I Am The Game's Villain
Chapter 675: [Blood Moon War] [20] Hidden Pain
CHAPTER 675: [BLOOD MOON WAR] [20] HIDDEN PAIN
After what felt like an eternity staring at the ceilingI had memorized a hundred times—I finally lifted my heavy body from the bed.
Carefully, I untangled myself from the two sleeping figures beside me. Levina had her small hand curled around the front of my shirt, while Amaya’s arm was snugly wrapped around my waist. I moved slowly, gently peeling their warmth away from me. They stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
I rose to my feet and padded across the room, putting on my shoes. I opened the door, careful not to make a sound, and slipped quietly into the dim corridors of the castle.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep because of Amaya’s presence beside me. She wasn’t the cause of the restless night. No, the truth was simpler—and bitter.
Sleep just didn’t come to me anymore.
Whenever I closed my eyes, the silence devoured me. It wrapped itself around me like a thick fog, pressing in on all sides. It reminded me of the hollowness inside—the gaping emptiness I’d been ignoring.
That void... Cleenah had been the one filling it. As loud and irritating as she could be, her presence had always been there. Constant. Familiar. A chaotic noise that had somehow kept me anchored.
Now that she was gone, I felt stripped bare.
Vulnerable in a way I hadn’t known I could be.
A sharp breath escaped me as I clutched my chest and staggered forward, the long corridors echoing with the ghost of my steps. Eventually, I made it out into the cool night air. My legs carried me with an unsteady gait.
Sloth.
Ever since I used that damn sin, the assimilation had been accelerating. It was faster than it had been with Wrath, almost violently so. Back then, I was convinced I could handle it—because Cleenah had been there. I realize now she was helping slow the process down. Protecting me in ways I hadn’t understood until it was too late.
And now...
Now there was no support.
No shield.
Just me, and a storm of pain I couldn’t block out.
Memories—mine, Roda’s, Elizabeth’s, and Cleenah’s—all tangled and crashed together with Samael’s grief. A raw, gnawing agony writhed inside me, deeper than anything I’d ever known.
Bitterness. Rage. Loneliness. Sorrow. All of it swirled through me like a storm with no center, no calm.
Was this how Samael felt when he lost Sia?
No... it was worse for him. I was only tasting fragments of his pain—what he must have endured was beyond comprehension. It was the kind of suffering that could drive someone mad.
And in that madness... could I really blame him for turning his back on Eden?
I didn’t know anymore.
Maybe I had been wrong.
Maybe Eden really was to blame.
That thought clenched inside me painfully, and I stumbled forward until I collapsed against the cold stone wall of the castle. My body slid down until I was seated on the ground, legs folded awkwardly, lungs gasping for air as if I’d forgotten how to breathe.
Before me stretched the garden—lush and peaceful under the red moonlight. The flowers rustled gently in the breeze, petals trembling as though whispering secrets I would never understand. The small trimmed trees swayed softly, casting shifting shadows that danced across the pathways.
It reminded me of Cleenah’s dimension.
Of that bizarre little pocket world of hers.
Tears blurred my vision.
She told me not to cry.
But I couldn’t stop.
It was unbearable. The grief was like acid, eating through the walls I had even though reinforced over the years. I wanted to rip my heart out just to make it end. To stop feeling anything at all.
She had been there with me for two years.
Two long, loud, exhausting, comforting years. Living inside me. Talking to me. Teasing me with her nonsense. Poking fun at everything. Always with that voice, sarcastic and shrill, like nails on a chalkboard—and yet, now that it was gone, the silence she left behind was deafening.
I used to think she was just mocking me. I believed she exaggerated on purpose, said stupid things just to get under my skin.
But now, sitting here alone, I finally understood.
That had been her way of helping me.
Of calming the storm inside me. Of distracting me from the bitterness that had taken root after losing Ephera. She hadn’t been annoying—she had been saving me in her own chaotic, loudmouthed way.
