I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 731: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [13] End Game Talk With John

The fifth day of the Blood Moon Festival arrived earlier than most would have preferred.

As dawn broke, the Trinity Eden Academy students were already being pulled from their slumber. Some shuffled along with heavy feet, while others made futile attempts to groom their hair before heading out.

A magnificent breakfast was prepared for them in the great dining hall—a massive chamber decorated with shimmering chandeliers and lengthy oak tables designed to accommodate the entire student body. The air hung heavy with the aroma of fresh bread, grilled meats, and sweet fruit preserves, all crafted by Ravenia’s top culinary masters.

The morning should have been tranquil.

It was anything but.

"Damn, I didn’t manage a single hour of sleep," Victor complained, letting out a yawn so wide it appeared painful as he walked alongside John.

"And why is that?" a deep, annoyed growl came from behind. "Were you too occupied dreaming about all the girls you’ve deceived, you bastard?"

The remark came from Rodolf, who was already wearing a heavy scowl before the meal had even commenced.

Victor spun around to glare at him. "It’s your fault, moron! You don’t just snore—you growl in your sleep. Tell him, John!"

John remained silent. His lack of words spoke volumes, though a small twitch in his jaw made his agreement evident. Had it not been for the rule that brawling during Festival events led to severe punishment, John likely would have struck Rodolf just to gain some peace.

Rodolf crossed his arms defiantly. "Trash like you doesn’t deserve rest anyway."

"What?!" Victor looked genuinely confused. "What the hell did I even do to you?"

"Roda," John finally interjected.

Victor blinked, shifting his gaze toward him. "What?"

John gave him a pointed look. "He’s fuming because you’ve started seeing Roda. His niece."

The realization hit Victor instantly.

Ah. So that was the source of the hostility.

Rodolf merely snorted, confirming the suspicion. His face made it clear: he was dead serious.

"Come on, man..." Victor sighed, rubbing the nape of his neck. "You know I genuinely love Roda. You can’t hold that against me forever."

"To hell with that! I’ll never accept it!" Rodolf barked.

There was a raw edge to his voice—not merely anger, but a fierce protectiveness. Since losing the Roda from the First Timeline, Rodolf had become intensely attached to the one currently before him. He refused to let her suffer again, regardless of the circumstances.

Victor raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I understand. You’re overprotective—I’ve been in your shoes. I felt the same when Alicia got engaged to Adrian, and he turned out to be a complete prick. If Percy ever ends up with a guy like that, I’ll act just like you. Still... if she has to be with someone, I’d prefer it be Amael."

John’s expression clouded at the mention of that name.

As if Edward’s endless 'gigolo aura' wasn't troublesome enough, now others were actively helping him expand his harem. Alicia, of all people—a Hidden Heroine and a pivotal figure from the Third Game. John didn’t even know how to process it anymore.

Before the tension could escalate, a voice broke through the air.

Speaking of her...

"What are you three bickering about this early?"

They turned to find Roda herself standing there with her arms folded, her golden eyes narrowing at her uncle. It was clear she had overheard the tail end of their dispute.

Rodolf’s lip twitched. "Roda... uh, it’s nothing. Come on, let’s go grab some food."

Roda wasn't convinced. she glanced toward Victor and offered a small smile. "I’m eating with Victor today."

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Victor’s arm and began pulling him away, leaving Rodolf rooted to the spot.

"..."

Rodolf’s face crumpled. It looked as though his heart had been stomped on right there in the hall.

John watched him with a sense of quiet pity. The scene was far too familiar—it reminded him of the sharp ache he felt whenever he saw Edward and Layla together, laughing as if they were the only two people in the world.

"You’ll get used to it," John remarked softly, looking at Rodolf.

Offering comfort wasn't usually his style, but seeing Rodolf standing there with a shattered expression as his niece walked away compelled John to speak. The words were blunt, yet sincere.

He understood the sting of that particular wound.

Heartache had a way of bringing even the most powerful men to their knees.

Fortunately, John had Amelia now. She was the one who kept his emotions balanced, a gentle warmth that countered his cold personality. Rodolf, in his own way, had Cylien, though their dynamic was... complicated.

John couldn't fathom the Elves of Eryon Plaidor—proud, ancient, and strictly traditional—ever consenting to their princess marrying a werewolf, even a royal one. For the moment, the topic was avoided. Rodolf and Cylien didn't hide their bond, but everyone acted as if it didn't exist.

