I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 752: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [34] Against Cyril Raven

"Are Gods immortal?" Cleenah echoed my inquiry, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"Yeah, I mean, are you people eternal or what?" I questioned once more, my gaze wandering across the boundless verdant horizon that enveloped us.

The dimension Cleenah occupied was... stunning. It was a serene, everlasting grassland where the firmament radiated a gentle pearlescent glow and the atmosphere felt crisp and pure—a far cry from the wretched dungeon where I had been left to decay.

Truthfully, if the option existed to remain here indefinitely, I would take it.

Regardless, it likely didn't matter. My departure for Sancta Vedelia was imminent. At the very least, that hellish prison would finally be a memory.

"Immortal, you say? Is that what you believe we are?" Cleenah asked. Her voice carried a playful edge, yet it was laced with an unusual depth of reflection.

"Are you not Gods? If you can all undergo reincarnation like Persephone—inhabiting Vessels and the like—then that is essentially immortality, isn't it?"

Cleenah released a heavy breath. "Persephone did not simply reincarnate into Mary, Amael."

"But aren't they effectively the same individual?"

"In certain respects, yes," she replied, her finger rhythmically tapping her knee. "Persephone possessed all of Mary’s recollections. To put it in perspective... Mary represents Persephone as she was before Hades claimed her. In fact—now that I articulate it—that is a perfect comparison. She truly feels like the Persephone of old once again."

I slumped onto the lush turf, interlacing my fingers behind my skull while observing the luminous sky above.

"I'm eager to see her," I whispered.

"If your wish is for Hades to personally sever your head from your shoulders, be my guest," Cleenah remarked with dry wit.

"Is a secret meeting out of the question?" I inquired. I was fully aware of how absurd the suggestion was, yet I felt compelled to ask.

"You truly lack any instinct for self-preservation, don't you?" she countered.

I let out a soft snort, and a brief silence settled between us.

Then, a follow-up question emerged, more subdued than before. "You mentioned she was different... what was the meaning behind that? I understand she is Mary, but she is also more Persephone now, right? If I descend to the Underworld to find her... will she depart with me?"

Cleenah made a thoughtful sound. "It is difficult to predict. Knowing Persephone, her actions are never certain. And Amael... in her eyes, you are still little more than a child. She has endured more worlds, more spans of time, and more agony than you can imagine. While she may harbor a pure, guileless affection for you, her fundamental nature—her true persona—will inevitably take precedence."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

She adjusted her position to sit beside me, pulling her knees tight against her chest. "It means," she articulated carefully, "that she might turn you away even if her heart belongs to you... and even if yours belongs to her."

"What?" I shifted to look directly at her.

"It may be a difficult concept for you to grasp," she continued, "but occasionally, one must make decisions that conflict with every emotion they hold—even if it results in wounding the person they cherish most."

As those words left her lips, her eyes drifted toward the shimmering sky, becoming distant and filled with a sense of longing. It was a rare sight to see Cleenah so solemn. A soft gust of wind played through her long, lustrous green tresses, making them glint like silken emeralds. From this angle, her profile seemed ethereal—perfect lines softened by a quiet melancholy. Her long lashes brushed the light as they moved, and her jewel-like eyes appeared to contain untold histories. Her mouth parted slightly, as if she were weighing whether to speak a hidden truth.

I couldn't help myself—I was captivated once more. No matter how much I tell myself I've grown accustomed to her presence, I never truly do.

Sensing my stare, Cleenah suddenly pivoted toward me. I snapped my gaze away immediately, feeling a surge of heat in my face. If she caught me blushing, she would haunt me with jests for the next five centuries.

"You still haven't provided an answer to my question," I said, trying to change the subject.

"Ah, that," she noted, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, that depends entirely on your definition of immortality."

"Stop dancing around the subject."

"So restless," she giggled.

"Nevia is going to fade away," I stated flatly.

"Yes," Cleenah confirmed with a slight nod.

"But why? Is she not a Goddess?"

She let out a soft sigh. "Reality is rarely that simple. We are Gods, certainly, but that does not grant us invincibility. We are capable of dying. I can die as well."

"What? Why are you speaking like someone with a death flag?" I glared at her.

She turned to me, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "My dear Nyr, are you frightened that I might leave you behind?"

"It wouldn't be a first," I grumbled. "What on earth do you even do when you vanish for days at a time?"

"You missed me that much, did you?" She grinned.

I let out a groan. Maintaining a serious conversation with her was a lost cause.

I looked away, but Cleenah suddenly hovered over me, her face stopping just inches from mine. Her fragrance—crisp, sweet, and nearly intoxicating—enveloped me. Strands of her hair brushed my cheek, feeling as soft as fine silk.

