I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 768: [The Rewritten Lost Past] [8]

-BOOOM!!

A deafening clash reverberated fiercely, slicing through the atmosphere.

Trees shuddered violently. Terrifying birds fled in frenzied swarms. The earth quivered from the reverberations of colossal forces colliding at velocities beyond comprehension.

Three silhouettes streaked across the vast emerald sea of Xenithia’s woodland, though 'blur' barely captured their speed. They surged even quicker, beyond what eyes could easily follow, darting amid and over the venerable trees in seemingly orchestrated paths, save for the genuine havoc they left behind.

Two versus one. Perpetually two against one.

Lisandra and Alphonse had developed a seamless, silent alliance through years of practice bouts, launching synchronized assaults that would crush most foes under relentless joint force.

Yet Amael thwarted them. Each instance. Every direction. Every sly deception and true onslaught—he anticipated, repelled, and redirected them with the poise of one far ahead, patiently allowing them to close the distance at their pace.

Lisandra surged ahead with bursting velocity, her rapier blazing as she advanced, dark azure flames coiling around the edge with ravenous fervor, heating the air until it warped and flickered. She slashed in a broad sweep, unleashing a gigantic surge of blue inferno toward Amael like a sentient beast, charring all in its course.

Amael countered with crisp efficiency. His silver blade descended in one fluid stroke, cleaving right through the flame surge's heart and dividing it neatly apart. The divided sections veered away from him without harm, searing the flanking trees while sparing him in the central void.

Even before the fires fully faded, crackling mana heralded Alphonse’s assault.

Golden bolts enveloped her as she appeared right behind him, her path concealed by Lisandra’s diversion, her elongated golden sword already arcing midway toward his vulnerable rear—

But Amael disappeared.

Alphonse’s eyes widened in shock, her sword slicing empty space where he had stood moments before. Her inertia propelled her onward through his former spot, and she twisted airborne, frantically searching, her gaze darting—

"Where did he go?!" Lisandra yelled from her spot, pivoting rapidly, her lone eye sweeping the skies and treetops, rapier poised guardedly.

"Looking for me?"

The voice sounded from immediately behind her.

A shiver raced down her back, and raw reflex dominated. She whirled and erupted with all her might in a single detonation, her rapier dragging a colossal cascade of blue blaze that ravaged the woodland rearward, torching trees and etching a trail of ruin and flickering embers over scores of meters.

The wreckage was immense. Smoke billowed. Sparks floated. Numerous trees collapsed with resounding thuds.

"Was that really necessary?"

The voice echoed from behind her once more.

"You—!"

Lisandra’s head snapped around, humiliation flaring across her features, and there he stood, utterly at ease, sword loosely at his hip, regarding her as if she’d performed something faintly amusing.

Her frame reacted prior to thought, coiling into a guarded stance as Amael’s leg flickered.

The kick struck low and swift at her flank. Lisandra dropped her arm to defend, mitigating the brunt, but the strike’s power was absurd, hurling her rearward like a doll. Her form ripped through the sky, slammed into the soil with jarring force, gouged a furrow in the ground, and finally halted after skidding.

Alphonse was in motion instantly.

She materialized behind Amael with superior swiftness, her body sheathed in sparking golden lightning, her sword descending in a streaking, electrified curve.

"Good timing," Amael remarked, sincerely commending.

His sword rose to meet hers.

-BOOOOOM!!!

The clash unleashed a shockwave blending thunder, pressure, and pure lightning, expanding in a tangible orb of ruin. Trees beneath them were wrenched free by the blast alone, ripped from roots and flung tumbling.

Alphonse clenched her jaw, channeling extra power into the lock, aiming to overpower via brute might, but she hesitated upon noticing his spare hand shifting.

Her gaze followed left as the blow arrived from right.

-BAM!

The hit blindsided her utterly, pounding her side and spinning her wildly through the heavens, dazed, vision blurring.

She attempted a hasty recovery, yet Amael seized her abruptly.