And if Aerinwyn, the eldest sister and Heir to the throne, ever got involved... John already knew her decision. She would never permit her graceful little sister to wed someone she viewed as a savage, royal status notwithstanding.

"Hey," Rodolf muttered suddenly, breaking John’s train of thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets while scanning the hallway. "Where’s that idiot?"

John blinked. "Which idiot?"

"Nyr," Rodolf sighed. "Where is he?"

"Haven’t seen him."

Rodolf frowned, his ears twitching with annoyance. "Shouldn’t he be here? We were supposed to talk. The game is basically over—since Edward can't be the final antagonist, nothing bad can happen now... right?"

There was a glimmer of hope in his voice, but John didn't reply immediately.

The surface seemed calm. Lazarus was behind bars, and Edward Falkrona—the man destined to be the primary antagonist—no longer filled that role.

Everything appeared stable, perhaps too stable.

Yet, deep in his gut, John felt an uneasy pull. A faint intuition whispered that something was wrong.

"Cyril," John finally said. "He’s still out there."

Rodolf snorted, dismissing the name with a smirk. "What, that guy? He’s just a mid-tier villain who eventually gets thrashed by Victor, right?"

John gave a dry, humorless smile. He wished the situation were that simple.

He recalled Cyril’s face from their meeting in the capital—that polite, disarmingly warm grin. There was something unsettling about it, something that triggered John’s survival instincts.

"Just don't lower your guard around him," John cautioned.

Rodolf stretched his limbs lazily. "Yeah, yeah. What about Earth, then?"

"I’ll handle him if he makes a move," John said, his gaze darkening.

A new voice joined in before Rodolf could say anything else.

"Handle who exactly, John?"

John stopped dead in his tracks.

Amelia stood before him, arms crossed, a pout already forming on her lips.

"I hope you aren't discussing another woman," she said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

John let out a sigh. "Do you honestly think I’m like Edward?"

Rodolf let out a loud laugh. "Ha! That guy still hasn't changed when it comes to women, has he? If anything, it got worse after Ephera pulled him out of his shell. Should've left him where he was."

"Ephera?" Amelia tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Who is that?"

"It’s better if you don’t know," Rodolf said quickly.

"That’s quite rude, Rodolf," Cylien said in a scolding tone.

She had arrived as well, her long silver hair glowing softly in the morning light as she walked up to them.

"Oh—Cylien," Rodolf stammered, rubbing his neck as his face turned a shade of red. "You’re already here? You’ll be late, you know."

"That’s our line!" Amelia retorted. "We came looking for you because you two were taking forever."

Before John could respond, Amelia hooked her arm through his and began dragging him toward the dining hall.

"Let’s go before the food gets cold."

Behind them, Cylien gave Rodolf a soft smile. "Rodolf?" she called out gently.

Rodolf sighed, his cheeks still flushed as he followed her. "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming..."

...

...

Following breakfast, the day officially commenced for the Trinity Eden Academy students.

Once more, they were split into smaller groups—a tactic the instructors claimed was to 'encourage learning and exploration,' though everyone understood it was simply to keep the massive crowd of young prodigies under control.

Regardless, the students commanded attention everywhere they went. Hailing from Trinity Eden carried significant prestige; they weren't mere students—they were the elite of Sancta Vedelia, young geniuses who were already celebrities. Passersby whispered and pointed, desperate to catch a glimpse of them.

Among them, Roda Moonfang walked with a faint smile, even though the person she most wanted to see wasn't present. Her group hadn't been paired with Victor's, unfortunately.

Still, her pleasant mood remained.

The conversation she’d had with him earlier kept echoing in her mind.

Now came the difficult part: winning over her family.

As the sole princess of the Moonfang House, she was bound by more than just her feelings. Her bloodline carried the weight of history—and traditions that weren't easily broken. Certainly not for something as scandalous as becoming a second wife.

"I’ll need my brother’s assistance," she murmured to herself.

Rodolf, her overly protective uncle, would never help—she knew that much. Her father, Brian, likely wouldn't either. And her other uncle, Jefer... just the thought of approaching him made her stomach churn with anxiety.

That left only one person who might truly listen.

Her eldest brother—Percy.

"Oh..."

Her train of thought was broken when she looked up—and stopped in her tracks.

"Big brother?" she blurted out. "You aren't in my group, are you?"

Percy Moonfang stood there, his expression composed and calm.

"There is something we must discuss," he stated.

Roda blinked, her nervousness replaced by curiosity. Her group had already begun to move on, but she didn't hesitate. After a quick look back at them, she turned and followed Percy.

