I Am The Game's Villain-Chapter 558: Vanadias As New Home

"What have you done?"

"W–Why, big brother?"

"You… you became a monster…"

"…!"

I jolted awake. My vision blurred for a second before the bright sky above greeted me. Sunlight filtered through the swaying branches, too harsh for my tired eyes.

Lifting an arm, I shielded my face, letting out a slow sigh before pushing myself upright from the bench. The morning air carried the scent of blooming flowers, and birds chirped somewhere nearby—sounds that should have been comforting.

But they weren't.

Not when that dream haunted me again.

A twisted fusion of the Second Game's ending, where Edward met his death, condemned as a monster by the protagonist and the heroines… and Claudia's prophecy, woven into one harrowing nightmare.

I couldn't recall exactly how Christina and Alea had looked at me in that vision, but I could feel it—the fear, the hesitation, the judgment in their eyes.

It wasn't just a nightmare.

It was a prophecy.

I absentmindedly traced the scar along my jaw. The same scar Edward had. The same scar I had.

That future… it was about me.

But what could possibly drive me to that point? To become that?

I shut my eyes, forcing myself to remember as much as I could. I needed details—anything that could help me prevent whatever was coming.

Flashes of fire. Screams. Charred bodies. My flames had swallowed everything, leaving behind nothing but destruction.

There was a battle. I was in it.

And then—the eyes.

They were staring at me. Christina. Alea. Their gazes were different—confused, shaken, as if they could barely recognize me.

I clenched my fists and pushed that image aside, moving to another moment from the dream.

A sharp pain.

A blade piercing through my back.

I had been stabbed.

And Celeste…

She was crying. Again.

Who stabbed me?

I focused on the hand gripping the sword. Pale skin.

A vampire.

And on his index finger…

A red ring.

My pulse quickened. I knew that ring. I had seen it before. But where—?

I squeezed my temples, frustration mounting as I forced my mind to recall.

Then, like a spark igniting in the darkness, the answer hit me.

I snapped my eyes open, heart pounding as a single name left my lips.

"Lazarus."

I saw that damn red ring—wrapped around his finger.

It was him.

"Lazarus?"

A voice rang out beside me.

I turned my head and met the curious gaze of a girl with striking blondish-green hair and deep emerald eyes. Her hands rested lightly on the wheels of her wheelchair as she looked at me.

Bryelle.

It had been a week since my sentence of banishment.

The Heads had cast their judgment, and from that moment on, I never set foot in the Olphean Kingdom again—despite Christina's calls, despite everything I had once considered home.

At first, I had nowhere to go.

Or so I thought.

But then, an invitation came.

Tanya Teraquin had reached out to me, her message unexpected. She had heard about my exile and extended an offer—an invitation to her kingdom.

I had been stunned at first, unsure of her motives. But it turned out to be simple. She wanted to thank me.

Thank me for saving Bryelle. For saving Alvara.

People could say whatever they wanted, but I knew the truth. It wasn't politics or diplomacy that had saved them—it was my connection to Freyja. Without her, they would have been lost.

And then Tanya had made another offer.

She told me I could stay.

A few days, she said. Maybe longer, if I wanted.

In the end, I stayed longer than expected. Or rather, I asked to stay.

Here, in Vanadias, no one looked at me like a traitor. No whispers of condemnation followed me. The Teraquin soldiers—those who had once fought beside Tanya—understood. The civilians who had endured the war understood.

Perhaps it was because they, too, had been branded as traitors.

And so, for the past week, Vanadias had become my refuge.

If someone had told me months ago that I would be living in the heart of the Teraquin Kingdom, I would have laughed, called them mad.

And yet, here I was.

Sitting in the royal garden of the Teraquin palace, surrounded by elves.

This whole situation felt insane, no matter how many times I replayed the past few days in my mind.

I couldn't believe I was actually finding some peace in the heart of the racist capital.

Things had changed a lot since Alvara came back and Tanya took back her throne. All the traitor nobles? Gone, executed without hesitation. The knights who followed Kendel? Thrown into prison, no doubt receiving the harshest treatment imaginable.

They deserved every bit of it.

