I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 748: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [30] Aerinwyn VS Cyril

"What is your business here?" Aerinwyn’s freezing stare didn’t even flicker toward Cyril—instead, it remained fixed solely on Kendel.

"There was a matter I needed to settle with Cyril," Kendel answered.

"So you managed to break free after all," Aerinwyn remarked, her features twisting into an expression of pure disdain. "A treacherous, pitiful insect like yourself... have you decided to join forces with another piece of traitorous filth like Cyril?"

Kendel exhaled a short, weary breath. "Do we honestly look like teammates to you?"

Aerinwyn observed him for a heavy, silent interval. Then, extending her arm, an elegant green blade manifested in her palm with a soft, ethereal glow.

"It makes no difference," she declared. "Both of you shall perish here."

—BOOOM!!

Her mana surged outward in a ferocious blast, causing the atmosphere to warp around her figure.

"What a tiresome woman," Cyril grumbled, a smirk playing on his lips. However, the instant he detected a surge of murderous intent from behind, he spun on his heel and lashed out with his blade.

Kendel’s sword—Alvara’s—came whistling toward him in a brutal, sweeping arc.

—BOOM!!

Cyril used a burst of mana to propel himself away, successfully evading both Kendel and Aerinwyn—who had lunged directly at Kendel instead.

Reacting with lightning speed, Kendel swung his weapon to parry her heavy strike.

—BOOOM!

The sheer force of the collision skidded him backward across the earth, his boots carving deep ruts into the soil until he finally managed to anchor himself. Even then, he struggled—Aerinwyn’s mana bore down upon his steel with the crushing weight of a mountain.

"You can settle your grudge with me later," Kendel growled through clenched teeth. "Right now, Cyril is the priority. If he completes that spell... nothing will be able to stop the consequences. And he is almost finished."

Aerinwyn offered no verbal response. She merely kicked off the dirt, leaping backward just as Cyril launched a barrage of sanguine lances at the pair.

Moving as a blurred shadow, Kendel’s blade shredded the majority of the spears before they could make contact, though a few sliced his skin—leaving thin red streaks across his arms. He leaped away from the final cluster as they slammed into the ground.

—BOOOOM!!

He glanced up just in time to see Aerinwyn re-engaging Cyril in close combat.

Their blades clashed repeatedly, creating a frantic display of steel and mana. Every impact sent ripples of force outward, rattling nearby structures and fracturing the earth. Aerinwyn fought with the fury of a localized hurricane—each stroke of her sword released razor-sharp air currents that tore at Cyril’s flesh despite his agility.

Although Cyril’s regeneration closed the gashes almost instantly, he realized he could not allow her to maintain this relentless momentum.

"Just as I thought... I really should have finished you off long ago," Cyril whispered before his lips curled into a grin.

Blood erupted from his pores, forming a thick, swirling cocoon that forced Aerinwyn to retreat. Without a moment's hesitation, she drove her sword directly into the crimson mass.

The sphere burst apart.

Sanguine fluid sprayed across her limb and weapon, latching on like sentient shackles that hardened to pin her movements.

Cyril materialized at her flank in a heartbeat, his blade glowing with lethal intent as he aimed for her defenseless side.

Aerinwyn remained stoic. Her gaze stayed composed, prepared for a counter—but a vine suddenly whipped out from behind Cyril, wrapping around his wrist and violently jerking him away from his target.

Cyril clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Kendel appeared at his rear and delivered a devastating kick. Cyril raised his arm to intercept the blow, but—

—CRACK!

Despite his healing factor, the bone snapped under the impact, sending him tumbling through the air.

He rotated mid-flight—only to find Aerinwyn already positioned for his arrival, her sword poised to strike.

Cyril gave a mocking smile. Dozens of bloody spikes materialized above him, hovering like a macabre star field before raining down toward Aerinwyn.

She barely shifted her stance. An intricate green magic circle flared into existence behind her—one of her own unique creations.

As the blood projectiles passed through the sigil, they crumbled into a fine crimson powder.

The red dust drifted like falling embers, vanishing into nothing as Aerinwyn lowered her guard once Cyril regained his footing.

