I Am The Game's Villain

"The Holy Church... stained in blood, death, and treachery."

The words fell from Francis Higer Eden’s lips, the Holy Pope.

He stood motionless in the center of the grand hall, his white papal robes marred with streaks of crimson. Some of it was his own. Most of it wasn’t. In his right hand, he gripped the Ferula Celesta, the golden papal staff, one of the great relics of Eden, its ornate cross glinting faintly in the flickering candlelight.

His slit-like eyes opened slowly, revealing irises of pale yellow that gleamed slightly.

Around him, the aftermath of chaos sprawled like the remnants of a nightmare.

Blood pooled in the grooves between floor tiles. Bodies, some draped in ceremonial cloth, others in armor lay scattered where they’d fallen.

Sergius.

One of the most trusted was at the center of this carnage.

Not just him. Others too. They’d revealed their true colors in blood and fire, attempting to assassinate the Saintess candidates after their cover had fell.

Thankfully, they’d failed.

Sergius had been captured though he didn’t stay long alive.

But so some had died defending the church.

"How naive have I been," Francis mumbled. He shook his head slowly. "I raised him... raised them... as my sons."

"That is not your fault, Francis."

Geoffrey Higer Eden said, his robes as a Headmaster now dusted with ash and blood as well. He’d just returned from escorting Edward Falkrona back to the academy dormitory after the boy had—miraculously, inexplicably—protected the Saintess candidates and exposed Sergius.

"Do you think..." Francis began quietly, still staring at the blood-stained floor. "Do you think perhaps he was responsible for Fabian’s disappearance three years ago?"

Geoffrey’s expression turned hard.

Fabian.

His eldest son.

A brilliant and kind man.

Three years ago, he’d vanished without a trace.

No body.

No note.

Just... gone.

Geoffrey had searched. He’d torn through the kingdom, called in every favor, interrogated every lead. Nothing. It was as if his son had been erased from existence.

Deep down, Geoffrey knew. If Fabian hadn’t returned by now, he was dead.

The only question was: who killed him?

"Perhaps," Geoffrey said slowly. "We will know once we interrogate Sergius. He could also be involved in Edmund’s and Agatha’s deaths." He added talking about his other adopted son and also Seraphina’s parents who died five years ago, assassinated by Caishen but clearly under someone’s orders.

Francis’s expression darkened.

"Unfortunately not," he said.

Geoffrey’s brow lifted slightly.

"I don’t know what kind of spell Ante Eden placed on him," Francis continued, "but Sergius died before he could speak a single word. The moment we tried to question him, the spell activated. His heart stopped. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth. He was gone in seconds."

Geoffrey’s expression hardened, his yellow eyes flashing with cold anger.

"These people really don’t have any respect for life," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides. "Going so far as to kill children... targeting innocents just to spread their poison."

His mind flashed to his granddaughter—barely fourteen years old—who had been one of the main targets of tonight’s attack.

"We shall not let them put their hands on our Holy lands, Geoffrey," Francis said, turning to face him fully now. "We will root them out. Every last one."

Geoffrey nodded.

"You should be more careful moving forward," Geoffrey said. "More of them could be infiltrated within the church. You need to be stricter. More vigilant. Especially with Maria’s, Seraphina’s, and Helena’s safety."

He gestured toward the far end of the hall, where Maria and Seraphina stood together, talking in hushed tones. They looked a bit shaken but alive.

"All three of them need to be kept under constant guard," Geoffrey continued. "They’re still young, but we can’t afford to let anything happen to them. Restrict their freedom if necessary. No trips outside the cathedral grounds. No unsupervised activities. Not until we’re certain it’s safe. Until the Saintess is officially chosen, we have to assume they’re all still targets."

Francis nodded slowly.

"How are they doing?" Geoffrey asked, his tone softening slightly.

"They’re shaken by the attack," Francis said, glancing back toward the girls. "But they’re doing better than I expected. Stronger than most would be in their position."

He paused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"It seems that boy really did protect them."

"He did," Geoffrey confirmed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He was definitely feeling indebted to the young man. He wouldn’t have supported losing one of his granddaughters.

Francis turned back to Geoffrey, his yellow eyes sharpening a bit.

"How did he learn about Sergius, Geoffrey?" He asked suddenly. "Does he know more? Are there other traitors we should be aware of? We should interrogate him if necessary for the safety of our lands, our people."

Geoffrey considered the question carefully.

