I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 776: [The Rewritten Lost Past] [16]

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Previously on I Am The Game's Villain...
Michael reveals that Sancta Vedelia is under a forbidden Blood Moon Spell, a copy of Merithra's work, and that Sirius Anox, son of A-Nox, is there. Michael tries to force Amael to join the war to draw out A-Nox, but Amael refuses and leaves. Amael then meets with his grandfather, Horus, and expresses his deep-seated fears about an impending disaster and his desire to protect his mother and the girls, asking Horus to keep them safe should anything happen to him.
Decades had passed since then... The Falkrona Estate was situated on its island like a realm unto itself, its ancient stone structures brushed by salty air and the gentle rhythm of the sea. Within its walls, Belle Falkrona’s chambers offered the warmest sanctuary. Soft lamplight illuminated the space, carrying a subtle floral aroma, and bookshelves displayed volumes that bore the marks of frequent reading and affection, not mere decoration. Belle herself was not present that particular evening. However, her son was. He was seven years old at the time. He sat in the middle of the expansive bed, the same one he had occupied since infancy, curled against his mother’s side in her embrace, a book resting open upon his knees. Amael was not a fearful child, not precisely. Yet, the nights tormented him in ways unrelated to mere darkness. A peculiar pain would visit him in his sleep, distinct from the common discomforts of childhood; it was something more profound, a sensation that seemed to claw at the interior of his skull, jolting him awake gasping and trembling. The healers were baffled, unable to ascribe a name to his affliction. Only his mother’s presence could mitigate it, her gentle hand at the nape of his neck, her soothing voice until his breathing evened and the distress behind his eyes subsided. But tonight, his mother had not yet returned, leaving Amael to his reading. The chamber door creaked open. He did not look up immediately, allowing his eyes to finish the current sentence on the page. It was not Belle. The figure standing in the doorway was a young man. He had brown hair and green eyes. Charles Dolphis. He had recently arrived at the Estate with a delegation of nobles from Sancta Vedelia, his family being one of the most distinguished houses welcomed within the gates. He held the position of Crown Prince of House Dolphis. There was absolutely no justifiable reason for him to be within the private quarters of Belle Falkrona at such a late hour. Nevertheless, he did not appear disoriented. His gaze swept the room, and upon finding the small boy alone on the large bed, a subtle shift occurred in his demeanor before he fully entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him. "Are you here to kill me?" Amael inquired. Charles froze. He turned towards the boy with deliberate slowness. "Why would you think that?" Amael turned a page. "You arrived here at night," he stated. "Perhaps you intended to act against my mother, but you would find yourself unable to touch her regardless, so that seems improbable. She is not present, yet you entered anyway, upon seeing me alone." He briefly flicked his eyes upward. "Therefore, I assumed you came for me." "I may have intended to speak with you," Charles responded. Amael studied him for a moment before softly closing the book. "Then speak." Charles’s eyes scanned the room once more before returning to the child. "Do you always sleep here?" "Always," Amael confirmed. "I spend the majority of my time within this room." "Why?" "I am not like the others." He stated this plainly, without a trace of self-pity. "I do not get along well with my mother’s siblings or their children." "Why not?" Amael contemplated the question for a brief period. "My mother’s father is a God," he finally replied. "They perceive us as different. Mother says they harbor resentment, envy towards us. Perhaps they are envious. I do not fully grasp it yet, but I comprehend enough." Charles moved closer. "Do you understand what you are?" "The Vessel of Samael Eveningstar," Amael answered without hesitation. "Do you comprehend the implications of that?" Amael looked up at him directly for the first time, pausing thoughtfully. "Are you here to end my life because of what I am?" "Slaying a Vessel does little to halt the cycle," Charles replied. "Once deceased, they are reborn repeatedly until their destined purpose is fulfilled. You are aware of this." "But I am not an ordinary Vessel," Amael asserted. "My father is Nihil. The Guardian God. This fact renders me somewhat more complex than those who preceded me, does it not?" "Your lineage is... problematic," Charles acknowledged with a quiet nod. He had now reached the bedside and stood over the boy, gazing down at him with an expression that was difficult to interpret. "What is your name?" Amael asked, tilting his head back to meet his gaze. The man remained silent for a short while. "Most refer to me as Anox," he said. "Others call me Sirius." Amael's brow furrowed slightly. "Anox, like the Guardian Goddess?" Sirius offered a single nod. "She betrayed Eden," Amael stated, observing him intently. "She is known as an Evil Goddess." He paused. "Then you are aligned with her. That would explain your presence here. Have you come to kill me or to take me?" Sirius looked at him before averting his gaze. "I do not even know why I am here," he confessed finally. "I do not even know what I am doing anymore." "Do you feel lost?" Amael inquired. There was no trace of mockery in his voice, no underlying sarcasm. He was simply asking.