His smirk faltered, replaced by a look of irritation.

Kendel landed softly at Aerinwyn’s side, though neither acknowledged the other. It seemed she had either taken his warning to heart or recognized that Cyril represented the ultimate threat that required immediate elimination.

Cyril cracked his neck loudly. "Two against one... how troublesome."

Tendrils of blood slithered around him, twitching like aggressive snakes mirroring his foul mood.

Aerinwyn let out a sharp exhale.

"Silence."

Her tone was even more frigid than before.

Kendel adjusted his posture, vines wrapping around his arms like living gauntlets, their emerald light thrumming with vitality. "Let’s end this."

Cyril grinned.

"Then come and try."

—BOOOOOM!!!

The earth buckled as all three moved simultaneously.

Aerinwyn reached him first—her sword cutting through the atmosphere with a screaming gale along its edge. Cyril narrowly avoided the strike, his body contorting in an inhuman fashion.

However, Kendel was already hovering above him.

A net of vines exploded from Kendel’s sleeve, dozens of thorned lashes dripping with toxic mana. Cyril clicked his tongue and swung his sword in a wide, upward sweep.

A wave of blood shredded the descending vines in midair.

But Kendel’s assault persisted. The moment his initial attack was destroyed, new roots erupted from the broken earth beneath Cyril, coiling upward like serpents targeting his legs.

Instead of retreating, Cyril slammed his palm into the ground.

Blood bled from his fingertips, racing across the soil in a red pulse.

Any vine that made contact with the fluid withered instantly, decaying into a foul black sludge.

"You’ll have to do better," Cyril mocked.

Aerinwyn obliged.

Wind swirled around her feet as she charged once more, her speed bending the very air. Her following strike wasn't just a physical blow—it unleashed a crescent of pressurized wind that flew forward like a reaper's scythe.

Cyril parried upward with his blade.

—BOOOM!!

The wind-scythe shattered into violent, swirling drafts that whipped around them.

Yet, Cyril failed to notice Kendel appearing behind him the moment the wind dissipated. Kendel arrived with mana-enhanced velocity, stomping his foot down with enough power to shatter the foundation of the area.

Hundreds of vines surged out in every direction.

Cyril’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. "How persistent—"

Before he could mount a defense, Aerinwyn snapped her fingers.

The chaotic air currents from her previous spell responded to her command, converging inward with lethal precision.

They sharpened into razor-thin gusts, striking Cyril from every possible angle.

Cyril’s mana surged. Blood poured from his skin, hardening into a suit of armor.

The wind blades hammered against the sanguine shield.

Myriad small gashes opened across Cyril’s shoulders and arms. His regeneration worked frantically, but it could no longer keep pace with the damage.

He grunted in frustration.

Kendel capitalized on the moment. Roots as thick as ancient trees burst from the ground, hardening into bark-like spears as they lunged toward Cyril. Cyril spun, hacking through several of them—but he missed the final one.

A vine clamped around his ankle like a steel trap.

Cyril’s jaw tightened. "Tch—"

Aerinwyn moved instantly. Raising her sword, the air above her compressed into a shimmering orb of rotating wind.

"Fall."

She brought her blade down.

The orb erupted into a deluge of cutting wind.

It struck Cyril squarely in the side, hurling him into a crumbling stone wall.

—BOOOOOOM!!!

A cloud of debris filled the air, and Cyril was lost within the wreckage.

Kendel didn't wait for the dust to settle. Thrusting his hands forward, a massive wave of vines sealed the crater where Cyril had landed.

Aerinwyn rotated her sword, wind gathering around her like a loyal storm. "He isn't finished."

"That much is obvious."

The earth began to quake.

Kendel’s vines started to bulge outward.

A crimson light began to bleed through the gaps.

Then—

A fountain of blood exploded, tearing the vines into tiny fragments. The blood ascended like a pillar, and as it reached its peak, Cyril stepped out of the flow with an eerie calm.

His entire form was saturated in red, appearing more like a monster born of blood than a human.

"The two of you..." Cyril’s grin now held a manic edge. "...are starting to irritate me."