I could feel my pulse racing in my chest.

She offered a smile, so close that her breath fanned across my skin.

"Do not fret," she murmured. "I will always remain by your side."

***

-BOOOOM!!

A massive shockwave ripped through the earth beneath my feet.

"Ugh—!" I grunted, jumping back as a sharp edge sliced across my right arm. Hot blood began to soak into my sleeve.

A blood puppet of Cyril’s—a twisted, grotesque horror—lunged toward me with a screech that defied nature.

"What are you playing at?" Kendel demanded while hacking through another monstrosity. Yet, for every one he felled, two more emerged from the swirling orb of blood Cyril controlled.

"Kendel Teraquin... playing savior to a Half-Human."

Cyril’s voice hissed from behind him.

He manifested out of thin air, his crimson eyes sparkling with malice. "I have witnessed several intriguing sights today."

His sword swung toward Kendel.

Kendel moved in a flash, calling forth thick vines from the earth with a surge of emerald mana.

Cyril cut through them with ease, but the vegetation bought Kendel just enough time to bring his blade up.

The metal collided with a thunderous ring, and Kendel was sent skidding backward, his boots digging deep furrows into the ground.

Suddenly, Cyril’s attention shifted to me.

And he disappeared.

Every instinct I had screamed in warning. I raised my arm in defense—

-BAM!!

"Ugh!"

The force of the strike sent me tumbling. My ribcage shook from the blow, but I forced my body to rotate in the air and stick the landing.

"Are you lost in a dream?" Kendel barked again, throwing a glare my way.

I gripped my hilt with more intensity, refusing to meet his gaze.

Yes... I was indeed daydreaming.

And at the worst possible moment.

Why was Cleenah occupying my thoughts right now?

The mental images kept flashing—shards of memory disrupting my focus. Her voice, her expression, that specific moment in her realm. The more I recalled, the more it stung.

She had told me I wouldn't see her again.

But if there was even the most minuscule, infinitesimal chance... I would seize it.

However, to find her, to look upon her face again—I had to survive this ordeal first.

"I've got a plan," I finally spoke, moving to stand beside Kendel. "Pay attention."

I gave him the briefest summary. Kendel watched me for a beat—looking as though he wanted to cross-examine me or perhaps question my mental state—but eventually, he just gave a curt nod.

"Then let’s finish this," I declared, turning my focus back to Cyril.

Without a second word, I charged.

The blood monsters reacted instantly, rushing me with jagged claws and gnashing teeth. But Kendel slammed his sword into the dirt.

Vines erupted everywhere—massive, wooden, and vibrating with Prana. They shredded the puppets blocking my path, carving a straight trajectory toward Cyril.

I seized the moment.

I darted through the gap and swung Trinity Nihil with every ounce of power I possessed.

-BOOOOM!!

Cyril deflected the strike with a careless flick of his red blade, grinning as sparks flew between us.

The moment our blades met, the impact traveled up my arm like a bolt of lightning. The ground beneath us shattered into a web of cracks. Cyril’s smirk grew wider as he forced me back, his red eyes burning with chaotic joy.

Behind me, Kendel drove his blade into the soil once more.

"Rise!"

The earth exploded upward.

Vines as thick as pillars burst from the ground, coiled like cobras as they lunged for Cyril. Some were honed to points like spears, while others were covered in hard thorns the size of knives. The air grew heavy with the smell of fresh wood and torn leaves.

Cyril didn't even flinch.

His blood throbbed—literally pulsed—around his body, creating a scarlet aura. With a swift motion, he swept his hand to the side.

A crescent wave of liquid blood flew out, cutting through the first wave of vines as if they were nothing. Kendel gritted his teeth, forcing more to grow. But the blood wave didn't stop—

It was heading straight for me.

I reacted on instinct.

Purple flames erupted from my flesh, coiling around my arm. I brought Trinity Nihil down in a heavy arc, drenching the blade in a dark layer of fire.

The blood strike and my flames slammed into one another.

-BOOOOOOM!!!

The resulting blast drowned the world in red and violet. My ears began to ring. Debris and sparks filled the air, and for a split second, my vision was completely obscured.

Then a firm hand grabbed my collar and pulled me to the side.

I stumbled just as Cyril’s blade tore through the space I had occupied a second ago.

"Keep your head in the game, human!" Kendel yelled, vines thrashing around him like whips. "He is faster than both of us."

"I've noticed, Elf!" I snapped back, dodging a blood puppet that lunged through the haze.

