I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 775: [The Rewritten Lost Past] [15]

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Previously on I Am The Game's Villain...
Michael continues his intense training of Amael, the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar. Despite Amael's desperate efforts and a brief moment where he surprises Michael with his own techniques, Michael bests him. Nihil intervenes, ending the training, and a tense exchange follows between Nihil, his ex-wife Belle, and Amael, revealing their complex family dynamics. The confrontation escalates when A-Nihil arrives and argues with Belle, only to be stopped by Nihil, after which she leaves, upset.
"Blood Moon War?" Amael echoed the query. Michael offered a smile. "Your innocent expression doesn't suit you, don't look at me that way," he stated, tilting his head slightly. "I'm quite sure you've caught wind of the happenings in Sancta Vedelia." "Not at all," Amael responded, his face a mask of perfect indifference. "However, I'd be genuinely fascinated to learn what transpired there." The smile vanished from Michael's face. "One of Merithra's creations has initiated a conflict," he revealed. Amael's eyebrow arched. "Could Princess Merithra herself be orchestrating this? I hadn't considered she held Sancta Vedelia in such high regard, even with her involvement in its establishment." "Most unlikely," Michael replied, his tone taking on a sharper edge. "Yet, she remains unwilling to intervene and undo what she has unleashed. Presently, Sancta Vedelia is ensnared by the Blood Moon Spell, a forbidden incantation of her own design. The entire island is suffering under its influence." Amael met his gaze, his expression unperturbed. "Then tell me, why share this with me? Shouldn't you be petitioning Princess Merithra directly?" "She is beyond reach," Michael declared, a hint of irritation coloring his voice. "As always. Concealed somewhere, pursuing her own desires, utterly indifferent to the chaos she leaves behind." "Surely one of her sisters could locate her," Amael suggested, maintaining a light, casual tone as he subtly maneuvered to distance himself from whatever scheme Michael was concocting. Michael's eyes immediately narrowed. "You suggest we summon Raphiel for such a matter?" "The thought of calling upon the Supreme Goddess of Eden herself is beyond my wildest imaginings," Amael conceded, a faint smile gracing his lips. "But from my understanding, Merithra has other sisters. Other Khaos Princesses who might be inclined to offer assistance." Michael scoffed dismissively, a slow, contemptuous sound. "It's irrelevant. The Gods do not meddle in the trifling conflicts of mortals." "With all due respect," Amael countered, "I would argue this has escalated beyond mere squabbles. As you yourself stated, a Forbidden Spell has been cast by Merithra. That does not sound like a situation that resolves itself." "It is not Merithra's original spell in its complete form," Michael corrected. "A derivative. A replica. The effect is contained, affecting only Sancta Vedelia." Only, Amael mused inwardly, maintaining a facade of neutrality. He was fully aware of Sancta Vedelia's true nature. Far from being a mere island, it was a continent in its own right, immense and densely populated, its reach exceeding that of most kingdoms. The notion of a single spell engulfing its entirety, shrouding it beneath a malevolent moon, sent an unsettling chill down his spine. And the individual capable of replicating such a feat, even imperfectly, was undoubtedly no ordinary being. "I perceive you grasp the severity of the situation," Michael stated, observing Amael with quiet satisfaction. "Excellent. Because you are going to participate in that war." "Absolutely not," Amael declared, already turning to depart. "You will," Michael insisted. "Anox is present." Amael halted. "You mean Nox's associate?" he inquired, not turning around. "Her son," Michael corrected. "Sirius Anox." Amael pivoted slowly, a flicker of disbelief momentarily crossing his face. "One of Lucifer Morningstar's Generals is there, and your plan is to cast me into the heart of that conflict?" "That is precisely the objective," Michael confirmed, a hint of exultation in his composed voice. "Your presence could draw A-Nox herself out. She poses a significant danger, a threat we have struggled to contain. This presents our most promising opportunity to finally neutralize her." He appeared genuinely pleased with his strategic brilliance, as if he had just conceived the ultimate maneuver in the annals of divine warfare. Amael regarded him for a considerable moment. Then, a smile touched his lips, and he carefully mouthed each word, ensuring Michael could read his lips. "That will not be happening, Lord Michael." With a decisive turn, he walked away. "Are you truly that fearful?" Michael's voice rose in volume as he called after him. "Pathetic. Utterly pathetic, especially for the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar. And you still expect my tutelage?" "I requested your guidance," Amael replied without altering his pace, "not to be utilized as mere bait to lure out one of the most malevolent primordial Guardian Goddesses." "Do you believe we would simply abandon you to perish there?" Amael paused briefly, casting a glance over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Your apparent protectiveness is almost touching," he remarked, his voice laden with sarcasm. "Truly. It's quite moving." "You are a coward, Amael," Michael stated, his voice chilling. "A profound disappointment, I must say, considering you are Nihil's son."

Amael halted. He turned his body slowly, and as his eyes met Michael’s, the weariness within them was supplanted by a newfound hardness.

"Why not employ yourself as the lure then?" Amael questioned. "Proceed, draw A-Nox out on your own." He allowed that suggestion to linger for a moment before inclining his head. "Oh, but wait. Neither A-Nox nor Lucifer holds you in enough regard to manifest." A thin smile touched his lips. "In that specific scenario, I would propose Princess Raphiel. A Khaos Princess would surely make for exceptional bait; I imagine that would provoke a reaction."