A bead of blood rolled down his cheek—but rather than falling, it rose to hover before his eyes.

Then it began to multiply.

Hundreds of tiny blood spheres floated around him like glowing red insects, each vibrating with deadly mana.

Kendel cursed under his breath. "Those look dangerous."

Aerinwyn’s eyes narrowed. She recognized this technique.

"Get back."

But Cyril gave no quarter.

"Disperse."

Every sphere shot forward at extreme speeds, creating a 360-degree blizzard of blood needles.

Aerinwyn retreated, wind erupting beneath her soles. Kendel slammed his hand onto the ground, causing a massive wall of thick roots to rise as a shield.

The needles struck.

The roots splintered and shattered. Those that held firm lasted only seconds before being obliterated by the red hail.

Aerinwyn’s wind barrier endured longer, but it too began to fail as red punctures appeared in the gale.

Cyril watched the destruction with dark amusement.

Their defenses finally crumbled.

Both wind and wood were destroyed.

Aerinwyn and Kendel were forced to evade the needles through sheer instinct—rolling, sliding, and flipping to avoid a lethal strike.

But Cyril wasn't finished yet.

As Aerinwyn regained her balance after deflecting a final needle, Cyril was already standing before her.

"Running is quite rude."

He swung his blade.

Aerinwyn’s eyes flashed. She ducked low as wind exploded around her, the sword barely nicking her cheek.

Kendel appeared behind Cyril once more, using his vines to catapult himself forward. He threw a heavy, mana-infused punch toward the base of Cyril’s skull.

Cyril didn't even turn around.

A wall of blood erupted from his back, catching Kendel’s fist.

—BOOOOM

Kendel was hurled backward, smashing into a boulder and reducing it to rubble.

Aerinwyn attempted to follow up, but Cyril’s blood whips lashed at her feet. She jumped, spinning in the air to sever three of them before landing in a roll.

Cyril tilted his head curiously. "You two are remarkably in sync for people who despise one another."

"We aren't in sync," Kendel spat, dragging himself from the debris while coughing up blood.

Cyril blinked, then broke into a laugh. "How charming."

His laughter stopped abruptly.

Kendel suddenly charged, vines striking out like whips—some pointed, some blunt, some constricting—each carrying a different mana signature.

Cyril parried the first strike.

He was unprepared for the ninety-six that followed.

Kendel had abandoned all subtlety. His attacks rained down from every angle with savage violence, like a forest possessed by madness.

Cyril hacked through vines left and right, but the sheer quantity began to overwhelm him, forcing him into a defensive stance.

This was exactly the opportunity Aerinwyn required.

She took a deep breath.

The atmosphere around her began to shimmer like a desert mirage.

Wind mana pooled—and pooled—and pooled.

Her feet drifted off the ground as the pressure intensified. Small stones vibrated before lifting into the air. The grass was flattened in a widening spiral. Even Kendel’s vines wavered under the pressure.

"...!"

Cyril’s internal alarms screamed.

He cut through three more vines and tried to leap away.

A sudden gust pinned him to the spot.

Aerinwyn’s cold emerald eyes locked onto him before she unleashed the spell.

For a heartbeat, there was total silence.

Then the world exploded.

—BOOOOM!!

A shockwave of cutting wind radiated from her, moving in spiraling channels that shredded the earth. The vortexes danced across the field, gouging trenches into the stone and tearing up the street's greenery.

Cyril roared in pain as several spirals tore through his legs and torso, ripping away chunks of flesh before his healing factor could react.

He struck back immediately.

Blood surged in a violent cyclone around him, pulling in vines, dust, and stone. The hurricane expanded like a grotesque, blooming flower.

Kendel shouted in alarm. "HEY!!"

Aerinwyn was already in motion.

Even her wind couldn't fully halt the growing blood storm.

She carved a path through the cyclone and dove inside without hesitation, her blade thrumming with concentrated wind.

Inside the storm, everything was a hazy, metallic red. Vision was nearly impossible—but she could track Cyril’s mana signature.

She slashed upward.

Wind sliced through the crimson fog.

