I Am The Game's Villain

After nearly thirty minutes of nonstop sprinting, leaping over rooftops like a deranged parkour monkey, I finally made it to the base of the hill where the castle stood. Well, not the castle itself—just the massive fortified entrance. The entire hill was encircled by thick, towering stone walls, and I stood at their base, catching my breath under the suspicious glares of the werewolf guards.

They didn't look too thrilled to see me—arms crossed, claws twitching, and eyes locked onto me like I was a stray mutt trying to sneak into a palace. Obviously, I couldn't just stroll in like I owned the place, so I had already called in some help. Or rather, I messaged Rodolf to drag his royal ass over and vouch for me.

I waited impatiently, glancing up at the ramparts. And right on cue, a familiar voice drifted down.

"Back on Earth, you were never late... unless you were with Ephera."

I looked up—and there he was. Rodolf, standing smugly atop the wall like he was posing for a magazine cover.

"Your Highness!" The guards stuttered, immediately bowing low. But Rodolf wasn't paying them any attention—his eyes were fixed on me, and his smile widened.

"Ephera hated school," I replied.

"She still ranked first at our prom exams," he muttered with a growl.

"She was just a genius," I shrugged, letting the memory slide by.

"And you? What rank did you get again?" Rodolf asked, mock-stroking his chin like he didn't already know.

"Fifth," I snapped. "Still better than you, I'm pretty sure."

Rodolf narrowed his eyes. "Hey, I was the ace of the basketball team."

"Congrats. And now, use that star power to get me inside already."

The werewolf guards were still standing there awkwardly, clearly not following a word of our Earth-part banter.

Rodolf waved a dismissive hand at them. "Yeah, let him in already, idiots. He's a Prince. Unless you want the Olphean Queen herself storming in here to rip your furry heads off?"

"W–We wouldn't dare! Open the gates!" One of them barked frantically.

Of course, that was an empty threat. Alea wouldn't show up for me even if I collapsed outside her front door and cried for help judging from our current cold relation. But hey, if bluffing her name got me through the door, I wasn't complaining.

As the gates creaked open, Rodolf dropped down from the wall with an easy hop and fell into step beside me as we walked in together.

"Man, I hate exams," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Doesn't matter if it's Earth or here, they still suck."

I snorted. "Then go have fun with Cylien instead. Second-years are all here anyway."

Rodolf's face twisted into a grimace. "Tried. But she's refusing to go on any more dates until I get a decent score on the written exams. Said her older sister won't even consider me as a potential in-law if I'm not top-tier in every subject."

I grimaced. "Yeah... good luck with that. Her sister's kind of a raging racist, so even if you aced the entire curriculum, she'd still probably sneer at you."

It was Aerinwyn, after all. The annoying elder sister—stern, prideful, and practically allergic to affection. But beneath that frigid, highborn Elven exterior, she was a classic tsundere sis-con. She didn't show it openly, of course, but anyone who paid attention could see it—Aerinwyn cared deeply for Cylien. Probably too much. And because of that, she wanted nothing but the best for her little sister.

Unfortunately, in her eyes, 'the best' meant someone from among the Elves. Preferably a refined noble with an impeccable bloodline. Rodolf didn't exactly check those boxes.

"Can't really argue with that," Rodolf muttered. "But didn't you manage to seduce Alvara? You know—Goddess of Racists herself? If you pulled that off, anything should be possible."

I shot him a deadpan glare. "Don't compare Alvara to Aerinwyn."

He grinned. "Yeah, fair. Alvara's way worse. But still—how the hell did you pull that off? I mean, seriously? That woman sees even us werewolves as annoying little puppies. And Humans? She probably sees them as cockroaches with shoes. It's... weird, man. You didn't spike her tea with love potion or something, did you?"

Rodolf clearly had known Alvara longer than I had. Probably saw her in her full apocalyptic glory back in the Game, before she decided I was worth not vaporizing.

"Shut up. She's... she's a good woman. On the inside," I said, though even I had to force the last part out.

"Ahahaha." Rodolf threw his head back and laughed. "A good woman? She's rotting on the inside, man. She probably dreams in genocide. But hey, if you've got her on a control now, good for you. Just keep her the hell away from populated areas. I still don't fully trust she won't wake up one morning and decide to wipe out every non-Elven race for fun."

