I Am The Game's Villain

She pushed the blade forward slightly, the steel piercing Anasthara’s skin. A thin line of dark blood spilled over the fabric of her cloak.

”Don’t touch him,” Elizabeth said coldly.

Anasthara’s fingers froze mid-motion.

Then she slowly lowered her hand, letting it fall to her side without complaint.

Only then did she glance over her shoulder, her gaze brushing Elizabeth with faint acknowledgment.

”You carry Merithra’s blood,” she murmured thoughtfully. ”And he... he holds a Fragment of Nemesis inside him.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening.

”You know nothing of me,” she replied.

Anasthara gave a faint smile though it held no warmth. ”Perhaps.”

Then she turned back to Amael. ”Come with me, will you.”

It sounded strangely like a request.

But Amael had heard enough.

His grip on Trinity Nihil tightened, and without a word, he drove the blade forward—fast and true.

The divine weapon pierced her chest, sliding through bone and flesh until the hilt touched her ribs. The impact should have staggered her. It should have stolen her breath.

But Anasthara barely reacted.

No cry of pain. No shock.

She simply looked down at the blade protruding from her body.

”Trinity Nihil and...” Anasthara’s gaze shifted, her eyes settled briefly on the girl standing silently behind frozen, Celeste. ”The Daughter of Nihil.”

Amael clenched the hilt of his sword, his hands trembling as he pushed the blade deeper into Anasthara’s abdomen. A thin, dark line of blood escaped the corner of her lips, trailing down her chin.

She looked down at the wound, then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

”I am deeply sorry. Dear Sister.”

-Spurt!

”...!” Amael’s eyes widened.

Blood suddenly burst from his chest in a violent spray, as if an invisible blade had carved through his very soul.

”W–What... ugh...” He choked, crumbling to his knees, disbelief written across his face as his sword slipped from his hands.

”AMAEL!” Celeste’s voice cracked into a scream, rushing to his side, hands frantically trying to stop the blood—so much blood.

Driven purely by instinct, Elizabeth lunged forward, her rapier plunging deep into Anasthara’s torso. But the moment the blade sank in, she regretted it and jumped away.

But it was too late.

-Spurt!

Agonizing pain tore through her chest as if mirrored by the very attack she’d made. Elizabeth gasped, staggering back, clutching at the sudden wound blooming beneath her ribs. She dropped to one knee, gritting her teeth. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt—raw, searing, unbearable.

Her crimson eyes glowed darker as she glared at Anasthara.

Crimson veins spiderwebbed across her pale skin. A wave of bloodlust erupted from her like a tempest, its pressure so immense that even Nikolas, who stood yards away, instinctively took a step back, momentarily taken aback.

But Anasthara didn’t move.

Instead, she raised her arm slowly toward Amael’s bleeding form where Celeste was desperately trying to mend him with shaking hands and broken sobs.

Elizabeth, despite the pain, reacted instantly—darting in front of Amael.

-SPURT!

”Ughn!” She cried as two gleaming white blades manifested mid-air and drove mercilessly into her chest. The force knocked the air from her lungs. Blood splattered across the floor beneath her as she staggered, barely staying upright.

”E–Elizabeth!!” Celeste screamed, panic cracking her voice as her eyes burned with white light. Her expression twisted in horror as she saw a Prophecy.

She reached toward Elizabeth, but—

-SPURT!

A third blade struck Elizabeth square in the center of her chest, sending her crashing to her knees. Her rapier clattered uselessly to the ground.

”NO!!”

Celeste shrieked tearfully.

From the shadows nearby, Jefer landed, just a few paces away—but froze instantly. His entire body stiffened when Anasthara’s bloodstained gaze locked on him with mechanical precision.

Her eyes slid back to Elizabeth and Amael—both bleeding, both dying—then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

Celeste stared after her, breathless.

”A–Amael!!” She screamed, her knees collapsing beside him. Her hands trembled violently as she tried to stop the bleeding, as she poured every ounce of Fate into his failing body—but it wasn’t working.

”No... no, no, no, please—Elizabeth—!”

Her gaze snapped to Elizabeth, who had barely moved. Her breathing was ragged, shallow. Her dress was soaked with blood, and her lips quivered faintly as her glassy eyes followed Anasthara’s retreating form who had already lost interest in all of them.