The puppet shrieked—its form was a twisted, humanoid mess made of flowing blood. Its arms were elongated blades, dripping with crimson essence.

I thrust my palm forward.

White Sand spiraled around my wrist, hissing as it expanded. It grew in the air, forming a shimmering, crystalline shield.

The puppet slammed into it—and the sand consumed its form, pulverizing the blood into dust until nothing was left.

It was more effective than burning them, preventing them from reforming, but it was draining my mana too quickly.

And Cyril was far from finished.

He emerged from the dissipating smoke. His sword shone, coated in a thick, writhing blood that seemed to have a will of its own.

He flicked his wrist.

Bloody humanoids erupted from the earth—four this time, larger and more solid than the previous ones. Their eyes burned with demonic light, and their teeth were jagged and predatory.

Kendel cursed under his breath. "It never ends."

"Then I'll just have to incinerate them," I muttered. "Rings of Vysindra."

Before Kendel could intervene, I surged forward. Purple fire erupted from my feet, propelling my leap. I flipped over the lead puppet, slashing down while in the air.

Anathemas Fire flared, exploding on impact and releasing a ring of violet destruction.

-BOOOOOM!!

The creature vanished instantly, its body turning into a red mist that ascended like smoke from the abyss.

The second puppet lunged, swinging its blade-arms like scythes.

I manifested a mirror beside me—a sharp, translucent pane glowing with purple light. The puppet’s strike went straight into the mirror.

The surface rippled like water.

Then its own arm burst out of a second mirror behind it.

It pierced through its own chest.

The puppet went rigid, twitching before it dissolved into red. I didn't give it a chance to recover, shattering the mirror and burning the remains.

Two remained.

Kendel’s vines lashed out like serpents, binding the limbs and neck of one puppet. The creature fought back—but the vines tightened. I heard the sickening sound of its bone-like structure snapping.

The final puppet charged me with incredible speed.

A vertical mirror appeared in my path. The puppet lunged—and I stepped back into the glass as its claws passed through me without harm.

I stepped out behind it, my blade already wreathed in purple fire.

My sword sliced through its spine. Violet flames erupted, reducing the puppet to a cloud of crimson ash.

Cyril began to clap slowly.

"You possess some interesting parlor tricks."

He became a blur.

One moment he was ten meters away.

The next, he was right in my face.

His sword slammed into Trinity Nihil.

The shockwave was deafening.

The ground beneath us formed a crater. A vortex of dust swirled upward. I gritted my teeth and pushed back, my feet carving tracks into the earth.

He grinned. "Faster."

We traded blows again and again—and again.

-BOOOOM!!

The world became a series of red and purple flashes.

Our blades struck with such intensity that shockwaves tore at the soil, uprooting the grass and cracking the stone. Every clash sent a vibration straight into my bones.

Cyril increased the pressure, laughing.

"You are far too emotional, Amael," he mocked.

"Shut your mouth."

I pushed forward, swinging Trinity Nihil with more speed, more heat, and more force. Purple fire hissed around my arms, climbing up the blade in a blazing inferno. Sparks showered with every hit.

Cyril parried me easily once more, though his grin grew. "With only this much strength, you dared to claim Celeste?"

Something inside me snapped.

Wrath was ignited.

Purple particles flooded from my skin like a blizzard of tiny stars—violent, erratic, and burning with a desire for destruction.

Cyril’s smirk finally faltered.

I moved with sudden speed.

Faster than before, faster than he could anticipate.

Cyril raised his blade—but Trinity Nihil, empowered by Wrath and Anathemas Fire, struck him with a force that sent him skidding back.

Kendel grabbed the opportunity.

"Bloom!"

A gargantuan thorned vine burst from the earth, thicker than a tree, wrapping around Cyril like a crushing python. Thorns pierced his skin, drawing dark blood.

Cyril grimaced. "Tiresome."

"Do it now!" Kendel yelled.

While Cyril was pinned—even for a second—I called forth six mirrors in a circle around him. They hovered in the air.

Cyril looked around. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It's a cage," I replied.

White Sand surged around the mirrors, creating a swirling dome that sealed him inside entirely.

Then I reached out my hand.

"Sin of Wrath: Convergence."

Every purple particle around me rushed toward the dome.

The ground split under the sheer pressure. Kendel covered his face as the wind howled around us, sending debris flying.

Inside the dome, Cyril’s expression changed for the first time, showing a hint of concern.

"Blood Art—"

I didn't give him the chance.

"Collapse."

The mirrors blazed with light. The white sand constricted. The dome shrank at an impossible speed, crushing Cyril within.

The entire structure detonated.

-BOOOOOOM!!!

Purple light consumed the entire battlefield.