His arm encircled her back with unexpected tenderness, bearing her weight, steadying her. For an instant, she sensed its warmth, the reassurance of embrace over assault, and her face heated despite herself as combat briefly vanished from her mind...

Then his other palm pressed softly against her abdomen...

Realization dawned precisely one second tardily.

-BOOOM!!

Mana exploded at intimate range. Alphonse hacked fiercely, crimson spurting from her mouth, launched hurtling backward on a perilous path—

Straight toward Lisandra, who had propelled herself upward into battle anew.

"Wha—!"

Lisandra scarcely registered the peril before Alphonse collided at maximum velocity. They entwined chaotically mid-flight—arms, blades, garments merging into a jumbled heap—and plunged downward.

-BOOOM!!

They struck the terrain together with ferocious impact, hollowing the ground and hurling aloft a shroud of dust and fragments that veiled the scene momentarily.

As dust gradually cleared, two moaning forms emerged within the fresh depression.

"Damn it, Syl!" Lisandra’s irritated voice broke first. She levered up on elbows, one palm rising to her face amid blood trickling from her nostril. "You hurt me!"

"You were the one in my trajectory," Alphonse retorted dryly, though her pained grunt diluted the retort. She gingerly touched her belly where Amael’s hit had struck, flinching at the pressure.

She’d dropped vigilance.

A novice error, if profoundly mortifying.

Amael drifted down from overhead, alighting softly at the pit’s rim, peering at them with a mix of pity and profound mirth.

"Well," he stated, draping his sword over his shoulders, "that was yet another pathetically poor display from the famed Queens of the Second Holy War."

Both ladies scowled upward, though Alphonse’s scowl faltered amid the flush creeping over her cheeks, shame blending with the residual feel of capture followed by merciless betrayal.

"This is your fault, Alphonse!" Lisandra jabbed a blaming finger, tone escalating. "If you hadn’t frozen and blushed like some...! Had you stayed focused, we might’ve claimed that round!"

"You’re the absolute last one to lecture on concentration!" Alphonse’s pitch matched Lisandra’s unusually, noteworthy in itself. She rose fully, confronting her squarely. "Know how often he’s derailed you with a charming word or soft caress, then pounced while you processed?!"

Lisandra’s visage crimsoned. "That’s... entirely different!"

"It’s identical!" Alphonse countered. "He pulls it on you more since it succeeds every time, Lisa!"

"It doesn’t—"

"Yesterday he swept hair from your face and you stalled three seconds flat!"

"I was...! Wind in my eye!"

"No wind existed."

Lisandra parted her lips. Shut them and swiftly averted gaze.

"Done bickering?" Amael inquired from the crater’s brink.

"And you!" Lisandra fired a glower.

"Me?" Amael blinked with broad, guileless silver eyes, embodying bewildered purity.

Which intensified the irritation.

He grasped his tactics perfectly. Far from dim. Yet he perpetually enacted this irksome pretense of bewilderment when they challenged him. Neither she nor Alphonse neared readiness to confess his ploys’ effects and reasons for unsettling them. That equated surrender, and pride forbade such disgrace.

Thus, reluctantly, nearly snarling, Lisandra dropped her hand silently.

"I think today’s sufficient," Amael declared, glancing over the surrounding ruin with faint worry. Fallen trees, charred soil, their current pit—the toll was substantial. "You’ve splendidly wrecked this forest patch." Then, softer, nearly muttered with a faint grin: "Fortunately, Xenithia’s nature heals extraordinarily swiftly..."

Both nodded grudgingly, departing wordlessly together.

Three years forged their ritual. Post-training led to the lake, a stunning, isolated haven near their mountain dwelling for cleansing battle’s grime, blood, and fatigue.

Upon arrival, the lake gleamed in flawless splendor—azure depths mirroring heavens, encircled by unique flora unmatched worldwide. Odd deer-resembling beasts and giant hares sipped tranquilly at the edge. Sensing Lisandra and Alphonse, they withdrew politely, observing cautiously yet calmly.