Sirius let out a slow breath. "That," he stated, "is an excellent way to put it." A brief silence followed. "I had hoped that the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar might provide some clarity, perhaps enlighten me on what path to take next, for our objectives."

"When you speak of objectives," Amael interjected, "you are referring to Lucifer’s ambitions. His aim is to seize Eden’s domain, and your involvement is in aiding him with this endeavor."

"Eden has inflicted immense suffering upon this realm," Sirius countered.

"So, this is an act of retribution?" Amael tilted his head, curiosity evident. "Retaliation through what precise means?" He paused, then shifted his stance. "And how is it that you possess the ability to transition between different bodies so readily?"

Sirius averted his gaze, a flicker of something distant crossing his eyes. "It requires little effort. Mortal vessels are ephemeral, easily inhabited and just as easily abandoned. For the past five centuries, I have drifted from one to another, traversing Sancta Vedelia, witnessing each life extinguish after a mere few decades." A tone of hollow disdain laced his voice. "So fragile. So brittle. I've often pondered whether Eden genuinely intends to utilize them as combatants, or if they merely serve as... adornments. Pawns in a grander scheme."

"And yet," Amael remarked softly, "you remained within that particular domain for centuries, under A-Nox’s command." He met Sirius's eyes directly, without hesitation. "This suggests those lives held significance, did they not? The very lives you just characterized as weak."

Sirius looked down at the boy.

"I should have foreseen this complication," he murmured, almost to himself, "but you are no ordinary child, are you."

Amael offered no direct response. "You harbor doubts about her," he stated instead. "A-Nox. Even now, standing before the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar, presented with an opportunity that many would grasp without a second thought, you hesitate." His silver eyes remained fixed on Sirius's face. "Five hundred years spent amongst those fragile mortal lives have left their mark on you. They've altered your perspective, making you question your mother's true intentions behind all of this and your own ultimate fate should you succeed."

Sirius's gaze intensified. "What do you believe would transpire if I were to seize you this very moment?"

The boy was far too insightful.

Unsuitably perceptive for a child of merely seven years.

"My mother would vanquish you," Amael replied with simple certainty.

"You are convinced she possesses the power to stop me?"

"Your current corporeal form lacks the strength to contend with my mother," Amael explained. "And should you attempt any further action, my grandfather would complete the task she initiated. Furthermore, if by some improbable chance – which will not occur – you managed to overcome both of them, my father would never extend forgiveness."

Sirius regarded him for a prolonged silence. Then, defying what seemed to be his own intent, a brief chuckle escaped him. "What a remarkably bothersome family dynamic." He shook his head slightly, and an unbidden softening crept into his tone. "I must admit, I find myself a touch envious."

"Why did you dedicate all these years to Sancta Vedelia?" Amael inquired. "All those centuries. What was the ultimate objective?"

"Infiltration. Subtle manipulation of its foundations from within. Eventual conquest, securing the land and the Tree for Lucifer. It represents a strategic strike against Eden’s machinations, executed from the inside." He stated this plainly, devoid of any boastfulness.

"You experience a sense of emptiness," Amael observed.

Sirius blinked.

The words struck an unexpected chord.

Amael descended from the bed. He took a few steps across the floor, not towards Sirius, but into the quiet expanse of the room, and placed a small hand against his chest. "Living without purpose, I understand that sensation. I too have felt it. In my previous existence, I lost everyone. Everything. And that void it created, I still perceive it at times. Right here."

Sirius observed him intently, a subtle furrow appearing between his brows. He found himself contemplating, without conscious volition, whether the boy was referring to Samael’s past life when he spoke of a previous existence.

"But then I discovered Ephera," Amael continued, letting his hand drop to his side. "And that emptiness, while not entirely vanishing, became manageable. She filled it. My companions also contributed, in their own unique ways." He turned, fixing Sirius with a direct look. "You simply require something worth striving for. Something that gives your life meaning. Once you find that, the burden of everything else becomes considerably lighter."

"Where is this Ephera now?" Sirius inquired.

Amael’s expression darkened considerably. "Deceased," he stated. "But not permanently. My father gave me his word. I shall reunite with her. I must."