Cyril leaped back into view, draped in writhing blood tendrils. "How reckless."

"You talk far too much."

Wind swirled around her again—this time focusing entirely on her legs.

Cyril’s eyes widened.

Aerinwyn vanished from sight.

She reappeared instantly, delivering a kick to his face that tore away half his cheek. Cyril’s body spun through the air.

Before he could recover, vines snaked up from the ground, binding his leg and slamming him down.

Cyril drove his sword into the earth, releasing a burst of blood spikes that forced Kendel to back off.

Aerinwyn landed nearby, her breathing becoming heavy, yet her focus remained sharp. She shared a fleeting glance with Kendel.

He gave a short nod.

Cyril stood up again, his flesh already knitting back together. "You—"

He paused.

The wind had changed.

Aerinwyn stood perfectly still, her hand on her hilt and her silver hair whipping about despite her lack of movement. The air was compressing again—tighter and faster than before.

Cyril recognized the technique.

His pupils dilated.

"No—"

Aerinwyn didn't speak.

She simply moved.

No incantation, no warning, no flare.

Just raw, unadulterated speed.

The world became a blur.

Cyril barely managed to position his sword.

A scream of wind tore past him, far too fast for his eyes to register.

—BOOOM!!

Cyril’s torso twisted at an impossible angle as Aerinwyn’s blade slammed into his ribs, bypassing his blood armor and muscle. He was sent tumbling through three boulders before finally coming to a halt, coughing up a spray of blood.

The attack wasn't merely strong.

It was a savage, executioner's blow.

Kendel watched in stunned silence.

Aerinwyn stood at the point of impact, her sword dripping with fresh blood.

Cyril looked up from the center of the crater, his eyes trembling.

"You... you actually tried to kill me..." Cyril spat out blood, yet he still managed a twisted grin.

Had it not been for his regeneration—supercharged by the Blood Moon—he would have perished instantly.

"But that isn't enough," he smirked, pushing himself up as blood began to crawl over his skin like living thread. His body began to radiate a deep, ominous crimson aura.

"It is," Aerinwyn replied flatly.

Her voice was steady, but her complexion had turned dangerously pale.

Cyril’s grin vanished.

"...!"

His senses finally alerted him to the trap.

Four gargantuan nine-layered mana circles materialized around him—one at each cardinal point—locking him in a perfect cage. Above him, a fifth circle appeared, even more massive and intricate, casting a dark shadow over the area.

He was completely boxed in.

But the circles themselves were the true nightmare.

These were another of Aerinwyn’s original mana circles—dense and incredibly complex. They weren't ordinary; they pulsed like mechanical heartbeats, each layer spinning in opposing directions, burning with the light of green stars.

Cyril felt a chill run down his spine.

How had he failed to notice this setup?

An immense quantity of refined mana flooded the area, warping the air and crushing his chest. His limbs grew heavy, pinned by a force that felt like ten times normal gravity.

Aerinwyn raised her blade, pointing it directly at his heart.

"Be torn to pieces."

"...!"

Cyril reacted out of pure desperation.

Blood erupted from every pore in a frantic attempt to create a shield.

It was futile.

—BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

The mana circles discharged all their stored wind at once.

The battlefield vanished in a blinding flash of white and emerald light.

The resulting shockwave roared across the land, tilling the earth and sending massive rocks flying. It carved deep scars into the ground as if a giant had raked it with claws.

Kendel shielded his face, vines swirling around him as the force pushed him back several meters.

The sheer power of the blast was enough to scorch the air itself.

He gritted his teeth, watching Aerinwyn’s motionless silhouette.

Was he even needed here anymore?

But the slight shaking of her hand, her ghostly pale face, and the sweat on her brow told the true story.

She had pushed her mana reserves to their absolute limit.

Yet, considering Cyril’s monstrous healing and the influence of the Blood Moon, nothing short of this total destruction would be sufficient.

Eventually, the shockwaves died down.

The cyclone of dust and blood mist began to clear.

—Thud!

"A–Aghh!!"

Aerinwyn raised her hand and, with a tired flick of her wrist, swept away the remaining haze.