I Am The Game's Villain

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."

Alvara cast a fleeting glance at me before slipping her hand from mine—only for me to grasp it again almost immediately.

Her brows knit together in mild annoyance, but to me, that expression only made her look more endearing. If she truly despised this, she would have already smacked my hand away without hesitation.

"Do you even care that I'm leaving, Alvara?" I asked, stroking my chin. "We won't see each other for nearly two years."

"So what…" She replied with an hard to read expression

I held her gaze for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us.

I suppose that was expected.

After everything she had been through, after the pain inflicted on her by humans—by men—it was only natural for her to remain guarded. No matter how much time had passed, some wounds didn't heal so easily.

And maybe… I was rushing things.

After everything that had happened to me recently—meeting the real Amael inside me, the words he left me with. Then what happened with Kleines, Christina, and Alea, and finally, my banishment—I had let too many dark thoughts fester inside me.

Alvara had been an exception to all that. A bright spot. A good thought amidst the negative mess in my mind.

I had saved her from her doomed fate as a major antagonist in the Utopian War. I had learned more about her than I ever thought I would. And somewhere along the way, before I even realized it, I had developed feelings for her.

But expecting something more—pushing for something more—was selfish of me.

She wasn't ready. And I was only trying to rush it because I was desperate for something good to hold on to.

Was this what depression felt like?

Then, as if to add the perfect finishing touch to my miserable thoughts, my mind drifted to Claudia's prophecy—one that foretold my death.

Of all the misfortunes and tragedies I had endured in the past months, this was the cruelest truth of them all. Because unlike Alvara, whom I had saved, unlike the countless other fates I had altered… mine was already sealed.

It had to happen.

And the worst part?

I had no intention of leaving Sancta Vedelia until the end of the Second Gale anyway.

So, yeah. The chances of me dying were looking pretty damn high.

"Nothing," I muttered, releasing her hand.

Then, without another word, I stood up and walked away.

For a brief moment, I sensed hesitation from Alvara—something unspoken lingering between us—but I didn't stop. I didn't look back.

I shouldn't be pathetic enough to expect love from someone in Sancta Vedelia.

As I walked, I heard Cleenah's voice.

[<I'm here, Edward. Annabelle and Samara too.>]

A small, fleeting smile appeared at my lips.

"Yeah..."

But I wasn't that much of a fool, Cleenah.

I'd been naive when I first transmigrated here two years ago. Hell, I was still naive in many ways. But when it came to her… I wasn't stupid.

She was going to leave me.

I could feel it.

I knew it.

Maybe, deep down, I had always known.

It was just a matter of days now, and yet, I had never dared to bring it up. I was too scared to even say the words aloud.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I clung to the faint hope that I was wrong—that I was just overthinking.

So instead of confronting it, instead of hearing the truth from her lips, I chose to pretend.

To hope.

"Am I really going to die, Cleenah?" I asked quietly.

She had always known about the prophecy. And prophecies… they always came true. Yet she had never once spoken to me about it. Maybe she didn't want to burden me with the inevitable.

Still, I wanted to hear it from her.

[<I don't know, Edward.>]

There was no lie in her voice.

At least she wasn't telling me yes.

"Has anyone ever escaped a prophecy before—?"

[<Edward…>]

"Right…"

What was I even hoping for?

I came to a stop, lifting my gaze to the sky.

I should start writing farewell letters.

To Amael's family—at least to explain.

To Aunt Belle, Orlin, and Tihana.

To John—I had to tell him about Yanis and Marlene. With them, maybe they could do something about the Third Game. Eric was there as well.

And eventually… Layla, Miranda, and everyone else I cared about—everyone I thought I still had time with.

Also Ephera…

Damn it…

My fists clenched at my sides.

This can't be how it ends…

"Brother Amael."

I turned toward the voice that called out to me, already knowing who it was before I even laid eyes on him.

Of course, it had to be him.

"Allen, what's up?" I asked casually.

If there was one thing that had truly shocked me since coming here, it was Allen's transformation. The arrogant, selfish man I once knew had seemingly disappeared, replaced by someone... different. He had changed—completely. The entitled, ruthless prince was now humble, almost subdued. The women he had once mistreated? He had taken responsibility for them, not just as an obligation, but as something deeper. They were now his concubines, yet the way he treated them was more like beloved wives. I had seen it firsthand—how they clung to him, how they gazed at him with admiration, even love.

Was it genuine? Or was it just some twisted version of Stockholm syndrome?

Did it even matter?

Regardless of the reasons, he treated them well, and they seemed happy. I couldn't ignore that. Allen had been trash before, but people could change. To keep holding onto old grudges when the person in front of me was making an effort to be better... that would just be petty.

But why the heck was he calling me 'brother'?

"My mother is calling for you," Allen said, though he avoided meeting my eyes.

I nodded and walked past him, heading inside the castle.

The throne hall was exactly as I remembered the last time I came. Queen Tanya was in the middle of a discussion with several nobles, but the moment she noticed my presence, she waved a hand, dismissing them without a second thought.