"He does seem to know things," he said. "Things he shouldn’t. Things no one should be able to know."

He met Francis’s gaze.

"But forcing answers out of him won’t get us anywhere," Geoffrey continued. "And at the very least, we now know for certain that he’s on our side. He risked his life tonight. That counts for something."

Francis looked reluctant.

But Geoffrey wasn’t going to push Edward..

Pushing too hard on him could backfire. The boy was unpredictable. But tonight, he’d proven himself an ally.

For now, that had to be enough.

"Very well," Francis said finally. "But keep a close watch on him, Geoffrey. If he knows more, we’ll need that information eventually."

"I will," Geoffrey promised.

Francis nodded once, then turned and walked away, his bloodied robes trailing behind him as he moved to address his surviving clergy.

Geoffrey watched Francis leave, then sighed heavily. He adjusted his robes, shaking off the lingering gloom of the conversation, and turned toward the back of the hall.

His granddaughters were waiting there.

Maria and Seraphina.

Seeing them alive, safe, breathing, unharmed made the knot in his chest loosen just a little.

"Grandpa!"

Maria moved first. She almost skipped toward him, her hands clasped together, a radiant smile on her face that seemed completely out of place in a bloodstained cathedral.

She certainly recovers very fast from the horror. He expected especially her to be traumatized a bit by the horror they had witnessed and the near death experience but she and Seraphina seemed quite alright.

"Did Lord Edward leave?" Maria asked immediately.

Geoffrey blinked.

Not "Are you okay?" Not "Is the bad man gone?" Not "What happens now?"

Her first question was about the brat.

"I took him back to his dormitory, yes," Geoffrey answered, keeping his tone neutral.

"When will we see him again?" Maria asked, her eyes shining with so much hope and admiration that it was nearly blinding.

Geoffrey’s eyebrow twitched visibly.

"Maria!" Seraphina called, stepping up beside her cousin with a look of utter disbelief. "What are you even asking right now? Do you know where we are?"

"B—But he saved our lives, Sera..." Maria said, her voice dropping to a pouty whisper. "We haven’t even thanked him properly..."

"T—That is..." Seraphina faltered, looking away.

Geoffrey crossed his arms.

"I think both of you thanked him in your own ways," he said dryly, his gaze sliding over to Seraphina. "You certainly did."

Seraphina’s face went from pale to nuclear red in less than a second. Steam nearly erupted from her ears.

"Grandpa!" She shrieked, her composure shattering. "It was an accident! A complete accident! I just—I tripped! I fell on top of him! A-And! My lips just happened to land on his cheek! It wasn’t intentional!"

She was stuttering so hard she sounded like a broken mana car.

Around them, several priests who were cleaning up the debris paused, gasping audibly at the scandalous revelation.

"A kiss?" One whispered.

"The Saintess candidate?" Another murmured.

Seraphina looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Maria, on the other hand, just stared at her sister. Then, slowly, she reached out and grasped her own hand.

"I haven’t thanked him like that..." Maria muttered, sounding genuinely jealous.

"Don’t even think about it, Maria!" Seraphina yelled, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and shaking her frantically. "It was an accident! I didn’t do it to thank him! I didn’t do it because I wanted to! Do you hear me?!"

"But... you seemed happy about it, Sera..." Maria pointed out innocently.

"I wasn’t! I was terrified! Now you have to forget everything that happened! Erase it from your memory! Do you understand?!" Seraphina asked, glaring at her sister with intense seriousness, which was completely undermined by the fact that her entire face was still glowing like a ripe tomato.

"But..." Maria looked down, her own cheeks dusting pink as she fiddled with her fingers. "H—How can I ever forget Lord Edward, Sera..."

She looked up, eyes dreamy.

"He was so cool... and strong... and..."

Seraphina grimaced in response to Maria’s daydreaming already.

Geoffrey stared at them.

He was witnessing something no grandfather ever wants to witness.

The awakening of the ’crush’.

And not just any crush. A crush on Edward Falkrona. The most unpredictable, notoriously difficult boy in the entire academy. And now, apparently, the accidental recipient of his granddaughter’s affection.

His expression hardened.

The gratitude he felt toward Edward for saving them? Gone. Evaporated. Replaced by a cold, protective instinct that every father and grandfather possesses.

Oh, hell no.

He narrowed his yellow eyes.

Yes.

He would make sure that brat didn’t get within ten feet of his granddaughters ever again.

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