I Am The Game's Villain

"It's over—"

-BOOOOM!

A blinding, whitish substance exploded from Nora, enveloping both of us in a disorienting haze.

"Edward! She's running away!" John's urgent voice spurred me into action, and I bolted out of the restroom after him, irritation bubbling up within me. "Are you fleeing, coward?" John's heated accusation echoed through the corridor as he sprinted ahead.

"We aren't finished…" I muttered through clenched teeth, my determination unwavering even in the chaos. "So close…hm?"

My gaze caught the sight of a trio of Heroines who were observing me. Covered in a mixture of the strange white substance and Nora's blood, my appearance must have been quite a sight.

Under their scrutinizing stares, I felt compelled to speak, to clear the air. "W-Wait, there is a misunderstanding…"

"Tch, she disappeared…we couldn't finish," John's frustrated voice broke in as he joined me, his annoyance palpable.

"Finish what….?" Celeste's questioning gaze fixed upon us, her eyes glaring at us with suspicion.

"Huh? Killing her," John responded, his words heavy with the weight of our recent battle.

Oh?

No misunderstanding from their end, it seems. Had they caught a glimpse of Nora's true form as she fled?

Amelia's expression remained inscrutable, her silence speaking volumes.

"E-Even if…she was a bad person…" Celeste's cheeks flushed with an embarrassed intensity, her gaze narrowing at us. "These strange sounds…you shouldn't have—"

"Alright, that's enough," I raised my hand to cut her off. "Nothing happened. Forget it. Let's go." I briskly turned away from them, ready to leave this encounter behind, but—

"We need explanations, please," Cylien's polite yet determined tone halted our retreat.

"No," I replied curtly, only for John to unexpectedly hurl his sword at Cylien's direction.

Caught off guard, Cylien managed to parry the attack with her own weapon, but before she could fully recover, I took advantage of the confusion and disappeared from her field of vision.

"W-What—" Cylien's voice held a mixture of surprise and bewilderment as she suddenly found herself lifted and propelled forward.

"Light."

Very light indeed.

My voice was a whisper, almost carried away by the wind, but it was enough. I watched as Cylien, her figure light as a feather, sailed through the air, headed straight for Amelia who was hastening towards us.

"Hya!" The collision between Cylien and Amelia was unavoidable, and both of them tumbled to the ground in a heap.

"Y-You!" Celeste charged forward, her fist clenched and aimed at me.

Reacting quickly, I extended my palm, intercepting her attack. Our energies clashed for a moment, and then I slid back, creating some distance between us. A momentary groan escaped me as I struggled with the unexpected weight of her strike. "Heavy."

"...!" Celeste's cheeks reddened intensely, her gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. As if on cue, an icy sensation began to creep across my hand, slowly restoring its sensation.

"Oy!" John urgently shouted at me as guards began rushing to our location.

Celeste, noticing the state of my arm, panicked and took a step back.

Capitalizing on the moment, I pivoted on my heels and darted into the waiting elevator.

"Damn it!" John hammered the button desperately as the elevator doors closed. After a brief silence, his frustration boiled over. "We almost had her!"

I managed a tired smile in response. "She won't be using her powers for a while."

John scoffed, still agitated. "You got that right. You took off her arm, and I scorched her inside out."

We remained silent, a sense of accomplishment mingling with the tension in the air even though I wanted to kill her. Well, it's better than nothing.

Finally, the elevator doors slid open.

"Ready?" I asked as the blare of sirens reverberated throughout the building.

"Yeah," John confirmed, his hand igniting with a deep red fire. "We've never tried this before. Are you sure?"

I reached out my hand, a purplish spark of fire melding with John's fiery sphere. "There's always a first time."

"Damn it!" John cursed as the reddish-purple flame sphere began to morph chaotically, searing his right arm.

"Throw it!"

As soon as the doors opened, John hurled the fused sphere to the ground.

-BOOM!

An ear splitting explosion resounded, ripping through the ground and leaving a deep crater in its wake.

***

"W-What?"

Francis was immersed in reading the newspaper, his demeanor tranquil and composed. Yet, his placidity was soon disrupted by a growing turmoil within the illustrious clothing store. Initially, he regarded the disturbance with mild indifference, chalking it up to the usual humdrum of a busy place. However, the situation swiftly escalated, sirens wailing in urgency, casting an ominous crimson glow over the building.

In an instant, a deafening explosion reverberated through the space, unleashing a shockwave that rippled across the entire ground floor.

Then…

"S-Start the car!"

Francis's heart leapt in relief as he glimpsed Amael's hurried return, even though his demeanor was wrought with panic. Yet, this respite was fleeting, the relief abruptly transformed into a stark realization.

"M-Milord?!" Horror etched across Francis's features, his gaze locking onto Amael's immobilized left arm and the sight of John's right arm marred by searing burns.

"Francis!"