"Love," Sirius remarked, a faint scoff escaping him. "Love is precisely why Samael initiated hostilities against Eden to begin with. It is the genesis of all conflict, all destruction. I would prefer not to pursue such sentiments."

"You have already," Amael stated, his gaze upon Sirius both steady and serious. "Your mother was the reason you endured centuries of solitude in that place, correct? Severed from all connections. You dedicated yourself to that for her."

Sirius offered a smile upon hearing this.

"You might be correct," he responded.

"However, love is more fulfilling when reciprocated," Amael added, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "And your mother will never possess the same affection for you that my mother has for me."

Sirius directed a flat, unimpressed look at him. "I am genuinely contemplating your demise."

"I'm merely stating facts," Amael replied with an unbothered shrug. "A-Nox is not worthy of the sacrifices you've made for her. Not by a long shot."

"You know," Sirius remarked after a pause, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you've been deliberately prolonging this conversation." A hint of what might be admiration flickered across his face. "You have successfully purchased yourself significant time until your mother's return. A clever maneuver."

"That was my initial intention," Amael confessed without a trace of shame. "But my curiosity about you grew." He tilted his head. "What if you were to conquer Sancta Vedelia for your own sake? Not for Lucifer's ambition, nor your mother's objectives. For yourself."

Sirius blinked. "For myself? What would that achieve for me?"

"Perhaps your mother's acknowledgment," Amael suggested.

Sirius regarded him intently. "Did you not just assert that pursuing her approval was a futile endeavor?"

"You can still desire her recognition," Amael stated plainly, "while also acting for your own benefit. The two are not mutually exclusive."

Sirius fell silent. The logic presented struck a chord he hadn't anticipated.

"There is nothing of value to conquer in Sancta Vedelia," he vocalized after a moment, though his conviction wavered. "Nothing there holds any significance for me."

"Nothing at all?" Amael raised an eyebrow. "No elements of interest?"

Sirius paused. His gaze shifted, losing focus, and for an instant, he was no longer present in the room.

His thoughts turned to her.

The Vampire Witch, who persisted in rebirth only to face solitary suffering and demise, inhabiting one borrowed form after another, each existence crumbling internally like a structure built upon shifting sands. He had observed her for an extended period. Longer than he had observed most beings. She was distinct from the other inhabitants of Sancta Vedelia, and even from himself.

Did Merithra dispatch her there with a specific objective? Was there ever a grand design, or was she merely cast into that realm and subsequently forgotten?

He could not provide an answer. He never had been able to.

Yet, the original witch, the essence underlying all those fragmented vessels, persisted. Still breathing, still aflame, still anticipating a promised salvation that might never materialize. In the void of that anticipation, she transmuted her waiting into vengeance, and her vengeance into destruction, laying waste to all around her. Without retribution, she possessed nothing – no anchor, no guiding principle, only the hollow echo of an uncertain future.

Sirius harbored a peculiar form of admiration for her. Her fortitude was almost beyond comprehension.

She possessed something to cling to.

What did he possess?

The question had never presented itself with such stark clarity before. He had never contemplated engaging the Vampire Witch, observing her from afar as one observes a tempest through a pane of glass.

Yet, here, within a child's lamplit chamber, inhabiting an unfamiliar body, a new sensation emerged. An inclination unfelt for centuries, a simple, unburdened curiosity. He desired to comprehend her. To ascertain what she was truly awaiting.

The thought was still coalescing when the ambient temperature of the room shifted abruptly.

"What are you doing in my room?"

The voice was exquisitely sweet.

Utterly, chillingly sweet.

A shiver coursed down Sirius's spine before he even registered the subtle sounds of movement, and he barely managed to turn before his face met the floor.

-BAM!

Belle's knee embedded into his back, immobilizing him with a force that belied her physical stature. Her silver eyes peered down at him from above.

"Did you touch my son?"

"What...?" Sirius clenched his hands, instinctively reaching for his spiritual energy, only to feel it dissipate at an alarming rate, rendering his entire body numb.

"I inquired about something," Belle stated, intensifying the pressure of her knee into his spine.

-Crack!

The sound was diminutive. The agony, however, was substantial. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped his throat as something within his back yielded.

"Mommy—" Amael materialized at the periphery of his vision, his expression a complex blend of concern and apprehension. "I believe you may be causing him harm."

