I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 722: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [4] Victor’s Happiness

After leaving the academy grounds, Victor set off for the Olphean Kingdom, accompanied by Selene, Celeste, Amelia, and John. The journey itself would have taken several hours and longer to the Capital by normal means crossing borders, changing routes, and weaving through the vast forests separating Central Vedelia and other Kingdoms but this trip had been meticulously planned in advance.

Thanks to Alea, who had arranged everything personally, a teleportation circle awaited them near a secluded old manor on the outskirts of Central Vedelia. It glowed faintly with golden mana circles. The moment Victor stepped into the circle with his group, the world around them twisted, colors bending, sound fading and in the blink of an eye, they stood in the heart of the Olphean Capital.

Waiting for them was a line of armored Knights. They bowed deeply at the sight of Victor and his companions. After all, they were not just any travelers, these were nobles of high standing, and Victor himself was the nephew of Queen Alea.

Security in the capital had been tightened ever since the incident with Thelma. Even though Lazarus Raven still lived, Alea refused to take any more chances with her sister’s safety. Thelma remained within the palace walls, surrounded by the most loyal of guards.

A pair of royal carriages stood ready by the courtyard. Though they managed to all squeeze into one sleek black coach lined with velvet seats the ride through the capital was quiet, each of them taking in the regal scenery of Olphean Capital, admiring it.

When they finally reached the Royal Castle, the grand gates swung open to reveal a sprawling courtyard filled with blooming flowers. At the entrance, Helga, the head maid, awaited them. Her posture was perfect, her hands folded before her as she bowed slightly.

"Welcome home, Young Lord," she greeted warmly.

"Oh, right," Amelia said suddenly, glancing toward Victor with a small smile. "You’re technically part of the Olphean House too, aren’t you?"

Victor chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah... even I forget that sometimes."

As they entered the castle, the staff within immediately recognized him. Maids and attendants paused their duties to bow, whispering respectfully as he passed. To them, he wasn’t just a visitor, he was Thelma’s son, and therefore royalty in his own right.

"Oh, you came with friends, Victor..."

The voice came from ahead, gentle, familiar. They turned to see Christina approaching down the marble hallway.

"Senior Christina!" Amelia greeted brightly, waving.

Everyone from the academy knew Christina and Aerinwyn were practically legends among the students, admired by nearly every girl who aspired to nobility and grace.

Victor straightened slightly. "Ah, y–yes... Senior Christina."

Christina laughed softly. "You can just call me Christina, Victor. We’re cousins, after all."

He smiled, a bit embarrassed. "Right. Christina."

Christina turned to Helga. "Please prepare tea and snacks for our guests. They’re important."

Then her gaze lingered briefly on John and for a moment, the warmth in her expression faltered. There was a faint sadness in her eyes, one she couldn’t quite hide. She stupidly expected to see Amael right next to him.

Anyone who truly knew Christina could see the stiffness in her smile, the quiet strain behind her politeness. Amael’s disappearance had left a mark no one could ignore.

It wasn’t worry for his safety that haunted her; she knew, deep down, that he was alive. No, what troubled her was why he had left.

Elizabeth’s death had broken something in him... but Christina suspected there was more. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to return not to the palace, not toward them...

He had vanished not long after that final conversation in the hospital corridor after all, leaving behind nothing but silence.

Christina could still remember his words, the trembling tone, the anguish twisting his features. That look in his eyes, torn between pain and loneliness, had burned itself into her memory.

No matter what she or her mother had said, they couldn’t reach him. They couldn’t stop him from walking away. Neither of them managed to pull him into their arms, to tell him that he belonged and that, no matter what, he was still their family.

Now, with Amael gone, the quiet of the castle felt heavier. The soft light that filtered through the tall stained-glass windows only made his absence sharper. Christina could hide it behind polite smiles and graceful words, but the loneliness never really left her. It clung to her voice, her steps, her heart.

Maybe she hadn’t been fair to him. Maybe, deep down, even after everything, part of her still couldn’t see him as the same Amael she’d grown up with, the boy who used to tug at her sleeve, the one who called her big sister. It wasn’t something she could control; not after learning he carried the memories of another man.