Yet, somehow, the absence of those traitors made the city feel... better, more alive, than I ever thought possible. It wasn't just a vibe; the whole atmosphere had shifted. Even the castle had this fresh, hopeful air about it, a contrast to how things used to feel.

The nobles still in the castle were the ones who'd remained loyal to Tanya through it all. They'd been imprisoned by Kendel and freed when Tanya took back control. These weren't just anyone—they were the kind of people who could be trusted without question.

And Kendel? Yeah, he was still locked up. I heard Cyril was the one who took him down, leaving him alive as a symbol of the treason he'd tried to pull off. Tanya wasn't about to kill her son, no matter how much he'd betrayed her, but keeping him alive also served as a reminder that they had nothing to do with Kendel's treason.

I glanced over at Bryelle, who was sitting beside me, her chest wound from the battle healing at an alarming pace. But then again, that was just Freyja's spell at work.

"Just someone," I muttered, shifting to sit properly on the bench. "You're way too cheerful this morning, Bryelle."

She pouted, her lips curling into that cute, exasperating look. "I always wake up early."

"Right, right," I smirked. "But I thought Alvara would've locked you in your room like she usually does, with no way out."

Her eyes went wide-eyed, and she stuttered, "E–Elder sister wouldn't do something like that! She's the best—"

"The best elder sister in the world, I know," I cut in, already used to her endless praises of Alvara.

Before she could respond, I felt a weight on my shoulder. I turned to see Alvara standing behind me, her umbrella's rod resting right on me. Her golden eyes, always so sharp, stared at me with a cold intensity, though there wasn't a shred of true anger in them. She just seemed… mildly annoyed.

"Do you have a problem with me?" She asked.

I raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was headed.

"Are you sulking?" I asked her.

Alvara covered her mouth, a soft laugh escaping as she took her umbrella back. "Why would I be sulking?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in response.

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"Because I might have a problem with you?" I grinned, playing along.

"Do you?" Alvara's eyes narrowed, as if daring me to say something more.

"Not at all," I laughed, turning my attention back ahead. "I love being with you."

And there it was—Alvara froze, her usual composure faltering just slightly. I could almost hear her thoughts, trying to process what I had said.

"You're lucky that I'm indebted to you," she said after a beat, almost as though she were trying to hide her reaction.

With that, she walked to the seat next to me and sat down.

"Good morning, elder sister!" Bryelle greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning, Bryelle," Alvara smiled softly, pulling her into a gentle hug. The warmth in her expression was something rare and beautiful.

I couldn't help but think that Alvara should smile like that more often—she looked so much more beautiful when she did.

Feeling my gaze, Alvara turned her head slightly, her expression guarded. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well," I began, feeling a bit bolder, "I thought you should smile more often like that. You look much more beautiful, to be honest."

Alvara's eyes widened slightly, her expression faltering before she quickly looked away, trying to maintain her usual composure. But I noticed the faintest tremble in her lips and the tips of her pointed ears flushing red.

"H–How dare you speak to me like that…" She muttered, her voice a bit too high-pitched to sound serious.

I grimaced, realizing my timing was off. Maybe I should have chosen a different moment, but it was too late now.

She began to play with her umbrella, her fingers fidgeting with the handle nervously.

After a moment, she cleared her throat, glancing up at me with those bright golden eyes—wide and almost too innocent for someone like her.

Now, how could I resist that?

That was her behavior that was last week toward me.

"You should know that tomorrow we have class," she said, her tone shifting, almost as though she were trying to change the subject.

"Yeah…" I sighed, not really excited about it. Class was finally resuming, but I couldn't say I was looking forward to it.

"Are you going to the academy with Lord Amael, Elder sister?" Bryelle asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Never," Alvara replied instantly, without missing a beat.

"That was quick," I said, giving a hurt look.

Alvara shot me a look, her expression turning more serious. "We can't be seen heading to the academy together yet—"

"Yet?" I interrupted with a teasing smile. "I wonder when will be the perfect occasion for that?"

I couldn't help myself; teasing her was too easy.

But in truth, Alvara had been my main source of peace and happiness these past few days. And as much as I liked to poke at her, I couldn't deny how much I appreciated her presence.

Alvara blinked trying to process my words then understanding them she narrowed her eyes. "Y–Your human jokes are despicable!"