I Am The Game's Villain

Alvara blinked trying to process my words then understanding them she narrowed her eyes. "Y–Your human jokes are despicable!"

She snapped, pushing herself up from her seat.

I reacted instinctively, reaching out and grasping her arm before she could step away.

"I deeply apologize, Your Racist Highness," I said teasingly.

Not long ago, she would have torn me apart for touching her, especially since she wasn't wearing her arm gloves today. But she didn't.

Instead, she stiffened and averted her gaze, raising her umbrella slightly to shield her face.

"Let go…" She muttered meekly.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

I "In a month, I'll be gone. The Heads banished me. I won't be coming back."

"Eh?!" Bryelle gasped, turning to me in shock. "B–But you can still come to Vanadias, right? Mother didn't ban you!"

I shook my head. "The others… they all insulted me, Bryelle. I might not have shown it, but I have my own pride. I won't linger in a place where I was spat on—where everything I did for them meant nothing."

Alvara's grip on her umbrella tightened. "What about your kingdom?" She asked, her voice unusually hesitant. "You won't even see your mother and sister?"

I hesitated. "I… don't know."

Could I face them, knowing they'd never look at me the same way again? No matter what I did, the image Kleines painted of me—the so-called 'truth' he forced into their minds—would never fade. Every time they saw me, they'd be reminded of it.

I'd rather not be here to see that look on their faces.

But I didn't blame Christina or Alea. Not at all.

I only blamed my own naivety. Thinking that simply telling them about my past life would be enough for them to accept it? That was foolish.

After more than a decade of searching, they had finally reunited with their lost brother and son. Of course, the worst possible timing to reveal such a truth was at that moment. My words about my past life had likely been drowned out by their emotions—overshadowed by the sheer joy of seeing that familiar face again.

And now, I was paying the price.

"Well, I'm definitely going to miss you guys," I said with a small smile.

"W–Where will you be? Maybe we can meet up?" Bryelle asked hesitantly, her eyes searching mine for an answer.

Where will I be?

I had no idea.

I'd been banished from the only two places I should have called home.

Sure, I planned to join the Academy at Edenis Raphiel, but that was still more than a year away—almost two. Until then… where was I supposed to go?

"Utopia," I muttered without thinking.

The word left my lips before I could stop it, and for a moment, I was surprised by my own answer.

Strangely, people in Utopia had treated me even better after learning I was Loki—on top of that, I was also the Guardian of their new World Tree. I hadn't stayed long enough to truly understand their intentions, but I had a feeling Freyja had something to do with their change in perspective.

"U–Utopia?" Bryelle repeated, her face paling slightly.

"Don't worry," I reassured her. "I'd probably be in Elyen Kiora. It's not the capital, and it's much better than the mess over there." I paused before adding, "But it's still pretty far from Sancta Vedelia, so don't force yourself if it's too much."

"I–I don't mind, but…" Her voice wavered as she looked down at her legs, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress.

Right. Even if she wanted to, traveling wouldn't be easy for her. Not in her condition.

"May I see them?" I asked softly.

Bryelle blinked at me, momentarily confused, but eventually gave a small nod.

Alvara, however, shot me a sharp glare, clearly displeased. I ignored her.

I knelt and carefully lifted the hem of Bryelle's skirt just above her knees. The moment I saw them, my stomach twisted.

Burns. Severe ones.

My fingers curled into fists. The bastards who did this to her…

"It's ugly, isn't it?" Bryelle's voice trembled, as if she were bracing herself for my reaction.

"No," I said, meeting her eyes. "Don't worry. There's a way to heal your legs."

Bryelle's widened her eyes. Even Alvara looked stunned.

"R–Really?" She asked, hopefully.

"Yeah," I nodded, offering a reassuring smile. "These kinds of injuries are nothing for Maria."

"Maria?" She repeated, confused.

"The Saintess of the Holy Garden," I clarified.

Bryelle's eyes widened in shock before her expression dimmed. "But… we aren't exactly on good terms with Celesta…"

That was just how things were. The heads of Sancta Vedelia had always treated Celesta like some third-rate country, looking down on them for as long as anyone could remember.