She wanted me to find joy again. To laugh. To live.
And she fought for me.
She stood between me and enemies I couldn’t even comprehend, let alone defeat. All while I recklessly hurled myself toward death again and again, too blind and too broken to see the truth.
She protected me.
And I... I was too stupid to realize it until now.
There were so many things I wanted to say to her.
So many words that had been stuck in my throat, unspoken.
I wanted to apologize—for dragging her into all my messes, for putting her through pain I never acknowledged, for every burden I handed her without realizing.
I wanted to thank her—for everything she had done for me, even the things I never saw. The silent sacrifices. The protection. The constant presence that had kept me afloat when I didn’t even know I was drowning.
I wanted to tell her...
That I loved her.
That I wanted to know more. About her past, her life before we met. Who she was outside of the voice in my head.
But I kept pushing it back, foolishly thinking there’d always be time. I delayed and delayed, refusing to face the inevitable.
"I’m so stupid..." I muttered under my breath, letting out a hollow, bitter laugh.
Always too late.
That was me.
Too late to confess to Ephera before she slipped through my fingers. I had planned this grand gesture in Paris, thought I’d take her there and tell her everything. I thought I was being romantic. But in the end, all I had was regret and silence.
As I sat there wallowing in my own failure, I suddenly felt someone’s presence beside me. Quiet, unintrusive. They sat down slowly, the soft rustle of fabric brushing against stone.
I turned my head to the right, blinking through the haze of tears.
Viessa.
She said nothing at first. I quickly wiped my face with the back of my sleeve and looked away. I didn’t have the strength to talk. Not now.
"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?"Sshe said after a moment, her eyes fixed on the crimson moon hanging low in the sky.
I didn’t respond.
My throat felt tight.
"My mother used to be terrified of it," Viessa continued softly. "Most of my people are. They avoid looking at it. But me... I’ve always found it beautiful. Haunting. Strange, but it calls to me."
I let out a breath. "You want to fall under the Witch’s spell that badly?"
She laughed gently and shook her head. "No. Not quite."
There was a pause.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I heard you crying."
I shot her a glance, narrowing my eyes. She met my look with a small smirk before sighing.
"It’s hard to sleep when all I can think about is how many of my people died yesterday."
"You shouldn’t waste your strength mourning the dead," I replied. "Worry about the living. The ones still here."
That was the only reason I kept moving forward.
Because I still had people I loved. People I needed to protect.
Viessa fell silent at that. I looked over to her and saw her lips parted, trembling. Her gaze dropped to her lap, where her fingers fidgeted.
"You know," she whispered after a long silence, "I had a little brother. He was five years younger than me."
Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard before continuing.
"I raised him mostly on my own. He was fierce—arrogant sometimes—but he had the gentlest soul I’d ever known. When I took the throne, when I became Queen, everything changed. I started spending more and more time with the other leaders, with the kingdom’s politics. We were called Heroes, and that title came with... expectations. I told myself I was doing it all for him. That if I protected the kingdom, I was protecting him too."
She laughed bitterly, her eyes glistening with tears. "But I stopped seeing him. Stopped being there. And he never said much. Just the occasional glance, the little comments. Annoyed, sad, trying to cheer me up. Trying not to show how upset he was. And I... I never noticed just how much he needed me."
Her voice cracked.
"I thought he was safe in the castle. I had no idea he joined the battlefield under my command. I didn’t even know he was there... until the day he died."
The tears finally fell.
Her shoulders trembled as she spoke.
"He wasn’t scared when he died. Just angry. Hurt. He started pouring everything out. All the emotions he had bottled up—how he missed me, how he hated not seeing me, how every night he feared I’d die and never come back. That he cried in the garden when no one was looking. That he trained with his sword to forget the fear, the loneliness. All because he didn’t want to burden me."
Her hands clenched in her lap.
