I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 733: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [15] Missing Students

Percy stood among the splintered timbers and smoking rubble on the outskirts of Ravenia, the ruins of a small street still steaming in the chill of pre-dawn. A violent shockwave had split the night here, followed by an explosion that rattled windows and set foxfire flickering across the toppled carts. Because this quarter lay a little way from the capital’s heart, most people would treat it like another drunken brawl gone wrong: a noise, a rumor, and then everything would be folded into the day’s other small disasters.

Percy however knew what had happened obviously.

A half-dozen Ravenian knights moved through the wreckage. They had been searching all night, combing through shattered masonry and overturned soil. Percy’s patience, however, had limits. Morning was coming; the city would wake; and still—no bodies.

”It’s...odd,” he told himself.

”That Blood Art was stronger than I expected,” Cyril said, appearing at his shoulder with a dry chuckle. He looked at the ruined street with a delighted expression. ”If you’re still hunting, they were probably reduced to smithereens by now. Nothing useful left to find.”

”No.” Percy’s reply was quiet, as he lowered his gaze until his jaw tightened. ”My uncle wouldn’t leave things to chance. He would have done everything to protect Roda.”

Cyril laughed—short, edged. ”That was the plan, wasn’t it? Use Roda as bait and blow him apart. Have you forgotten? Or are you—surprisingly—worried about your little sister?”

Percy said nothing. Killing Jefer was one kind of problem. Roda was another. She was his closest family member. He trusted Jefer enough to think Roda would definitely survive the blast.

”Don’t fuss,” Cyril continued. ”Even if they survive, they won’t get far. I’ve posted guards at every major road out of the city, and men are posted near the center. If anyone shows themselves, they’ll be picked up before they can warn the staff in center capital.” He flicked a boot against a charred beam as if it were a trivial inconvenience.

And truly, Cyril’s concern for the living—or the dead—had conditions. Even if Jefer lived, the Blood Art would have wounded him badly enough to blunt his usefulness. Cyril’s plans did not require Jefer to be whole. He just wanted that man who had been suspicious about it him all this time to not interfere at the worst time and it was done.

”You don’t care about family, do you?” Percy asked.

Cyril’s grin was a slit of amusement. ”After everything I’ve done to get here, you ask me that now?”

”I am not like you, Cyril. I fight for my House, not for myself.” Percy replied.

”I know.” Cyril chuckled. ”That’s precisely why I entrusted my dear sister’s future to you. Sancta Vedelia needs men like you—obedient. You’ll matter in the future, Percy—if you haven’t broken.” The crimson of Cyril’s eyes pinched into vertical slits; the look was meant to warn him. ”Tell me—have you lost your will? Are you going to disappoint me like Adrian did?”

”No.” Percy shook his head once. ”I’ve come too far to turn back now.”

”Good.” Cyril smiled. ”Then stop lingering. Get yourself to Central Vedelia. There’s work to finish.”

Percy hesitated. ”What will you do?”

Cyril started to walk away without looking back. ”Finish the preparations,” he said with a smirk.

***

The sixth day of the Blood Moon Festival began under a sky still tinted by the festival’s crimson hue. In the royal castle by now the dining hall once again was full—clattering cutlery, soft chatter, and the warm scent of fresh bread and tea. Everything looked perfectly ordinary, and yet John couldn’t shake the strange feeling that crept beneath the surface.

The air itself felt... wrong.

He glanced around. The Knights of Ravenia stood in their usual positions, silent and vigilant. Nothing seemed out of place, but that only made the unease stronger.

Why does it feel like something’s about to happen?

”Hey,” Victor called, dropping into the seat across from John and Amelia. ”Have you guys seen Selene?”

Amelia looked up mid-bite. ”Hm? No,” she said, glancing at John, who simply shook his head. ”Shouldn’t she be with you, though? You two are practically glued together,” she added teasingly.

”Yeah, well...” Victor scratched his neck awkwardly. ”She probably doesn’t feel well or something. But now that I think of it, I haven’t seen Roda either.”

The name made Rodolf, seated nearby, raise his head sharply. His wolfish ears twitched. ”She better come back soon, Victor,” he said.