He wasn't joking, either. I could hear it in his voice—Rodolf had seen a version of her that most people couldn't even imagine.

"She won't," I snapped.

[<If you die, she definitely will.>]

Cleenah's voice echoed in my head like a drop of ice down my spine.

Oi—don't say stuff like that out of nowhere.

[<You shouldn't have played the Prince with her, then. Now it's too late, Edward.>]

I didn't 'play the Prince!' I mentally shouted back.

Rodolf, oblivious to my internal panic, kept pushing.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry if I don't exactly trust your track record with dangerous women. You didn't have any control over Ephera, so forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about your ability to tame literal doomsday goddesses."

"Could you stop badmouthing every woman I like for five seconds?"

Rodolf gave me an amused smirk. "Not until you stop having the absolute worst taste in women. How the hell are you attracting all living nuclear bombs huh?"

"Shut up."

We kept bickering the entire walk toward the castle—our usual back-and-forth echoing through the long pathway. It was stupid, really. Petty. But it helped distract me from the growing unease in my chest and I felt slightly good speaking again with that asshole of Yanis nonetheless.

"Are all the others already here?" I asked, glancing sideways at Rodolf.

He nodded. "Yeah, they've all shown up and paid their respects to my mother… unlike you. You should probably do that too."

I stopped mid-step. "Your mother…"

Rodolf shot me a sharp look. "What?"

"I'm just saying—I don't have the clearest image of your mom. Please tell me it's just my memory messing with me."

"It's definitely your memory," he replied too fast.

I snorted. "Try being honest for once in your life."

"I am being honest," he insisted. "Just don't do your usual weird thing where dangerous women get obsessed with you."

I halted in my tracks.

Rodolf turned around, annoyed. "What now?"

"I'm not seeing her," I said. "Send my regards. That's good enough."

"O–Oi! Seriously? I was joking!" Rodolf waved his hands in frustration. "She actually asked to see you."

I frowned. "Why the hell would your mother want to see me?"

Rodolf groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Because of the crap you've pulled lately! You've stirred things up. Now come on!"

"Not a chance. I'm not walking into that den," I said.

My gut twisted. Something about this felt… off. Bad.

Rodolf must've sensed my hesitation, because his voice softened just a little. "Look, I've got your back. Like the old days, remember?"

"Bullshit. I remember doing the cleanup while you sat pretty because Marlene had you wrapped around her little finger and wouldn't let you fight."

Rodolf snorted. "Yeah? At least Marlene acted like a normal caring girlfriend. Ephera was out there recording you beating the crap out of people like it was a damn action movie—and then rewatching it in class with that creepy smile."

"T–There's no way Ephera would actually do that…"

Rodolf's expression twisted into a grimace, the kind that said he was half-pitying me, half trying not to laugh. "Dude… when it comes to women, you've always been completely dumb."

"Fuck off."

He grinned, pressing the advantage. "Seriously, though? You're scared to talk to my mom? Hard to believe the great Villainess Layla actually fell for you."

Someone snapped in my head.

First John and now Rodolf?

I clenched my fists. "Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Show me the fucking way."

Rodolf smirked and strutted ahead, clearly pleased with himself.

[<Men and their pride… Don't worry, Edward. Layla is hopelessly in love with you—more than she's ever loved anyone before.>]

More than she's ever loved anyone before…?

What did that even mean?

Rodolf came to a stop in front of the tall, ornate doors leading into the throne room.

"Alright. Ready to behave for once in your life? Show at least a shred of respect. Bury the whole Nyr part of you and dig up that charming little genius everyone used to admire—Amael, the golden and kind boy."

I shot him a glare.

He ignored it and gave a curt nod to the two guards standing sentinel on either side of the doors. Without a word, they moved in perfect synchrony, pulling the towering doors.

As the doors parted, my eyes were immediately drawn into the vast throne room beyond.

It was grander than the others I'd seen in this castle—wider, longer. But curiously, the room was nearly empty. No courtiers, no attendants. Just the two guards who had let us in… and the figure at the end of the hall.

"Huh?"

I was left dumbfounded seeing the figure on the throne.