"He just wanted to spend time with me. Just wanted his sister back and I was unable to give him that simple wish."
When she spoke those words about her brother, I couldn’t help but think of Christina.
"I..."
Before I could finish the thought, Viessa glanced at me, her eyes narrowing as if she was reading the shift in my expression.
"You have a big sister, don’t you?" She asked.
"I had," I said quietly, the words catching on my tongue like thorns. "Or... I thought I did."
Viessa stayed silent, waiting.
"When she found out I wasn’t exactly her long-lost little brother, everything changed. It was subtle at first—hesitations, glances, that little fear in her eyes. She kept saying everything was fine and still came to see me, but... I could feel it. That distance. That fear. It was the same with my mother."
I let out a bitter, breathless chuckle.
"So I cut them off. Just like that. I thought, what was the point of pretending? They didn’t see me the same way anymore, and I couldn’t handle that. They were the only family I thought I had left, and now... well, I guess I was destined to be an orphan after all."
Viessa didn’t immediately respond.
"Did you ever tell them?" She asked.
"Tell them what?"
"How you felt," she said. "About them seeing you differently."
"I... I did."
She raised an eyebrow slightly, not convinced.
"But did you really talk to them? Properly? Honestly?" She asked with a quiet smile. "If they kept coming back, maybe they were waiting for you to say something that mattered."
My eyes dropped to the ground.
"It wouldn’t change anything," I muttered. "Words don’t fix how people see you. You can’t force someone to see you the same way they once did."
Before I could say more, Viessa leaned over and gently wrapped her arms around my head, pulling me into her shoulder. I stiffened, surprised by the sudden gesture.
"What are you—"
"This isn’t how you should think, Edward," she whispered. "That’s exactly what Rian did with me. He assumed I wouldn’t understand, that I wouldn’t listen. And he kept bottling everything up until it was too late."
I felt her tears dripping down onto my hair as she held me tighter.
"I was stupid too," she continued, voice cracking. "But if—if only he had opened up and told me what he needed... what he felt... maybe things would’ve turned out differently."
She chuckled softly through her tears, trying to compose herself.
"Ah... you know, I’m actually a little jealous of your big sister. If I were her, and you tried cutting me off like that, I would’ve kicked your ass until you accepted me again. I’d never let you go that easily."
I smiled faintly.
"Christina would never hurt me," I murmured, reaching out my hand to pull myself back.
That’s when Viessa suddenly froze.
"W–Wait..." she stuttered.
Her eyes locked on my wrist. The green bracelet. The one I’d almost forgotten I was wearing.
She reached out and gently grasped it, her fingers trembling. "W–Where did you get this?" She asked, voice breaking, eyes wide with disbelief.
Of course.
She was the one who gave it to me—or rather, she would give it to me. Or maybe... she already had.
I couldn’t tell her the truth. That it was from her, from a future she hadn’t lived yet. That would be insane.
So I said the only thing that made sense in the moment.
"Someone gave it to me."
Her grip tightened slightly. "Who?"
More tears streamed down her cheeks.
I swallowed.
"...My big sister," I lied.
Viessa blinked, stunned. She ran her thumb slowly across the green stone, her expression softening into something bittersweet.
"It looks exactly like the one I gave to Rian," she whispered.
"Where is it now?"
Maybe the crystal—the one that brought me to the past—was into it since it was from the past?
If I could find it again, maybe I could get back to my own time. The problem was... I had no idea how Cain had triggered it. I only remembered him mumbling something right before everything collapsed.
Viessa turned her gaze toward me again, her eyes shimmering.
"Do you want it?" She asked suddenly.
I blinked.
"I mean..."
How was I supposed to respond to that?
Saying yes would just make things more complicated. She might ask why I wanted her dead brother’s keepsake, and that would be a hell of a conversation I didn’t want to have. It would sound creepy as hell.
Viessa grinned.
"Alright then—call me Big Sister, and I’ll give it to you."
"No."