I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 717: [Blood Moon War] [58] The Fall of The Witch

”It’s over!”

”We won!”

”Yeah!”

Cheers burst across the battlefield like waves breaking against stone. The cries of victory spread, trembling with disbelief and relief.

After Rucain’s death was confirmed, a faint light of hope began to flicker once more within the Resistance ranks. Even when those grotesque crimson giants—monsters born of blood and madness—had appeared under the Vampire Witch’s control, they hadn’t given up. They fought on, teeth gritted, blades slick with blood and rain.

And finally... one by one, those abominations began to vanish.

Their gaping maws—set grotesquely in their stomachs—opened in voiceless screams. Countless eyes scattered across their bodies rolled back as they let out a haunting cry, their forms collapsing into pools of thick, steaming blood.

”It’s... over?” Gruna muttered, clutching her bleeding right arm, her face pale.

”I don’t know...” Cedric murmured, scanning the ruined battlefield. ”But that’s gotta be a good sign.”

Ernest frowned, wiping the grime and blood from his face. ”Where’s the Witch?”

”And Edward?” Viessa’s voice trembled with worry, eyes darting across the carnage.

”I saw him,” Ernest said, pointing toward the swirling crimson sphere hovering in the air. ”He went in there. That’s where she is.”

”...” Cleara stood silently beside them, her gaze locked on the pulsating sphere, her expression unreadable.

”The Witch’s presence hasn’t vanished!” Cedric shouted suddenly. ”Stay alert—don’t let your guard down!”

The soldiers straightened immediately, their hands tightening around their weapons.

A short distance away, Daleliah and Sandor were still standing—barely. Their bodies were bleeding, trembling, but contrary to the knights who seemed to have lost hope after Rucain’s death and the Witch’s disappearance, they were still ready to fight. Even as dread crept into their hearts, they could feel it: something was changing. Something was happening to the Witch.

Daleliah’s grip on her sword tightened.

Even if the Witch fell... even if everything crumbled... she would not yield.

Then, the sphere shuddered.

A sharp ripple split the silence.

And with a thunderous crack, the crimson vortex exploded outward, scattering blood-like mist across the field.

When the haze cleared, a single figure stood within the fading light.

”Edward!” Viessa cried out, her heart leaping.

All eyes turned toward him.

He stood motionless, his face shadowed—but in his arms, he held someone gently.

The Witch.

Daleliah froze mid-step as she muttered. ”Mother...”

Edward descended slowly, the wind carrying the faint whisper of his boots touching the ground. His hold on Elizabeth was careful.

A tense silence blanketed the field.

Then the murmurs began.

”It’s the Witch!”

”He beat her!”

”Kill her! Now’s our chance!”

”Yeah! Let’s end her here!”

The cries rose like a wave of hatred.

For ten long years, Sancta Vedelia had suffered beneath her shadow. Entire villages were erased, families torn apart, the land drenched in red beneath her Blood Moon spell. The soldiers’ grief had fermented into rage—and now, vengeance was within reach.

But the moment they stepped forward, Edward lifted his head.

His amber eyes glowed faintly under the dying light coldly. The soldiers froze mid-step.

Without a word, he drew Trinity Nihil. Darkness rippled across its edge—then shattered, revealing a radiant white blade, pure and gleaming.

He leveled it toward them. His gaze swept across every soldier, piercing.

”I dare,” he said quietly, ”any of you to touch her.”

”...!”

Every knight felt a chill crawl down their spine. The hatred burning in their hearts faltered, replaced by something colder—something that told them this man, this single man, was not someone to defy.

They all gulped audibly, the pressure he was exuding pressing on them. No one dared speak—until Ernest finally found his voice.

”What... are you saying?” He asked carefully, eyes flicking from Edward to the motionless woman in his arms. ”Is she still alive?”

Edward glanced down at Elizabeth’s pale face, her chest rising and falling faintly. His expression softened, just for a heartbeat.

”She is my woman,” he said.

The words dropped like stones into still water. For a moment, there was only silence—then a ripple of disbelief spread through the soldiers.

Gruna’s eyes widened. She took a shaky step forward, her voice sharp with anger.

”What did you just say?! She’s the Witch! The monster who slaughtered thousands! She has to die!”