"Your Majesty," I greeted her.

When I had first met Tanya, I hadn't liked her. Not even a little. But the war had changed things—changed her. She had been betrayed by her own son, seen the people closest to her turn their backs on her, and in the end... I had been the one to save both her daughter and her adopted daughter. Whether she admitted it openly or not, that had shifted something between us.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?" She asked.

"That's the plan," I said. "But I want to at least finish my time at the academy before leaving Sancta Vedelia for good. Until then, I'll be staying at a hotel near the academy. Thank you for hosting me until now, by the way."

She leaned her cheek against her fist nodding her head. "It was nothing much."

Then her eyes narrowed slightly. "Something happened between you and Alea?"

Something, yeah…" I muttered, not really in the mood to get into it.

Fortunately, Tanya seemed to understand and didn't push.

"I heard you asked my daughter to leave for Utopia," she said, smoothly shifting the conversation.

"Yeah. Freyja is currently nurturing the Tree, but with Alvara's help, it might grow even faster. I just need Alvara to assist Freyja for a few days."

"Does my daughter's involvement in growing the Tree of Ymir bring any advantages to our Kingdom?" Tanya asked, her piercing gaze locked onto me.

I laughed softly at her question.

Of course, she would ask that.

Above all else, she was a Queen. Every decision she made had to be for the benefit of her kingdom. Even when it came to her daughter, there had to be something in it for Vanadias.

"Yes," I replied, nodding. "I don't fully understand how the process works yet, but I'll make sure you're on the shortlist."

As the Guardian of the Tree, my word held weight. I had the power to grant access, to determine who could reap its blessings. And truth be told, Tanya had been good to me without really caring about what I had done. I could rely on them in the future if I had a future. Tanya's lips curled slightly in appreciation, but just as quickly, her expression shifted back to neutrality.

"I promised not to tell you, but my daughter was the one who insisted on hosting you in Vanadias," she said.

"I see…"

Her tone hardened. "My daughter is my most precious treasure. Do you understand?"

I met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes."

She stared at me for a moment before continuing, her voice tinged with something deeper—something protective. "I'm not blind. I can see how my daughter has started to look at you. And I know everything you've done for her. She told me herself." A pause. Then, quieter, almost reluctant, "For that, I will always be grateful."

"If you're worried about me stealing your daughter away," I said immediately, "you don't have to be. I may have acted a little too familiar… maybe even spoiled her more than I should have. I suppose the war affected me more than I initially thought." I sighed slowly. "But I have no intentions of pursuing anything with Alvara."

Not when I might not even be alive in a month.

Tanya's expression didn't shift in the way I expected. If anything, she looked… conflicted.

"I didn't bring this up to tell you to cut ties with my daughter," she said.

I glanced up at her, frowning slightly. "Huh?"

She hesitated for a brief moment before sighing. "Once, I never would have even considered engaging her to a human. But you…" She shook her head. "You have proven yourself to be better than most elves I've known. And you saved both my daughters. I do trust you, but…"

"But…?"

"I don't think you're ready," Tanya said bluntly. "Not yet. You're still lacking something. Perhaps several things."

"To be worthy of your daughter?" I smiled a bit.

"Yes," Tanya said without hesitation. "My daughter was gifted with every talent imaginable. She excels in all things, and she was raised to make swift, decisive choices without hesitation. Can you match her?" Her golden eyes bore into mine. "I see it clearly—you still hesitate. You are indecisive. And someone like that is not capable of standing by my daughter's side."

"I can't argue with that."

Alvara wasn't the type to be controlled. That much was obvious. If extreme situations arose, I doubted I could ever truly make her listen to me. She followed her own will.

Tanya's expression didn't change. "I'm not condemning you for it. I am simply stating my expectations for the man I would entrust my daughter to."

She paused for a moment, watching me carefully.

"I've also heard that you have multiple wives," she continued. "That alone gives me even more reason to refuse you. But…" she sighed, "Freydis has reached a point where I doubt she could ever trust or care for another man. Except for you."

I glanced away. "Well… who knows."

If she was right, then that was a problem.

Because it meant that if I died—or if I failed to become the person Tanya expected me to be—Alvara would be left alone.

Tanya, however, shook her head with certainty. "No. I am sure of it."

"Then what do you expect from me?"

Her gaze sharpened. "I will never force my daughter into an engagement. But if the day comes when she tells me she wants to marry you, I will not approve—unless you prove yourself worthy. And I don't mean just as a husband."

"..."

"Love is not enough in this world," she said. "A loving husband is important, yes, but it is not everything. Do you understand?"

And I did.

Her husband, Rhys Teraquin, had been a good man—a kind, loving husband. But in the end, he had died, leaving his family to fend for themselves.

As much as Tanya had loved him, she didn't want Alvara to end up with someone like Rhys.

She wanted someone stronger. Someone who wouldn't leave her daughter to face the world alone and who would do something more I suppose.

I met Tanya's gaze.

If I truly made it out of this alive…

"I'll think about it."