"Are you alright, my sweetie?" Belle reshaped her entire demeanor in an instant, her voice now brimming with tenderness, her eyes finding her son with a shimmer of tears. "I am so sorry for my delay; I was entangled with that insignificant pest Aniha. Mark my words, I will be rid of her one day, I give you my solemn promise."

"I’m fine," Amael replied. "But he didn’t, he didn’t really hurt me. I think."

"He is dangerous, my love. I shall conclude this swiftly, I give you my word." A smile, soft and radiant yet deeply unhinged, graced her lips as she looked at him. "Go back to your slumber and count to ten for me, won’t you?"

Amael cast one final glance at Sirius, who was pressed flat against the cold floor, then quietly turned away. He climbed back into the bed and drew the blanket up to his chin.

"One... two... three..."

"I have no intention of harming him!" Sirius’s voice snapped from the floor, his struggles against her grip proving utterly useless.

"Yet, you came," Belle retorted, her voice turning to ice once more. "And that, my dear Sirius, is more than enough."

"That’s not—"

"Everything has been heard," she stated. Tilting her chin towards the headboard of the bed, she indicated a tiny silver falcon perched immovably on the carved wood, its bright, patient eyes observing everything. "I always position one of my avian companions to watch over him. Without fail."

Sirius’s gaze met the minuscule bird’s, and he found himself utterly speechless.

"You dared to enter my son’s private chamber alone," Belle continued, her grip on the back of his skull intensifying, her fingers digging in as if contemplating the act of breaking something precious. "Does that wretched A-Nox harbor a death wish? Does she actively invite my retribution upon herself?"

"Nothing happened—ughh!!"

A muffled groan escaped him, cutting short his own words as her fingers tightened their hold, the pressure relentlessly increasing.

"And you believe that statement will offer me solace? You stood beside my son and regaled him with your sorrowful, pathetic little tale. Now, he must bear its weight. He will hold onto it. He will ruminate on your plight." Her eyes narrowed with stark disgust. "You have occupied precious space within my boy’s mind that rightfully did not belong to you. Are you truly pleased with this outcome?"

"You are utterly delusional—"

-Crack!

-Spurt!

She extinguished his life before the final syllable could even leave his lips.

The subsequent, definitive snap of his neck followed a mere half-second later, a chilling punctuation to the silence.

"...Ten."

Amael’s count concluded, echoing into the sudden quiet. Belle rose, dusting off her hands as if they had held nothing offensive, and turned towards the bed with a smile that belonged to an entirely different woman than the one who had moments before been kneeling on a man’s shattered spine.

"All finished, my darling!" She traversed the room with rapid strides, scooped him into her arms, and planted a kiss upon each of his cheeks. "Were you frightened, my treasure?"

"No," Amael answered truthfully. His gaze drifted past her shoulder to the crumpled form on the floor. "...is he dead?"

"Mm. For the present moment," Belle confirmed nonchalantly, balancing him easily on her hip. "That particular vermin shall undoubtedly find a new vessel soon enough. Should he possess the poor judgment to reappear, I shall claim that one too, as many times as he desires. Or," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a fingertip, "perhaps it would be more effective to permit him to retain his next host and merely prolong his existence sufficiently to persuade him to relinquish his pursuit."

"I believe he is rather pitiful," Amael remarked softly, his arms encircling her neck.

Belle’s expression softened almost imperceptibly at the edges. "He will be far more deserving of pity once my task with him is complete, my precious boy."

Amael drew back just enough to meet her gaze.

He recognized that particular smile. He had witnessed it before, albeit infrequently, yet quite enough to understand its significance. It was the smile she adopted when her mind was irrevocably made up, and she was merely allowing the rest of the world the time to align with her unshakeable decision.

She was going to Sancta Vedelia.

She was going to find him.

"Mother," Amael began, his tone carefully measured. "Could you perhaps… spare him?"

Belle’s eyes widened slightly. "...sweetie?"

He held her gaze steadily. "Please."

For a fleeting instant, a raw vulnerability flickered behind her eyes, an emotion overwhelmed and utterly defenseless against him. Her arms tightened around him, drawing him closer, and she briefly buried her face against the side of his head.

"You are simply too perfect," she whispered, tears welling. "My sweet, flawless boy. To plead for the life of the man who intruded upon your sanctuary in the dead of night." She pulled back just enough to gaze upon his face, her eyes shining. "Precisely as I would expect from my son. Truly exceptional."

Amael allowed her to hold him, silently resting his chin on her shoulder, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

A beautiful mother and son interaction, a heartwarming scene, if not for the deceased individual with a crushed head lying on the ground...