But none of that changed the truth. Christina cared for him. She always had.

He had been there for her when she needed him most, when her mother was taken from them, when despair threatened to swallow her whole. It was Amael who comforted her, who never let her give up, who risked everything to bring Alea back.

How could she ever hate him for that?

No matter what twisted illusions her father had shown her, no matter what pasts or memories he tried to reveal the Amael she knew would never hurt them. Not her. Not their mother. She believed that with every part of her heart.

And yet... she hadn’t managed to tell him. Not properly. Not in the way that mattered. She hadn’t been able to reach across that wall of guilt and fear to show him that he still mattered that he was loved. The regret gnawed quietly inside her, leaving a hollow ache where her words should have been.

It was only after Thelma’s recovery that Christina began to smile again, a fragile, fleeting happiness that couldn’t fill however the hole left because of the guilt and sadness eating inside her.

She turned to Victor, forcing herself to refocus. "Come," she said softly, "your mother is waiting in her room."

Victor’s face lit up instantly, a genuine warmth breaking across his features. "Right!" He said, his tone bright and full of life.

Amelia laughed, nudging Celeste playfully. "Look at him! He’s like a little kid right now."

"He’s finally seeing his mother again. Of course he’s happy," John said, almost annoyed.

His gaze softened, just a little. Deep inside, he knew he’d feel the same if only he had the chance to see his mother again.

Celeste’s smile faded into something quieter. "Yeah..." She mumbled. Thoughts of her own mother clouded her mind, bittersweet and heavy. If her mother had been alive, Celeste knew things would’ve been different. She would’ve supported her... stood by her choices... and never forced her into something like that marriage with Cyril.

Amelia caught the shift in their moods and let out a small sigh. "Hey, come on," she said sternly, reaching out to pinch both of their cheeks. "Can’t you be happy for Victor at least?"

Celeste blinked, startled, then chuckled softly. She glanced toward Victor, the bright grin on his face, the bounce in his step and couldn’t help smiling herself. "Yeah," she whispered, "I’m happy for him."

Victor was one of her closest friends, after all.

John didn’t say anything, his eyes shadowed with unspoken thoughts. But beneath that hardened look, there was something gentler, a quiet, sincere maybe empathy that someone he could call a friend had finally found a piece of his family again.

Even if he couldn’t show it the same way.

Thelma was resting within one of the castle’s royal suites, a chamber reserved only for the most honored of guests or, in this case, a beloved sister and mother finally returned home. Though she was still recovering from the years she had spent imprisoned in Lazarus Raven’s dungeons, the room was filled with a quiet warmth.

When they entered, Thelma was already sitting up against a mountain of pillows, a radiant smile softening her face. Her recovery was nothing short of miraculous. The frail, malnourished woman they had rescued had vanished in her place sat a woman of stunning beauty, with long, wavy white hair cascading over her shoulders and eyes that gleamed like polished amber.

"Wow..." Amelia breathed, her eyes wide.

Even she couldn’t help but admire her. As expected of Alea’s sister, Thelma possessed that same dignified beauty though hers carried a softer, more mature grace. If someone had said she was barely in her thirties, no one would have questioned it. Certainly, she didn’t look like the mother of an eighteen-year-old.

"Oh, Victor!" Thelma’s eyes lit up the moment she saw her son. "Come here, my sweet boy!"

Victor barely had time to answer before he was pulled into her arms.

"Mother, how are you? Hmm!" His words were cut off as Thelma hugged him tightly, pressing him against her chest.

"I missed you so much, my cute son!" She let out, her voice trembling with joy.

"R-right, Mom..." Victor mumbled, his cheeks turning bright red. Still, the way his hands trembled as he held her back said everything embarrassment aside, he was happier than he’d been in years.

Celeste watched quietly from the side, a soft smile forming on her lips. She’d known Victor since childhood. She’d seen how he tried to laugh things off, how he hid that empty ache of growing up without a mother. His father, James, had always been an awkward father even to Alicia. But Thelma...

She was everything Victor had ever longed for. Loving, open, expressive she didn’t hesitate to show her affection. Watching her cradle Victor so naturally, Celeste felt her own heart swell.

