I Am The Game's Villain

"Christina-"

Ugh...

She's already left with Professor Priscilla.

I'll have to talk to her and my mother after today's classes.

I don't want to end up regretting it like I did after wasting all those years with Elona and my lousy father, just by being passive and useless.

Gathering my belongings and stuffing them into my bag, I slung it over my shoulder, getting ready to leave.

"Hey, you punk!"

I tilted my head slightly without turning around, easily dodging the incoming fist. Without bothering to face my aggressor, I continued walking out of the room, making sure to pass by Victor and Celeste.

"Wait! You bastard!"

Victor, Celeste, and a couple of others turned to see an enraged-looking werewolf storming toward me.

"What's going on?" Victor interjected, positioning himself between us.

"Step aside, Victor! That jerk! I tripped because of him in class!" He shouted, his anger directed at me.

"You were in the same class, right?" Celeste sighed, sounding rather exasperated. "He can't even manage the surrounding mana properly. It was just an unfortunate accident."

I'd say it was rather fortunate.

After all, I got a firsthand view of his embarrassing tumble and subsequent yelp.

"I-I don't care about that! He's going to pay for this! That lower creature!" He tried to advance on me, but Celeste extended her arm, blocking his way.

"Don't you have any shame? He can't even defend himself. His mana has been restrained," Celeste reprimanded him, her gaze critical.

"Yeah! It's because he's a criminal, Celeste."

Jiren, the elf, appeared on the scene, clearly taking the side of the werewolf.

"Why would you defend a criminal?" Jiren asked, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"What your family is involved in pales in comparison to mere murder, you imbecile."

"...!"

A chill ran down his spine at the cold voice that suddenly pierced the air. It was Selene, who was visibly annoyed.

Jiren stuttered, lost for words.

"You should go back to Allen," Selene said, her tone firm. Then she turned to Victor. "Let's go."

"Y-Yeah..." Victor followed, and they, along with Cylien and Celeste, walked past me.

"..."

Seeing the conflicted expression on Jiren's face, I couldn't help but let a smile slip onto my lips. "My apologies."

"…!"

Without bothering to acknowledge the reactions of the others, I pivoted on my heel, only to meet Selene's gaze. She was looking at me intently, so I wiped the smile off my face and quickened my steps, moving past them.

"Thanks a lot for stepping in, guys," I said with gratitude.

"Don't worry about it," Victor chimed in with a grin.

"Yeah, but hold on a second..." Celeste narrowed her eyes. "Weren't you the one who didn't wait for us in the elevator?"

She noticed me?

"No, it was the werewolf. He closed the elevator before bothering me again," I responded.

"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. That guy seriously needs some help..." Celeste grumbled.

"..." I noticed Cylien looking at me with a faint wince, and I couldn't quite figure out why.

"Then if you'll excuse me," I smiled and stepped into the elevator.

[<You're quite the smooth talker.>]

'An honest liar, that's what I am.'

[<What's that supposed to mean...>]

As I pressed the button to close the elevator doors faster, I unfortunately heard Celeste and the others approaching. I considered making a quick exit, but I knew it wouldn't work twice.

"Thanks for holding the elevator, Amael," Victor said as they stepped in.

"Of course, we're classmates," I replied with a nod.

"You seem like a decent guy. Did you really kill someone?" Celeste asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"It's complicated, but yes, I did kill someone. I won't try to justify it, though. Murder is murder."

And it certainly won't be the last time.

"At least you're being honest about it," Celeste said with a wry smile.

By the way, could you stop staring at me with that judgmental expression?

Even though I felt Cylien's gaze on me, I kept my gaze straight ahead, pretending not to notice.

"Why are you looking at him so intently, Cylien?"

"Huh?" Cylien seemed to snap out of her thoughts at Selene's words.

"Could it be that Cylien has a crush on Amael?" Celeste teased, nudging Cylien with an amused grin.

"No, it's not like that," Cylien quickly shook her head with an awkward smile.

"I'm sure Amael would be thrilled, though, right?" Celeste glanced at me playfully.

Don't drag me into this conversation!

"Ahaha. Of course, I'd be thrilled if the Elven Princess took a liking to me," I replied with a forced chuckle.

"See!" Celeste turned to Cylien, who just maintained her usual serene smile.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I quickly made my escape, eager to get away from the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Look, Cylien! He's blushing because of you."

