I Am The Game's Villain

"You Utopians! I swear, Eden will never forgive you!"

The words rang out quite hate-filled from the Elven Commander kneeling before me. He was all battered and bloodied from the fight.

This marked the fourth day since I had assumed command. Despite the ceaseless waves of attacks, we had managed to hold our ground—and more often than not, claim victory. Yet, today's battle had been anything but straightforward.

The Elven Commander had proven to be a capable tactician, his forces fighting with a precision that outshone the ferocity of yesterday's vampire-led assault. Still, their efforts fell short against the disciplined cohesion of the Ruvelion Royal Army.

In truth, the Ruvelions were leagues ahead of the Teraquin forces in competence. Where the Teraquins bickered and questioned every order, Freyja's commanders and their knights executed my demands without hesitation. It was almost too easy to lead them, as though they knew instinctively when to strike and when to hold back.

Today had been grueling. We had lost count of the number of fallen—ours and theirs. And yet, we had won once more.

I couldn't hide my annoyance as I turned my sneer toward the Elven Commander. "I hope that coward Karl Dolphis finally shows his face this time," I spat, my irritation boiling over.

If I could just eliminate him, this entire battle would be over. The ships would have no choice but to retreat back to Sancta Vedelia without their so-called Chief Commander. But no—Karl remained in his ships, orchestrating wave after wave of attacks from the safety of his hidden stronghold.

The Elven Commander's hateful glare sharpened at my remark. "Lord Dolphis is more honorable than the likes of you! And those Teraquin dogs who betrayed their own kind deserve no better than a dog's death!"

His piercing words were directed not just at me but at Toran, who stood at my side. Before Toran could respond, the pervert elf unsheathed his sword, his face twisted in anger.

"You are the traitor! Die now!"

"No," I interrupted coldly.

The pervert elf froze mid-step. "Why?! He dared to insult us—"

"Do I look like I care?" I scoffed, silencing him with a single glance. My words had quite the amount of disdain, not just for him but for the Teraquins who bristled nearby, clearly itching for bloodshed.

They needed to learn their place. Always asking to kill the prisoners or taking them as slaves. These Teraquin extremists were worse than the Elves of Utopia.

Turning my gaze back to the Elf Commander, I addressed Rania. "Take him and the others. Make sure they're all restrained with mana cuffs."

"Yes, Commander." Rania bowed her head and began to step forward.

Before she could act, the Elf Commander's voice rang out again. "E—Eden is watching everything! I swear, he will make you all pay for your sins against our peaceful people! You are all bound for hell—"

"Eden doesn't give a damn about you," I interrupted, turning back toward him.

His tirade had started to wear on my patience. My emotions, already dulled by the demands of this war, threatened to vanish altogether. But Eden's name always seemed to strike a nerve.

"Wh—What?" The Elf was momentarily overtaken by shock.

"You heard me." My gaze bore into his. "Eden has never cared about you. He doesn't care about us, either."

A ripple of disbelief spread through the knights gathered around me. The Teraquins glared, their expressions contorted outraged at my brazen disrespect. But the Ruvelions… they were quieter. While surprised, their reaction was far more subdued, almost as though they had expected this sentiment.

I supposed it made sense. The Ruvelion Order had been created by Freyja herself, and she harbored no love for Eden. In fact, she'd likely instilled in them a single truth: that Freyja was their sole goddess, their only protector.

"The last thousand years have been filled with war," I continued. "Conflict after conflict in Sancta Vedelia, between Utopia and Sancta Vedelia. Did anything change because of Eden? Did he ever descend to guide you? To lend his divine hand?" I paused watching him gritting his teeth before sneering. "If you want change, you don't sit and wait for Eden. You move. You fight. Utopia chose to take action for the sake of their future. And you?" I leaned in slightly, my stare drilling into him. "You do the same, fighting for your homeland and your families. You're no different from each other."

