, leaping onto the same rooftop with ease. He smiled widely, blood dripping from his lips.

His eyes turned to the distant form of the Behemoth—and widened with glee.

"Finally…"

So close. So very close.

He had waited for this moment for so long. Watched from the shadows. Endured in silence. Now, it was all within reach.

This wasn't just revenge.

This was revolution.

A new age for Sancta Vedelia was coming—an age where the forgotten, the scorned, the outcast would rise. Where those like him, and even his brother, would no longer be chained by their status.

"Why are you doing this, Braham?" Jefer asked.

Braham turned slowly. "You already know why."

"What happened to our parents… it was a tragedy, yes. But you can't make an entire kingdom bleed for than," Jefer replied.

Braham chuckled bitterly.. "The kingdom? You mean the same kingdom that feasts while children starve in the alleys? That praises nobles for their bloodline and casts the rest aside as worthless? It's rotten, Jefer. The system is diseased. And it needs to be torn down."

"And so you turn to her?" Jefer asked coldly. "A mass murderer who bathed in blood two centuries ago. You really believe she's the one who'll bring salvation?"

"She's not just a killer," Braham said, eyes gleaming with conviction. "She's a liberator. Deborah Dolphis can break the chains binding all of us. She was born of rebellion… she'll set us free."

"You sound insane," Jefer said softly, disappointment darkening his gaze. "I thought… I hoped there was still some sense left in you."

Then he raised his hand.

"Brother."

-BOOOM!

Braham's eyes widened in pure disbelief as golden mana circles suddenly materialized around him—nine-layered arrays, forming a perfect cage. They shimmered above, below, and on all sides, each one pulsing with pure mana. They hadn't been there a moment ago.

"W–When did you—?!" Braham was dumbfounded.

"When you were ranting," Jefer replied. His yellow eyes glowed dark. "You were too caught up in your fantasy to notice."

The mana circles pulsed again, the pressure building like an oncoming tidal wave. The very air began to distort with heat and force.

"There are always consequences to becoming a Hybrid," Jefer said. "You're not just stronger. You're no longer whole. A half-beast of Prana. Vulnerable where you used to be sharp."

"You—!" Braham growled.

"Release."

-BOOOOOOOM!

The surroundings erupted in light.

The nine circles ignited all at once, unleashing a devastating blast of fire and wind. The heat came in waves—like golden razors—slicing through the air. Shockwaves rippled outward, flattening entire city blocks. Windows exploded, houses themselves uprooted, and the earth itself cracked beneath the pressure.

When the smoke cleared, Braham was still there—but barely.

He collapsed to his knees, coughing blood, his chest heaving. His skin was scorched and blistered, his clothes hanging off him in tatters. Smoke rose from his burned body.

"Agha…" He chuckled weakly through the blood. "You got me good, Jefer… Now I understand why she chose you… why Mother chose you to carry on her will. Not me. Not Brian…"

His head dipped slightly. "You're a monster…"

Jefer stood above him, his face pale and his breathing shallow.

"No," he whispered. "Mother wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you."

He looked away.

"But you let hatred blind you. You let madness turn you into something she wouldn't even recognize."

Braham laughed as blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. His form, once monstrous, began to shift back. The horns dissolved into smoke, the beastly features softening into something more human.

He looked up at Jefer through hooded, weary eyes. "And what about you, Jefer?" He asked. "Do you truly believe what you're doing is right?"

Jefer didn't answer.

"Think about Dereck. Connor." Braham's voice grew hoarse, but he continued. "You once saw Kleines as a hero. We all did. But after one taste of pain, look what he became…"

Braham's eyes glinted with something painful.

"The world doesn't need another idealist, Jefer. It needs someone who understands suffering—someone who can erase it. Deborah… she can end everyone's pain. She can restore what we've lost. What you've lost. All she needs is the keys, our keys."

Jefer stared at him.

"I believe in what I do," he said. And I have no regrets."

Braham smiled faintly at that, blood continuing to trickle down his chin. "You've grown up," he whispered. "Stronger than any of us… maybe even stronger than her."

Then he looked up once more.

"Edward Falkrona," he said. "I kept my word. I haven't been able to kill him…in the end. But his time is coming, Jefer—whether you like it or not and whatever you believe he is…it is too late now. Even you can't do anything about it—"

-Thud!

His body gave out mid-sentence, crumpling to the ground.

"Jefer!"

A voice called out behind him, followed by a gust of air.

Rodolf landed heavily on the rooftop. On his shoulder was Ralf.

As soon as they touched down, Ralf wriggled himself from Rodolf's shoulder without waiting, stumbling slightly before crawling toward Braham's collapsed body.

"Brother!!"

Rodolf's expression was unreadable as he stared at the unconscious figure.

"So…" He said slowly, "you finally took him down, huh?"

Jefer didn't answer. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, sweat clinging to his brow as he fought to steady his breath. His gaze was no longer on Braham.

He was staring at the horizon.

Behemoth.

The monstrous creature had reached the edge of the capital—but now it had stopped. Even from this distance, Jefer could see it. Tiny sparks of mana flashed around its feet. People were fighting it.

He clenched his fists.

"We have to go," Jefer said. Without waiting for a reply, he pushed off the rooftop and launched forward in a streak of yellow.

Rodolf grunted, watching him go for half a heartbeat—then cracked his neck.

"Tch. Always rushing in."

He followed, the rooftop cracking beneath his leap as he chased after his brother.