Such stark contrast to their initial visit three years prior. Then, every local creature assaulted on sight, deeming them invaders, dangers, quarry. Adaptation proved brutal, savage, at times harrowing.

Yet after three years battling, demonstrating might, claiming rank in this feral domain... the wildlife comprehended. These two demanded respect.

"I can’t believe him!" Lisandra vented vaguely while yanking off training garb with brusque, vexed tugs. She discarded them and strode into the water—eschewing caution, diving ahead until afloat, liquid lapping just over her bust. "See that, Alphonse?! Feigning innocence while knowing precisely his game!"

Alphonse proceeded deliberately. She shed attire systematically, stacked despite filth, then glided into the lake gracefully.

"Hardly shocking anymore," she murmured, advancing to deeper waters beside Lisandra.

"Doesn’t it bother you?" Lisandra queried, facing her. "A bit at least?"

"Regarding what exactly?" Alphonse responded evenly.

Lisandra winced faintly, seeking phrasing. Then bluntly: "I mean... you love him, right?"

"L—Lisa..." Alphonse’s eyes jerked up, color surging despite chill waters.

Lisandra smirked at the flush, satisfied. "No need for such shame."

"You blush far worse admitting it," Alphonse riposted.

"I’d confess readily," Lisandra boasted untruly.

"Before Mael?"

"...Never."

"Precisely." Alphonse shrugged, a subtle smile flickering.

Lisandra huffed indignantly. "Not until he confesses first! He likes us for sure—no doubt whatsoever, right? We’re both—" she waved at herself then Alphonse emphatically— "stunningly gorgeous, objectively? Your view?"

She neared, eyeing Alphonse gravely.

"I... unsure?" Alphonse answered cautiously. "Men stared, but unclear if looks or my kingship. Situations obscure judgment."

"Men ogled me plenty," Lisandra declared, arching her chest to splash water into Alphonse’s features, "not merely for princess status!"

"Yes," Alphonse affirmed, clearing droplets patiently, eyeing Lisandra’s prominent cleavage dryly. "Assuredly not."

Yet amid banter, Alphonse sobered. She understood Amael deeper. No superficiality. Looks might factor, never decisively. His affections ran profounder.

"He adores that woman, though," she whispered pensively. "Ephera. Perhaps he simply doesn’t see us so."

Lisandra’s look shifted rapidly.

True enough. Often Lisandra teased Amael flirtatiously, probing sentiments, nudging queries on budding affections.

Responses invariably named two women.

First: his mother. Uneasy topic, best ignored.

Second: Ephera.

Ephera, unmistakably his soulmate. Mentioning her transformed him. A true, open, tender smile emerged rarely elsewhere. He grinned at them genuinely too. Yet hers struck deeper, primal.

Three years revealed all. Her transformative impact. Her beauty beyond words, inner and outer. Her wonder, compassion, empathy. Her otherworldly origin, fantastical yet factual in his tone.

Her location intricate, tied to enigmas they half-grasped, but he vowed reunion.

And then...

What of them?

The notion weighed heavily in Lisandra’s heart. She submerged deeper, only eyes and crown above, face concealed.

He wouldn’t abandon them upon Ephera’s return, would he?

Alphonse observed Lisandra submerge, mirroring inner turmoil. Equally adrift, pondering silently more frequently now.

Truth stark, unwelcome: Amael rescued them. Granted rebirth amid ashes of former lives. Since Xenithia, unalloyed joy daily, unprecedented amid past obligations.

Holy War concluded as foretold. Continent peaceful. Freedom theirs.

For secluded royals enduring clumsy courtly advances for gain... Amael captivated swiftly, enchantingly. Utterly unlike them all.

Thus losing him to his true love loomed dreadfully.

Ensnared in reverie, silence reigned.

Until—

-BOOOOOM!!!

The blast colossal, air-shaking roar, shock rippling waterborne. Nearby fowl burst skyward, briefly eclipsing light.

"What was that?!" Lisandra bolted upright.

Alphonse hastened shoreward, staring toward their distant mountain home.

Thence the noise originated.