I Am The Game's Villain



"What are you doing?"

"It's just ahead," John said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Shut up," I muttered.

"Are you seriously sulking over that?" he asked incredulously.

I let out a scoff and looked ahead, trying to dismiss the strange emotions swirling within me. There was still some noise around and even if I was somewhat near them because of that large hall, he was far enough to not be able to hear properly so I concentrated and approached further discreetly.

The voice that had seized my attention emanated from a man whose very presence exuded a potent blend of peril and dominance. His appearance was equally arresting, a figure that compelled immediate focus. With each stride he made, an aura of unwavering authority enveloped him, as though he regarded himself as the ultimate force in the world. His cascading crimson hair flowed regally, exposing a pale countenance that carried an air of menace, a visage that was revered as the quintessence of vampire danger.

Cyril Magnus Raven was his name, a Third Year and a [Pretender], Alicia's older brother and one of the most dangerous individuals here. I'm not lying or overestimating him. That guy was truly no joke.

He was currently facing off with his half-brother, Victor. Victor raised his hands in a somewhat awkward gesture, a forced smile on his face. "I mean, I was just talking with Celes, brother..."

"Brother?" Cyril spat out the word with evident disdain, his gaze condescendingly fixed on Victor. "The son of a whore can't possibly be my brother—"

Before he could finish his insult, Victor's anger overcame his restraint. He grabbed Cyril's shirt, a clear challenge in his eyes. But it took only a moment for Cyril to counteract, his grip on Victor's hand solid as he twisted it effortlessly. Victor's face contorted with the effort to resist, but Cyril was overwhelmingly stronger. With a deft move, he released Victor's hand and slapped it away.

"Enough, Cyril," Celeste's voice cut through the tension as she stepped forward, a frown on her face.

Seeing Celeste, Cyril's demeanor shifted. A dashing smile danced across his lips. "I'm here just to see you, Celes."

"Is this drama over?" Celeste asked with a forced smile as she spread her arms in a mocking gesture.

Cyril chuckled softly, his gaze traveling up and down Celeste's figure. "You've grown quite a bit since last year, Celes," he commented, his eyes lingering on certain areas of her body, starting with upper body then her legs until stopping right above her knees slightly hidden by her skirt, much to her visible disgust. "...And in a very appealing way."

Celeste's face twisted in distaste. "Repulsive," she muttered, quickly walking away.

"All this could have been avoided if she'd just lowered her skirt," I muttered under my breath, mentally noting to pester Christina about it later.

[<Amael…>]

'What?'

"You're quite the bastard, aren't you?" John responded.

I ignored him as my attention focused on Victor, who was still glaring daggers at Cyril. Cyril, meanwhile, was still smiling, seemingly unaffected by the tension.

"It was enjoyable," Cyril mumbled with a satisfied sigh, his gaze fixated on Celeste's retreating form. Then, with a final glance at his half-brother, he turned away. For a brief instant, his crimson eyes glowed, and vertical slits appeared in his irises, sending a shiver down my spine and reminding me of just how out of my league this guy was.

He was stronger than Louisa and Pyres, damn...

But despite the unease that prickled at me, I couldn't deny the rush of exhilaration that came with it all.

I knew it now.

This Game was an entirely different beast.

"Hm?" I arched an eyebrow upon noticing Elizabeth and Selene surreptitiously concealed behind a pillar. Elizabeth was cautiously peering out, while her arm seemed to be restraining Selene, presumably preventing her from stepping out. Perhaps they were waiting to come to Victor's aid, I speculated. They were in close proximity to Celeste but chose not to intervene...

"How on earth are we supposed to handle that freak?" John muttered next to me.

"...", I remained silent, my gaze fixated on Cyril as he effortlessly drew the attention of countless girls, predominantly vampires. To those girls, Cyril was akin to their Prince. Cain Redgrave was also present, but Cyril's charisma clearly eclipsed his.

"Do we even have to deal with him?" I closed my eyes briefly, contemplating the situation. "It's Victor's responsibility. Just like in the Game, he'll be able to handle it."

Much like the current scenario, in the Game Cyril would chase after Celeste, only to be thwarted by Victor time and time again. Recollections of the numerous instances where Victor endured brutal beatings at the hands of his older half-brother due to the glaring disparity in their strengths flitted across my mind. Yet, I firmly believed that Victor would eventually attain the strength he needed.