Michael's gaze grew darker, his carefully maintained composure fraying at the edges. "Do you court death?"

"That is precisely the core of it!" Amael retorted sharply. "I do not! My desire is to persist. That is all. If harboring the wish to remain alive designates me a coward in your estimation, then I shall proudly bear that title for all my remaining days."

He held Michael's stare for a final second, ensuring his words had struck home, then turned and departed. He didn't accelerate his pace, nor did he cast a glance backward.

Behind him, Michael observed Amael's retreating form in profound silence. The chill that had settled in his expression gradually transformed into something far more disquieting than mere anger. A smile began to trace its way across his lips.

"So be it," he murmured softly, to no one in particular. "You leave me with no other recourse."

***

The heavens above stretched out, a vast expanse of pale light. Amael traversed this airy domain on his return journey to Xenithia, the wind biting sharply against his countenance. Suddenly, he ceased his flight, hanging suspended in mid-air, and pivoted with a faint smile already beginning to form.

A bird, rendered in gleaming silver, approached through the drifting clouds.

It was sleek and immense.

A falcon, its feathers shimmering like polished moonstone, its keen eyes missing nothing.

"I had begun to surmise you might not arrive for some time yet, grandfather," Amael commented.

The falcon decelerated its flight, gliding with effortless grace to halt in the air beside him. Horus regarded Amael with his striking silver eyes. "And I doubted that your summons was entirely without purpose," he responded.

Amael ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Well... perhaps not entirely without purpose. I merely wished to converse."

A brief, warm burst of laughter emanated from the falcon.

"Years have elapsed," Horus stated, "and you truly have not altered in the slightest, have you, grandson?"

"What did you anticipate?" Amael replied quietly, a subtle shift occurring in the lightness of his tone. "The individual purported to be my father is not one I can entrust with anything significant. And I shall not burden my mother with this matter." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon rather than meeting Horus's. "You are the sole confidant to whom I can truly unburden myself regarding this."

It had invariably been this way. Long before Amael had matured into his present self, even as a child, it was Horus to whom he turned when the burdens became overwhelming, Horus who had kept watch over him from his very first breath. Not Nihil, with his icy detachment and divine responsibilities. Not anyone else.

Horus represented the paternal figure Amael had never been afforded.

"Relate to me that which troubles you," Horus said simply.

Amael remained silent for a moment.

"I cannot precisely articulate it," he finally admitted, uncertainty flickering across his features. "Merely a persistent premonition, an unshakeable feeling that something is on the verge of going terribly awry, and I am currently unable to perceive it."

"Does this concern Michael?"

"Perhaps. Most likely." He let out a sigh. "I am uncertain. But whatever the nature of this impending event, and regardless of who may be involved, my paramount concern is the safety of my mother. And the girls. That is the only certainty I possess."

Horus was silent for a beat. "You bestowed one of my eyes upon one of those girls," he remarked.

"I am aware." Amael offered a rueful smile. "My apologies for that, gramps."

"I granted them for your protection."

"I am cognizant of that fact as well." Amael directed a glance at Horus, his smile softening into a more genuine expression. "I intend to entrust the other one to Sylvia."

Another lengthy silence ensued as the falcon regarded him intently.

"Why?" he inquired at last.

Amael did not falter in his response. "Because I love her," he avowed, a sincere smile gracing his lips. "I cherish both of them. And my deepest aspiration, that which I have perpetually yearned for, is to truly experience life. Not merely to endure it. To live, alongside them, in a meaningful way." He paused, a shadow of somberness momentarily crossing his features. "However, should misfortune befall me before I attain that reality... I wish for them to remain safeguarded." He looked directly at Horus, and for a fleeting instant, he appeared younger than his years. "What safeguard could be more potent than the eyes of my grandfather?"

Horus met his gaze for an extended period. The silver falcon remained uncharacteristically silent, but a subtle transformation occurred within those ancient eyes, hinting at a mixture of sorrow and pride.

"If such is your desire," Horus stated in conclusion.

"That is correct," Amael affirmed. "However, Grandfather, I am the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar. That name attracts peril as surely as flames draw moths, and I have come to terms with that reality." He met the silver falcon's steady gaze. "I will never forgive myself if something unfortunate befalls my mother or them due to what I bear within me. You understand this." He held the gaze with utmost seriousness. "Pledge to me. Promise me that you will keep them all safe."

Horus settled into a profound silence.

Then, unfurling his magnificent silver wings, he ascended without a word, climbing higher until his form became a mere speck against the pale heavens, ultimately vanishing into the white expanse.

Amael observed his departure.

He did not call out to him.

He simply watched for a time.

Eventually, he turned away, his eyes drawn to the distant edge of the horizon. Somewhere beyond the visible realm, past the layered skies, Sancta Vedelia was presently ensnared by the Blood Moon Spell. He could not perceive it from this vantage point.

Yet, he could sense it.

His hands gradually clenched at his sides.

"Sirius," he whispered under his breath, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "...Damn it all."