Across from them, Alea sat by the bedside, eyes glistening with quiet joy. A faint chuckle escaped her as she watched her elder sister and nephew reunited. For so long, she had feared this day would never come. Losing Oryanna, and then Thelma, had left her shattered two sisters, gone one after another. But now, by some miracle, Thelma had returned.

For the first time in years, Alea’s family felt almost whole again.

Still, as she watched mother and son locked in each other’s arms, a faint shadow passed over her face, a flicker of melancholy she couldn’t quite suppress. But she quickly shook it off, forcing a gentle smile as she turned toward the others.

"Oh, you brought friends as well," she said warmly.

Her gaze swept over them. "Selene, Celeste, Amelia... and even" She paused briefly, her tone faltering. "John."

The moment his name left her lips, Alea’s expression softened into something distant. Like Christina, she couldn’t look at John without being reminded of Amael.

John, for his part, shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. Without Edward by his side, the room felt oddly heavy. He had visited this castle before but never without Edward.

He could feel the silent awkwardness, the traces of guilt lingering in both Christina’s and Alea’s eyes. It pressed down on him almost.

Without a word, he turned away, muttering something inaudible as he walked off, needing a breath of air.

"Greetings, Queen Alea. Just a minute," Amelia said with a polite smile before stepping back toward the doorway. She slipped outside to join John, who had been lingering in the corridor.

Inside, Alea sighed softly, watching them leave before turning back toward her sister.

"Oh, my lovely daughter-in-law," Thelma exclaimed suddenly, her eyes sparkling with joy as she stretched out her arms. "Come here, come into my arms as well!"

"Ah–no, I" Selene began, startled, but before she could finish, Thelma pulled her into a tight embrace.

"You’re so beautiful!" Thelma said, practically beaming as she held the flustered girl close. "You must come live with us from now on! Victor, you too! I’ll take care of you both!"

"M-Mother?!" Victor stuttered, his face turning bright red as he stared at her in disbelief.

From across the room, Christina let out a small sigh, half amused, half exasperated. "Aunt Thelma... you know Victor’s been living in Ravenia all this time, right?"

"Who cares!" Thelma protested, her voice quivering as tears began to pool in her eyes. "He’s my son! I want him close. Is that so wrong?"

The sight was almost comical but not for Alea who knew about her sister.

Celeste, watching the scene unfold, smiled faintly. It was heartwarming to see Victor so loved, so wanted. But as the laughter and chatter filled the room, a small pang of discomfort twisted inside her. She suddenly felt out of place.

Her smile wavered. Without saying a word, she quietly turned and slipped out into the hallway.

Outside, John and Amelia stood close together near a tall window, their voices hushed. They seemed lost in their own conversation. Celeste glanced their way just for a second then quickly looked away when they suddenly leaned on each other clearly for a kiss. She started walking in the opposite direction.

Before she could go far, a soft voice called out behind her.

"I’m sorry, Celeste."

Celeste paused and turned slightly. Alea had followed her out, her expression gentle but heavy with regret.

"Sorry?" Celeste asked quietly.

"I couldn’t stop it," Alea said with a bitter tone. "Your engagement... I tried to oppose it, but my words weren’t enough."

Celeste’s eyes softened. She had known, of course. The royal council and every other head of house had already decided. Alea had been the lone voice of protest, standing against the union between Celeste and Cyril.

Everyone had understood her reasons. They all knew too well why Alea’s opposition had sounded so fragile. Because Amael had loved Celeste. And Celeste... had loved him in return.

Celeste lowered her gaze. "It’s not your fault," she said softly. "You tried. That’s enough."

She wanted to say more that she had once hoped things would be different, that Amael would be the one she’d stand beside but the words caught in her throat, fading before they reached her lips.

The silence between them was broken suddenly by hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor.

"Y–Your Majesty!"

They turned just as Helga, the head maid, came rushing toward them, her face flushed from running though she wore a radiant smile.

"Helga?" Alea asked, brows lifting. "What’s the matter?"

Helga stopped before them, slightly out of breath but beaming. "W–We just received word... Princess Alicia has returned!"