"We should focus on identifying the new Prophetess and ensuring that things unfold without major hiccups while avoiding unnecessary interference," I suggested.contemporary romance

"Easy for you to say that, considering you're in the less tumultuous class," John grumbled once again about his class assignment.

"Perhaps less tumultuous, but I'm stuck with Selene and the other heroines, an arguably volatile combination," I remarked dryly.

"And I'm dealing with Alvara, Lykhor, and Adrian!" John fired back, downing the rest of his wine.

"...", all I could offer was a moment of silence in response to his pitiable predicament.

"Anyway, you're paired with Celeste and Cylien, right? Try to gauge whether either of them might be the Prophetess," John suggested.

"In that case, you handle Roda and Elizabeth."

"Roda is in the First Year and Elizabeth isn't even in my class," John retorted with a scowl.

"Listen, that's no excuse. At the very least, assist me in this Game," I replied, annoyed, and I walked away from the hubbub in the center of the grand hall. The noise was overwhelming, and I longed for some solitary moments.

"Might as well take something to drink," I mumbled, pouring wine into an empty glass and settling into a chair.

With a sip of the wine, I let out a sigh.

This event thankfully marked just the Game's introduction. Essentially, it involved Victor encountering the Heroines and clashing with the Pretenders. Tomorrow would be a day off, followed by the commencement of classes the day after.

'If you don't rank at the top of your class, I'll give you a sound beating, and then you won't have a house to return to.'

My mother's stern words sent a shiver down my spine.

I winced as I recalled her warning. I had no choice but to study diligently.

Surprisingly, Christina secured a place in the top three last year. Her intelligence and strength were undoubtedly what fueled her popularity. My older brother likewise claimed the title of best male student. With this, an odd sense of determination surged within me to uphold our family's reputation.

Stirring my glass of wine, I managed a faint smile.

In a way, being with my family here feels reminiscent of life back on Earth. Mother's threats and admonishments about grades toward me and Chloe were eerily similar to what they were back home. And just as my Earthly father would nonchalantly brush things off with a chuckle, earning mother's ire in return, so too does my father here.

Still, last year I hardly put any effort into my studies. This year, though, I needed to apply myself—for my own sake, considering my unfamiliarity with Sancta Vedelia, but also for the sake of my mother.

"..."

As I watched the red wine swish in my glass, images of Elona's blood spilling from her throat and a pool of crimson beneath Ephera's lifeless form flashed before me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push these painful memories away.

"Hey."

I opened my eyes, ignoring the voice behind me, and continued swirling my glass.

"Are you deaf, Half?" A hand struck the table beside me, and an elf's face appeared next to mine.

Judging by his golden tie, he must be a First Year elf—likely one of Allen Teraquin's cronies.

Why is he bothering me?

Is he offended by what I said yesterday?

Has my comment tarnished his fragile pride to this extent?

I should have just kept my mouth shut around that brat.

"See this pendant?" I held up my necklace, with its emblem hanging from it. The two elves stuttered and glanced at someone behind me.

I didn't even need to turn around to know it was Allen. He probably reassured them by saying something like, 'Don't worry, my Great House will protect you.'

I was at a loss for what to do.

If I were to attack them, Allen Teraquin would inevitably step in, and if I were to go after him, his troublesome older siblings would likely join the fray.

"Hm?" My attention was drawn to someone, and a smile spread across my face.

"Answer—"

Before he could slam his hand on the table once again, I abruptly stood, pivoting to face the newcomer. A gust of wind seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and a figure appeared beside us. His golden-blond hair danced in the breeze, and his crimson eyes bore into me with an air of dissatisfaction, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?" he inquired, his gaze shifting downward.

The elf who had been confronting me lowered his gaze as well, his face draining of color as he found himself staring at the blade of a knife, its point having found its way into his abdomen. The knife would have gone in deeper had it not been for the pale hand that was now restraining my own. A single drop of blood fell, splattering onto the ground below.

"A-Ah!" he stammered, stumbling backward.

"Hey! Let's go! The professor is here!" The other elf, seemingly clueless about the recent events, hurriedly took his companion's arm and retreated as soon as he caught sight of Professor James Raven.

James Raven's gaze fixed on me, his expression demanding an explanation. However, all I could muster was a smile as I calmly returned the knife to the table. "I was wondering when you'd make your appearance to deal with them. Thank you, Professor," I acknowledged before turning away and making my exit from the banquet.

done.co