"Y-Yes!" The urgency in Amael's command spurred Francis into swift action. He initiated the car's engine, his gaze shifting momentarily to the embodiment of chaos seated in the back, two young men whose appearance belied the turmoil they had unleashed.

As the car roared to life, Francis's gaze lingered on a particularly prestigious site within the Dolphis Kingdom – the renowned store, now enveloped in tendrils of smoke and echoing with the clamor of knights pouring in by the scores.

'Lady Alea will surely have my head…'

A shiver of trepidation coursed through Francis. He could not help but connect the dots, associating this tumult with the two seemingly unassuming high schoolers who occupied the back seats. The sheer incredulity of how two teenagers had managed to incite such mayhem left him astounded and bewildered. The reasons behind this uproar remained shrouded in mystery, leaving Francis to ponder just what could drive such destructive actions.

***

Standing in the living room, John positioned himself behind me. The room seemed to hold its breath as the tension escalated. Mother sat on the sofa, her demeanor a mixture of sternness and neutrality that sent a shiver down my spine. The maids and butlers formed a silent gallery along the walls, eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.

Francis had wasted no time in providing his perspective, hastily retreating from the situation and leaving me to face the formidable presence of my mother. My explanation, though veiled in my past experiences, remained truthful. We had encountered a dangerous figure closely connected to Amelia and had felt compelled to neutralize the threat.

While I had shared certain aspects of my Earthly past, the intricacies of the Game remained locked within me, a secret I was unwilling to unveil until I could more fully understand this world.

"I'm home—" Christina's voice chimed from behind, followed by an abrupt silence. Her steps faltered as she took in the disheveled state of John and me, both marked with signs of a recent skirmish. I had relied on Anathemas fire to melt away the ice that Celeste had conjured around my arm, leaving behind faint red marks.

"B-Blaire! Bring the vials and bandages!" Christina's command filled the room, her focus intent on attending to our injuries.

"John is in worse shape—" I began, but my sister cut me off with a single, stern word.

"Enough."

I fell into silence, watching as Christina moved to care for my wounds with a deft touch. A soft sound of discomfort escaped me as she cleaned the wound with a damp cloth. Her face was obscured from my view, but I caught the glint of tears as they landed on my arm. Despite the apparent facade of control, I sensed the emotional turbulence beneath her actions.

"We encountered someone dangerous, someone associated with Amelia, Celeste, and Cylien," I offered, feeling the weight of explanation in the air. It sounded like an excuse even to my own ears.

With an enigmatic gaze, my mother rose from her seat and exited the room in silence.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I felt guilt settle deeper within me. This was the first time I had truly considered the emotional impact my actions could have on those who cared for me. In the Kingdom of Celesta, the concept of parental concern was a foreign one. Elona's watchful eyes were distant, separated by a realm that was both physical and emotional. Any scrapes or stumbles went unnoticed, merely part of the solitary life I had led.

Now, for the first time, I was confronted with the weight of responsibility and the emotional toll my actions exacted on those who loved me.

Christina turned her attention to John without sparing me another glance, indicating her concern for his well-being.

"Christin-"

"Milord, I've prepared your bath," Albert's voice cut through the atmosphere, offering an escape from the intensity of the room.

Weariness settled in, both physically and emotionally, as I offered a curt nod in acknowledgment before retreating to my room.

***

The atmosphere remained awkward as Christina tended to John's injuries, her skilled hands moving with gentle precision. In the midst of the hushed room, her voice broke through the silence like a soothing balm.

"...Was Amael like that in your own Kingdom?" Her question hung in the air, a thread of curiosity woven with an underlying layer of concern.

John met her gaze, his mind sifting through memories of his time in Celesta. He pondered how best to articulate his response. "He was worse, truth be told. If it weren't for sheer luck and the protection of the Goddesses, he would have met his end on multiple occasions."

A quiet weight lingered after his words, as Christina's attention shifted to John's wounded arm. After she completed the bandaging, she stood, brushing off her skirt in a characteristic manner. There was a contemplative sadness in her eyes as she spoke again.

"Thank you for being there for him," Christina's words carried a note of both gratitude and self-reflection as her amber eyes glistened with tears. "I should have followed him to Celesta back then. I've been a terrible sister…"

John felt a mixture of surprise and empathy at her admission. He knew firsthand the pain of sibling separation, and he understood how the years could be tainted with regret. "It's never too late to mend old wounds. More importantly, Edward clearly feels better here than in Celesta."

A transformation occurred in Christina's expression, her initial shock giving way to a heartfelt smile. "Thank you for saying that."

Averting his eyes, John began to move toward the exit. "I'll be on my way then."

Albert's voice interjected kindly, "Sir, Lady Alea has requested that you stay here for the night."

The words were met with John's resistance. "No, I—"

Christina's interruption was firm, laced with a touch of hidden anger. "You're not leaving until we hear the full explanation."

John groaned audibly, recognizing that there was little chance of escape from her determination. "Fine…"