I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 735: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [17] The Day Before The End

”John!”

Amelia’s voice rang out, snapping John out of his thoughts. He blinked, glancing around the bustling streets of the capital of Ravenia.

They had just finished lunch, and the group was supposed to spend the rest of the afternoon sightseeing. The teachers had given them a few rules—don’t wander too far, stay within the group’s perimeter, don’t cause trouble—but everyone knew it was just formal talk. It was the last trip of the academic year, after all. No one, not even the strict professors, had the heart to enforce discipline when they were standing in the heart of the capital during the Blood Moon Festival.

”What?” John muttered, not bothering to turn around. His gaze swept across the streets—vendors calling out their wares, children laughing, red festival banners fluttering in the warm breeze. It should have been peaceful. But something felt... off.

There were too many knights.

Everywhere he looked, armored figures patrolled the roads, keeping a close watch on the crowd. Sure, it was festival week, but even then, the presence of so many guards wasn’t normal. Their movements were sharp, their faces too serious, as if expecting trouble at any moment.

’Is it just my imagination?’

He frowned. No, it wasn’t. Not at this stage of things—not with what he knew. Coincidences didn’t exist anymore on this last day.

Amelia stepped up beside him, following his line of sight. ”What are you looking at? Don’t tell me you’re searching for Amael like Celes?” She whispered.

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to—because a few meters ahead, Celeste was walking in silence, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her usual bright hopeful energy was gone, replaced by a faint, lost look.

Alicia had told her Amael would be here. But he wasn’t.

Or maybe... he was, and just didn’t care to show himself.

That thought stung her more than she wanted to admit. She could still remember the look in his eyes during the battle against Behemoth—that unguarded emotion that couldn’t have been faked. So why now? Why the cold absence?

Maybe he’d found out about her engagement to Cyril. Maybe he thought she’d accepted it.

But she had fought it. She’d tried, argued, pleaded—and it was all useless. As the Prophetess, her destiny wasn’t hers to decide. And yet, a small, foolish part of her still hoped that if Amael had been there, she might have found the strength to defy everything.

Now, that hope just felt like a knife twisting inside her.

She sighed quietly, lowering her gaze. ”Why...” She whispered, her voice trembling, her pale blue and white eyes glimmering faintly with the moisture of unshed tears.

”Princess.”

Celeste’s head snapped up, her breath catching as she recognized the voice.

”A–August?” She gasped.

The old commander stood before her, flanked by members of the Zestella Royal Guard.

”Lord Zestella has summoned you,” August said, bowing slightly. ”We’re to escort you immediately to Central Vedelia. Preparations for the wedding must begin.”

”...!” Celeste froze, her body turning rigid.

”W–Wait! Isn’t the ceremony scheduled for tomorrow night?” Amelia blurted out, stepping forward in alarm. ”She’s still technically in class until tonight!”

August’s expression didn’t change.

”I’m afraid the wedding has been moved up. It will take place tomorrow morning.”

Celeste’s lips parted, but no sound came out. The world around her—the laughter, the banners, the music—all seemed to fade into a blur.

Tomorrow morning.

Less than a day. That was all the time left before her life would be bound forever to Cyril’s.

August stood before her, his expression twisted in quiet pain. To others, he was a veteran commander of the Zestella Royal Guard, a man of discipline and steel. But to Celeste, he was something far more personal—the man who had raised her, guided her since childhood, treated her like the granddaughter he never had. And now he was being forced to deliver her to a fate he despised.

He knew Cyril. Everyone did. The charming noble with the perfect smile and cruelty hidden beneath it. He was the type of man who saw people as pawns—tools to reach his goals He looked too much like Lazarus. He was so someone who didn’t deserve Celeste, whose kindness could melt the coldest heart.