The Elf Commander's face twisted. "H-How dare you! We don't enslave—"

"If you're about to lecture me on enslavement, don't waste your breath." I cut him off with an icy tone. "Neither I nor anyone under my command have enslaved anyone. You're about to join your comrades as prisoners, and you can see for yourself that none of them have been sold into slavery. The proof is there. Look with your own eyes."

"What—"

"Enough. Take him out." I gestured curtly toward Rania, ignoring the sputtering elf as I turned to leave the tent.

Why was I wasting my breath on this? On someone who likely couldn't understand, no matter how much truth was laid before them?

I wouldn't have understood it, either—at least, not before I had seen both sides for myself.

"Is my car ready?" I asked, unable to hide the tiredness in my voice.

"Yes, Commander, but…" the knight hesitated.

"But what?" I asked, walking ahead to see for myself.

The answer became apparent almost immediately. My car was indeed ready, gleaming and parked just beyond a tightly formed line of Ruvelion knights. They stood shoulder to shoulder, creating a barrier to keep the encroaching Utopian civilians at bay.

The reason for the crowd's persistence was all too clear.

"It's her!"

"Loki!"

"Commander Loki!"

"Thank you for saving us!"

"Please, look over here!"

"Can I have your autograph?!"

"We love you!!"

Voices from the crowd called out in gratitude and admiration. Men, women, children—they all waved frantically, some with tears streaming down their faces. The sheer intensity of their fervor was overwhelming.

Suddenly, a high elven girl, no older than seven, slipped through the legs of the adults and darted past the knights. Before anyone could stop her, she rushed toward me and wrapped her tiny arms around my leg.

Her wide, sparkling eyes looked up at me with adoration. "You're the strongest, Loki!"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by her unfiltered sincerity. My emotions warred within me—conflict, humility, and bitterness. Forcing a small smile, I reached down and gently patted her head. "Thank you," I said softly.

One of the guards quickly stepped forward, carefully prying her away and escorting her back to her mother.

As I turned toward the car, I gave the crowd one last glance.

This wasn't good.

Without another word, I slid into the car and closed the door, leaving the voices behind.

***

ALVARA

He was here again today.

As always, he started with his grating recap of the day—a detailed rant about yet another battle against some Sancta Vedelia alliance army. Why he thought I would care, I'll never know, yet he droned on, oblivious to the hints I'd been dropping for months.

I didn't care.

I'd tried everything—disinterest, abuse, even outright ignorance—but none of it deterred him. He was like an annoying bard recounting the same tiresome tale, oblivious to his lack of an audience. To drown him out, I picked up a book, feigning complete absorption as always.

And yet, somewhere between the pages and his incessant rambling, I found myself listening.

How stupid was he?

What internal struggles did he think he was having, especially when it came to his mother?

He shouldn't care who lives or dies as long as it leads to saving her, right? That should be obvious.

Humans and their fragile emotions.

How was he any different from that naive Celeste? She, too, had her moments of tears and desperation, as if the world owed her something. I remembered how he had cried in the forest not long ago in front of me.

Wasn't he embarrassed?

Aren't you a man?

At least act like one.

"By the way, your Teraquin army is laughable," Amael sneered suddenly, breaking my train of thought. His voice was colder. "Weak, pathetic—I can't believe you counted on those idiots to take over Sancta Vedelia. Your big brother's sure screwed if that's his strategy." He let out a low, snarky laugh.

There.

Right there.

Something in his tone shifted. This wasn't the Amael Idea Olphean I'd come to know over the past year.

And it definitely wasn't the child Amael I'd heard about from others—the one described as kind, intelligent, altruist and fiercely protective of his siblings.

That child Amael, the one people claimed was gentle and virtuous was nowhere to be found in the one who was currently mocking. Or maybe I'd never known him at all. After all, he was a Human...

Yet, despite myself, I couldn't help comparing.

He had to have a split personality.

That was the only explanation.

Sometimes, he was a whining, petulant child, patient and smart, the very image of the boy everyone remembered. But then, on rare occasions, he became this—irritatingly arrogant, his words laced with venom toward everyone except himself. It was as though the moment he let this darker side show too much, something would snap, and he'd revert to his usual, pitiful self.