This was also the perfect chance to ask for his support when she eventually had to face her grandmother.

***

Meanwhile, John walked with his own group, staying a few paces behind as they navigated the packed plaza. Their destination was a monument honoring one of the kingdom’s greatest legends—Victor Quinn Raven, the Hero who had defeated Behemoth centuries ago.

The monument was massive, sculpted from pure white stone that glowed under the morning sun. Surrounding it, numerous magical projections reenacted scenes from the historic battle, showing his allies shouting words of encouragement as the massive Behemoth fell with a roar.

Students watched in wonder, whispering about the lifelike display.

To John, however, it was all just background noise.

He stood silently before the statue, hands shoved in his pockets. To a casual observer, he might have looked like he was admiring the art—but in reality, his mind was miles away.

"I didn’t think you were the type to appreciate statues," a voice remarked suddenly.

"...!"

The voice came from right beside him. A figure stood there, wrapped in a dark hoodie with the hood pulled low. Despite the disguise, John recognized him instantly.

He turned his head slightly, his cold eyes narrowing as he met the man’s partially hidden grin.

"You..."

"It’s been a while, John."

***

"It’s been a while, John."

It felt like an eternity since I’d last seen him, though only two weeks had passed. Regardless, he hadn't changed much.

John’s expression hardened. "What... just—" He narrowed his eyes at me.

"How have things been with you and Amelia? Did you two finally have your first time, or what?" I asked.

"I’m going to kill you, Edward."

"I was just curious if my future brother-in-law was still a virgin," I said with a shrug.

John snorted and looked away. Then he asked the question that had been eating at him for the past fortnight. "Where the hell did you go?"

"It’s a long story."

He glared at me. I ignored it. There was too much to discuss and too little time to do it.

"I see I missed quite a bit while I was away," I remarked with a hint of regret. Part of me wished I’d been there to see Lazarus Raven dragged off to a cell; I would have enjoyed witnessing that downfall in person.

"We’re nearing the end, you know that much at least," John reminded me.

"I know." I gave a single nod.

"She’s getting married in two days," John said, bringing up Celeste’s impending marriage to Cyril.

"..."

"...And you’re just going to let it happen?" John pressed. "Let Cyril have her?"

I watched the crowd: students pointing at the magical projections, laughing at the spectacle.

"Cyril is planning something," I said. "I don’t know the details yet. If he’s hiding it, it’s not in the castle itself. Try to investigate where he meets people—but be careful."

"Why not just beat the truth out of him?" John asked bluntly.

Because I’m being banished in two days, I thought. Because causing a scene now would only get me kicked out of Sancta Vedelia before the final act. "If I look suspicious, the Heads will expel me early. I don’t want to be exiled before the final day. And even if we thrashed him, he probably wouldn't talk. He isn't that kind of fool."

Rodolf snorted from somewhere behind us. "He looks pretty confident, though."

"Like all villains right before they get their asses handed to them," I said. There was a weariness in my voice I couldn't quite conceal.

Then, a more honest thought surfaced. "John—there’s a real chance we don’t survive this. If I die—tell Layla I love her. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise."

He stared at me for a long moment.

"Tell her yourself," he snapped, exactly as I expected.

I let out a small laugh. Still, I knew I could count on him to deliver the message if the worst happened.

"Are you hiding anything else?" John asked suddenly.

"A lot," I admitted with a nod. "I’ll tell you when the Game concludes."

He nudged me. "Won’t be long now."

I let out a sigh.

"It feels like forever since that ship dropped us off here," I remarked, looking back.

"After that idiot king threw us into this mess, nothing has been simple," John snorted.

"You really shoved Walter back then, huh? Were you sure I’d kill him?" I asked, feeling amused.

"Yeah. I would have done the same," John replied.

My thoughts briefly drifted to Elona, and my smile faded. Since that time, everything had changed. Some things for the better, others for the worse.

"Stay alert," I told him, turning to leave.

"Is that all?" John asked.

"What else do you want? I was supposed to be the Main Antagonist. That’s off the table now—everything is uncertain. You’re the one closest to Cyril, so keep your eyes open."

"What will you be doing until then?" he inquired.

"I’m still a student." I shrugged it off with a faint smile. "So I’ll be around."

John’s eyes shifted to my arm and his expression changed. "Good luck with that," he said, turning away.

I followed his gaze and looked down.

A thorny vine was wrapped around my forearm, its small barbs sinking into my skin.

Dammit.

Before I could react, it jerked me back with violent force.