Who's blushing?!

I cringed at Celeste's teasing remark and tried to ignore it.

Today's meal was shepherd's pie. I glanced at my plate with a smile and sat down at the same table I had occupied yesterday. John was already there, eating with an irritated expression on his face.

"Could you try to smile a little? You're scaring everyone around," I suggested.

John snorted at my words. "It's all good if those idiots keep their distance."

Seems like his experiences in the class with racist attitudes are really taking a toll on him.

"Have you managed to gather any clues about the Prophetess?" I asked John, but he shook his head.

"I talked a bit with Roda Moonfang, but I didn't get any indication that she's the Prophetess. How about you?" He turned the question back to me.

"Well, I had some conversations with Cylien and a brief one with Celeste, but it's hard to deduce anything just from talking," I sighed.

"Perhaps we'll get a lead during the inter-year battle course," John suggested, and I nodded in agreement.

For now, that seemed like our best option.

"By the way, we have a class with all the other classes this afternoon," I mentioned.

"Was it the craftsmanship class?" John asked.

"Yeah," I confirmed, beginning to eat from my plate. As I looked around, I noticed the curious gazes directed our way.

"We're definitely getting a lot of attention," John commented, echoing my thoughts.

"And who could be the reason for that, I wonder," I said with a sarcastic snort.

"If you knew how much I'm holding back already, you wouldn't say that," John retorted, clearly annoyed.

The hall suddenly erupted into noise as everyone's attention shifted to a specific area. Footsteps echoed as a group of people approached. I could sense John's irritation as his gaze landed on them—his classmates, apparently.

I turned my attention to see what had caught everyone's interest, and then I understood. At the forefront of the group was an astonishingly beautiful girl. Her long mint-green hair cascaded down her back, adorned with a golden circlet. Even her elven ears were decorated with intricate gold ear cuffs. Her eyes gleamed with an otherworldly neon yellow-green hue, their intense color contrasting with the cold smile on her lips. She wore the long white skirt of our uniform, accompanied by white gloves that covered her hands and extended to her elbows. Unlike the rest of us, she wasn't wearing her blazer, only a white blouse that seemed to have been customized to meet her very high standards. She carried a golden umbrella, holding it gracefully with one hand.

Her appearance was so stunning that it left everyone—men and women alike—breathless. The ethereal quality she exuded was undeniable.

But I found myself regarding her coldly, devoid of any awe.

Alvara Freydis Teraquin.

She was the Teraquin Princess of the esteemed Teraquin House, one the three Celestial Elven Princesses of the world, almost akin to a deity within her own House. However, she was no Layla contrary to the similar appeal she exuded, and I held no positive sentiments toward her.

Alvara Teraquin, known as a [Major Antagonist] in the [Second Game], possessed a cruel and supremacist disposition. She exhibited traits of megalomania and suffered from a severe case of OCD, refusing any contact with her own skin. Her disdain for every other race, apart from the High-Elves, in other words, Royal Elves, was palpable, driven by deep-seated hatred.

She was a fitting embodiment of her cursed House's legacy.

Alvara's presence clearly created a radius of caution around her, as no one dared to venture too close. The closest individual to her was a silver-haired elf who stood about a meter away—a fellow [Antagonist] known as Lykhor Elaryon, who happened to be Cylien's cousin.

Behind her trailed her entourage: her devoted lackeys and her attendant, a blue-haired elf dressed in a butler's uniform. Even farther back, a few of their classmates followed—a group I would consider more like slaves than peers. There were around five or six of them, primarily Halves or High Humans. Their expressions ranged from fear to despair as they walked in Alvara's wake.

In the [Second Game], Alvara was known to derive pleasure from the slaughter of Halves and High Humans, casually using their bodies as offerings to the mana beasts and even burning them alive as entertainment. Possessing supreme authority within her House, alongside her elder brother, she held control over the entire Teraquin army. Her actions in the Game had established her reputation as a tyrant with little regard for the lives of others.

Alvara's reputation was further solidified by her ranking as the second-most hated character in a popular poll, showcasing the extent of her negative impact.

[<This girl and the man with red hair you met at the entrance day are truly dangerous, Amael. Be careful with them. I can feel they have both heavily inherited divine genes, on top of their own Bloodline>]

'What does that mean?'

[<They will likely reach Godhood in a few years if not less.>]