It was like watching two halves of a fractured mirror reflecting entirely different faces.

That other side of him was at least amusing, I suppose. It was certainly better than dealing with an unsightly, whining brat.

"I swear, they're worse than Utopia. Even you might be disgusted by your own people. Wait—are there even people you aren't disgusted by?" Amael raised a brow mockingly as he speared a piece of roasted meat from my plate and popped it into his mouth with exaggerated satisfaction.

I said nothing, opting instead to focus on the book in my hands. It wasn't that I wasn't eating—I just refused to eat in front of this man. It was too... embarrassing. The thought of being watched by him while I ate made my skin crawl.

And then—

-Guuurgle

The traitorous sound ripped through the room, far louder than I'd have liked.

"..."

"..."

My face flushed and I buried it in my book, mortified.

Why?! Why now of all times?!

I ate this morning, didn't I?

Amael tilted his head, looking far too amused for my liking. "Well, if you insist, I'll fetch you another plate."

To my surprise, he actually stood up and walked away, his usual mocking grin replaced with something more neutral.

He was back to his goody two shoes self.

He probably had some deep-seated trauma or psychological issue to explain this shift in behavior.

Five minutes later, he returned with a fresh plate of food.

"Here. Eat," he said, sliding it toward me.

I gave him a sharp glare, pointedly ignoring the offering.

I didn't ask him anything.

Just treat me and get out of my room and then I will eat!

"What?" he asked, unfazed. "You want me to feed you?"

Before I could respond, he skewered a piece of steak with his fork and brought it dangerously close to my mouth.

-Slap!

The fork clattered to the ground with a loud clang. I might have used a little more force than necessary; his hand was already turning red.

He glared at me. "Oh, excuse me. Am I the one whose stomach just growled loud enough for all of Utopia to hear?"

"..."

I clenched my fists, my annoyance bubbling into rage.

I am going to kill him!

Before I could act, he calmly picked up the knife, stabbed another piece of steak, and brought it toward me.

"Eat it. Now." His voice was low, and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"L–Leave me alone!" I shouted, twisting and thrashing, but he easily caught my wrist in his grip.

"Come on. Open wide."

I pushed against his chest with my free hand, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. But he snatched that wrist too, trapping me completely.

How dare he!

I glared daggers at him, my knee itching to strike the sensitive target between his legs. Just as I tensed to attack, he froze.

I blinked, confused. His hands remained on my wrists, but his gaze…

"..."

"..."

We locked eyes for what felt like an eternity, the room suddenly quiet except for the faint sound of my uneven breathing. His expression was unreadable, but it made something stir uncomfortably in my chest.

Unable to bear it any longer, I looked away, averting my gaze to the side.

Then he spoke finally. "You know... I never thought I'd find you cute one day."

"...!"

My face burned, my chest tightening with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

Without thinking, I lashed out with my foot, driving it squarely into his stomach with every ounce of force I could muster.

"Die, human!"

"Ugh!" He groaned, doubling over as the impact sent him sprawling backward onto the floor. Read latest stories on My Virtual Library Empire

The room fell into an eerie silence.

For a long moment, there was no sound, no movement.

I hesitated, my heart pounding as a thought crossed my mind.

'Is he… really dead?'

Carefully, I crawled to the edge of the bed. Peeking over the footboard, I spotted him lying there, sprawled on his back with one arm stretched out like a fallen warrior.

Then his head tilted toward me. His lips curved into a faint grin.

"Well, thanks. I feel better somehow," he said.

My expression twisted.

Was this man seriously a masochist?

He didn't give me a chance to retort, instead hauling himself back up and sitting on the bed beside me to treat me.

I watched as he closed his eyes to focus.

"..."

I didn't know what he was doing—some strange technique I couldn't understand—but somehow, I knew it was working.

I stared at him for a moment longer, my anger ebbing into an unfamiliar sense of security.

With a quiet sigh, I closed my eyes.

I didn't want to feel defenseless.

Not now.

Not ever.