Obviously, Celesta wouldn't send their Holy Saintess just to treat a single girl's legs—even if that girl was a princess.

"Who cares about those morons?" I said with a scoff. "I'm on excellent terms with Maria. She'll do it for me."

Well, it will be either Maria or Seraphina, we will see who will end up becoming the Saintess.

"Really?!" Bryelle's eyes lit up, her head tilting slightly, hope sparkling within them.

"Yeah." I leaned back against the bench, stretching my arms.

"Another woman, huh?" Alvara groaned, loud enough for me to hear.

I grimaced at her pointed stare.

"She's a friend."

[ <For now.> ]

Shaddap.

"Besides, do you have a better solution?" I shot back. "Even Sancta Vedelia hasn't been able to treat Bryelle's legs, right? Knowing you, I'd bet you've searched for a cure more than anyone else. Or did her other family—the Elaryons—magically find something?"

The moment I mentioned the Elaryons, Alvara let out an audible snort. "Those whores wouldn't find anything even if it were handed to them on a silver platter."

"Elder sister…" Bryelle murmured, pouting slightly.

Alvara looked away, her expression hardening.

I sighed, then reached for her wrist and pulled her down onto the bench beside me. "Now sit down and tell me what's wrong."

"Ah—" She landed a little too close, her shoulder briefly brushing against mine before she quickly shuffled away, putting distance between us.

She shot me another glare, but what caught my attention was her grip on my hand. She was holding it tighter now—whether unconsciously or deliberately, I couldn't tell.

This woman… acting so shy yet so damn defiant at the same time. She was going to drive me insane.

After a long moment, she finally looked away and opened her lips.

"They refused to take Bryelle."

"Take her?" I frowned.

Alvara nodded. "After my father's death, we thought of sending Bryelle to live with the Elaryons. She's the daughter of the eldest sister of the current queen, so logically, she should've been safest with them. But they…" Her golden eyes darkened, her voice dripping with barely restrained anger.

I turned to Bryelle, whose expression had dimmed, sadness settling over her features.

"They said they didn't want the bastard daughter of a manwhore," Alvara spat.

A dangerous wave of golden mana flickered around her, swelling with her anger. She was barely holding herself back, but I could feel it—her hatred for the Elaryons ran deep.

I stared at her, momentarily speechless. Then I blinked.

"…Who the hell said that?" I asked, utterly dumbfounded.

I couldn't believe it.

Namys Elaryon said that?

No way. That wasn't like her at all. If anything, she would've welcomed Bryelle with open arms.

"Aerinwyn…" Alvara spat the name with pure contempt.

I should've figured.

Wait—how old was Aerinwyn at the time?

…Fifteen?

Damn, she really wasn't messing around, was she?

"Since that day, we cut all ties with them," Alvara continued, her golden eyes flashing with cold satisfaction. "We never spoke of alliances or anything else. Not like that whore is worth wasting time on."

A cold smile curled on her lips.

I let out a short laugh, leaning back against the bench. "Now I get why you hate her so much."

Alvara scoffed, but I pressed on.

"But, you know… I don't think she meant it." I tilted my head, watching her reaction. "As much as she acts like an annoying 'whore,' like you say, she actually cares a lot about her family. She cared a lot about her elder aunt, too. So I'd bet she said those words just to force you Teraquins to keep Bryelle where she was safest."

Alvara's glare darkened, but I ignored it and continued.

"I mean, she already suspected her uncle and aunt were plotting something, right? Knowing that, she probably made sure Bryelle stayed far away from them. If anything, I'd say she did it because she cared about her."

Bryelle's eyes widened slightly, a small light flickering in them. But Alvara…

Her grip on my hand tightened—so much that I wondered if she was actually trying to crush my fingers.

"Why are you defending her?" She asked coldly. "Is she also one of your women?"

"Where the hell did that come from?"

Alvara narrowed her eyes. "Who knows how many more you haven't named yet—especially from that forest."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Please, forget that ever happened."