I Am The Game's Villain

”Professor...” He breathed, seeing Priscilla Tepes.

”I knew something was wrong,” she said, gaze locked on her niece as Selene struggled to rise again. ”But not this wrong.”

She turned to Victor gently. ”I know you don’t want to hurt her—neither do I. But think, Victor. When she regains her senses... do you want her to wake up and realize she almost killed you?”

Victor’s breath caught.

Right... she would hate herself for it.

Priscilla took a slow breath, her expression softening. ”I know a way to bring her back to her senses,” she said.

Victor blinked. ”Y–You do?”

She nodded. ”It’s similar to how I used to calm Elizabeth... when she’d lose control of her emotions and her power would spiral out of hand.”

At the mention of Elizabeth, a shadow crossed Priscilla’s face. Her voice faltered for a heartbeat before she steadied herself.

”I can use a Blood Art to bring Selene back,” she continued. ”It’ll hurt her a little, but it’ll clear the Witch’s influence if I can reach her mind. But to do that... you’ll need to weaken her first, Victor. Hold her down. Make her stop moving long enough for me to perform the seal. Understand?”

Victor looked back at Selene, her body trembling with rage and sorrow as she staggered to her feet again. He clenched his teeth but nodded.

”Yeah,” he said quietly. ”I understand. Just... bring her back. Please.”

...

...

Meanwhile, across the field, near the roots of the Holy Tree Celeste didn’t even have time to feel relief at seeing Priscilla’s arrival.

A heavy impact shook the ground before her —

-BAM!

Evan crashed down, his body rolling across the cracked stone, trails of blood streaking behind him. His breathing was ragged, every inch of him covered in cuts and bruises.

”Brother!” Celeste screamed, extending her hand instinctively toward Cyril.

Ice spears burst into existence, dozens of them, and shot forward at terrifying speed.

Cyril blinked, surprised by her sudden attack but dodged with fluid precision, his sword cutting through the remaining projectiles. Shards of ice exploded into mist around him.

He chuckled, eyes gleaming crimson. ”You look so desperate, Celeste. It’s almost... cute.”

Her expression twisted in rage.

Cyril’s gaze drifted to Evan, still struggling to rise, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the sacred ground. ”Look,” he said with a cold smile, ”I’ll send your brother to join your father. At least they won’t be alone.”

Evan forced himself to his knees, trembling, his breath shallow. His sword arm shook, but he lifted it anyway. The sheer malice radiating from Cyril made him only more furious and worse, he could see that the man was still growing stronger.

Every second, the Blood Moon’s Spell flowed into him, healing his wounds, thickening his aura. His regeneration had already gone far beyond what any vampire should be capable of.

Then Evan noticed it—the faint streams of blood drifting upward from all across the city, vanishing into the red dome that hung over them like a ceiling. It wasn’t just light. It was feeding something.

Cyril, Selene, Elizabeth—they were all connected to it.

The Blood Moon Spell wasn’t just a curse. It was a siphon.

”Any last words, Evan?” Cyril asked, raising his sword.

”Stop this!” Celeste shouted once more.

Cyril didn’t even glance at her. He smirked. ”Look at her, Evan. Crying for you. Begging. Pathetic.”

He lifted his blade higher.

”I said stop.”

That single word froze him.

Cyril’s body locked up mid-swing. His gaze snapped toward Celeste and what he saw made his blood run cold.

Her entire body was glowing white, a divine radiance piercing even the crimson haze. Her eyes burned pure white, tears streaking down her cheeks but as they fell, they turned into drops of ice, scattering across the ground like diamonds.

The temperature plummeted. The very air trembled as ice slowly spread on the ground.

Cyril took an involuntary step back. He had many things but never had he felt pressure like this.

Then something else cut through the tension.

He sensed movement behind him.

Cyril swung his sword instinctively.

-BOOOOM!

The blow he met sent him flying back through the air, skidding across the ground before he caught himself.

When he looked up, his smirk vanished.

”That is enough, Cyril.”

Celeste blinked the white glow fading from her eyes. The divine frost melted into tears again as she turned toward the voice.

”G–Grandma...” She whispered, her lips trembling.

Standing before her was Melfina and beside here with a stern expression was James Raven.