I Am The Game's Villain-Chapter 732: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [14] Angry Alvara
The thorny vine snapped tight around my arm, yanking me backward with a quite force. It wasn’t that I enjoyed pain or anything—far from it—but the sting of the thorns digging into my skin felt oddly familiar.
Well, obviously knew who it was.
I’d felt her presence earlier, but I needed to speak with John first. Guess she didn’t care about my priorities.
The vine tugged harder, lifting me clean off the ground before unceremoniously dropping me onto the cold, hard earth. My back hit first, followed by the back of my head, and I groaned under my breath. Maybe I should’ve resisted. Then again, maybe I deserved that. I had left her without saying a single word—even if the situation back then had given me no choice.
When I finally lifted my head, the first thing I saw was a long, graceful leg crossed over the other. The hem of her white dress brushed lightly against her knee, and just a few inches from my face was a foot clad in elegant sandals—Alvara’s.
As expected, she hadn’t kicked me out of anger. A small relief, honestly.
I raised my gaze to meet her eyes. Alvara stared down at me with a mix of composure and irritation, her golden irises glinting coldly.
Still, the sight of her holding the umbrella I’d gifted her—a sleek white umbrella—pulled a quiet smile out of me.
"You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you?" Alvara said coldly.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position, legs crossed, and sighed.
"A lot happened," I replied..
Her expression tightened. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate my non-answer. Her gaze grew sharper, colder.
"I see," she said curtly, uncrossing her legs as she stood up, clearly intending to leave.
She was angry—that much was obvious. But I could tell she was holding herself back. Maybe she thought I’d been through enough, having lost Elizabeth. Maybe she didn’t want to add salt to the wound. So instead of snapping at me, she chose to leave in silence—a quiet display of her anger.
But I couldn’t let her walk away like that.
Before she could take a step, I reached out and caught her wrist, tugging her gently but firmly toward me.
Her breath caught in surprise as she stumbled forward. "...!"
I caught her easily, her body falling softly into my lap. For a second, she just froze—golden eyes wide. I reached up and adjusted the umbrella she was holding, raising it above us both.
She looked adorably flustered, and I couldn’t help but grin.
That expression didn’t last long, though. Alvara quickly regained her composure and started to push herself off me, but I didn’t let her. Sliding an arm beneath her knees and another around her back, I lifted her up in a princess carry. Her weight was almost nothing—she felt delicate, soft, like holding a piece of cloud that might slip away if I wasn’t careful.
I sat down on the nearby bench, still holding her, the umbrella now propped in the stand beside us.
"What are you doing..." She muttered, glaring up at me.
To anyone else, that glare might’ve been intimidating. To me, it was just cute.
"I don’t like it when you sulk," I said, smiling as I secured the umbrella so it covered both of us.
Alvara turned her face away with a small huff, refusing to meet my eyes—but her pointed ears were slightly red.
"Sorry," I said softly, meeting her eyes. "If I could have, I would’ve told you everything."
It had been two weeks since everything happened. Two long, chaotic weeks. Of course she’d been worried—probably anxious out of her mind. Her anger wasn’t misplaced; if anything, it was restrained.
She had been in Elyen Kiora when the Behemoth incident occurred. When she returned, she found out about Elizabeth’s death... and about my disappearance with Alicia. To anyone, that would’ve looked suspicious.
Alvara shifted slightly on my lap, trying to lift herself up, but I gently pressed a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place.
"Hm!" She flinched, a startled sound slipping past her lips.
"What was that?" I laughed, teasingly.
Her golden eyes narrowed into a sharp glare, but that only made her look more cute. She tried again to push herself up, but I tightened my arm around her.
"Do you really want to move that badly?" I asked, raising a brow. "Or are you just that embarrassed to be seen with a Half High Human in this position?"
Her expression stiffened, and before I could say anything else, she covered my face with her palm.
"Just move away—"
She didn’t finish the sentence because I kissed her palm.
"Aah!" She yelped softly, pulling her hand back and looked at me with indignation.
I chuckled under my breath. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop."
I loosened my hold, allowing her to sit up properly. Still, I didn’t let her go completely. She ended up sitting sideways on my lap, her legs stretched out across the bench as the umbrella above us shielded us from the gazes.
"Don’t worry," I said with a faint smile, glancing around. "Nobody can see us like this anyway."
That was half a lie—there might’ve been a few wandering eyes—but at least the umbrella gave us some privacy.
Alvara stayed silent, her gaze distant. The anger hadn’t faded yet.
"I told you I’m sorry," I said again, my voice quieter this time.
"Where did you go?" She asked after a pause, her tone calm and restrained, but the emotion beneath it was clear.
"Somewhere far," I said simply.
Her fingers curled slightly into fists at that. "You didn’t go to Utopia. You left somewhere else... with her."
I blinked, a little surprised at how sharp her words were. "Wait—are you upset because I was with Alicia all this time?"
Her golden eyes narrowed.
Then she sneered.
I couldn’t help but smile. "You’re even cuter when you sulk, you know that?"
Before she could react, I slid my arm around her waist, pulling her gently against my side.
She stiffened, her breath catching, but she didn’t push me away.
"It’s complicated," I said, resting my head lightly against hers. "But I didn’t disappear to go on some honeymoon, if that’s what you’re thinking. We got dragged into something big. Dangerous. And... it took longer than expected to get out."
"A lot longer."
"I know." I smiled faintly. "But I’m guessing you found a way to vent that anger—probably by bullying every non-Elf race at the academy, right?"
"..."
"As expected of my favorite racist Princess," I couldn’t help but laugh.
I knew her too much.
Alvara only shrugged, as if I’d just complimented her. Then her eyes stared at me in surprise. "You... rose an Ascension, didn’t you?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Not long ago."
"Ninth Ascension," she mumbled, almost to herself. "And you’re only eighteen..."
I gave a modest shrug. "You’ll catch up soon. You have divine genes, after all. Godhood practically runs in your veins."
For a moment, she just looked at me in silence. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand, her fingers brushing along the side of my face. The touch was featherlight as her fingertip traced the faint scar running down my jaw.
"What happened?" She asked.
I met her gaze—those bright golden eyes shimmering with something between concern and pride—and smiled faintly. I took her hand in mine, gently closing her fingers around my palm.
"Want to walk with me?" I asked.
I didn’t wait for her reply. I shifted her off my lap, letting her feet touch the ground, and picked up the umbrella.
"Come on, Princess," I said, tilting the umbrella to cover her as well. "Otherwise the lower races might catch a glimpse of you. You wouldn’t want their filthy gazes on you, right?"
"Hmph," she scoffed, but stepped close enough that our shoulders brushed under the umbrella’s cover.
And despite her prideful huff, I could tell—she wasn’t angry anymore. At least not as much as before.
"How’s Bryelle doing?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"She’s fine," Alvara replied.
"Hm." I nodded. "If you meet the Saintess later, tell her you’re coming on my behalf—to heal Bryelle’s legs. She should be able to do it."
The Saintess’s healing powers weren’t something people could just request at will. Even within the Holy Church, her miracles were tightly controlled, reserved for those the clergy deemed worthy. But Maria... Maria owed me a favor or two. If Alvara mentioned my name, I was confident she’d help. Maria or Seraphina actually depending which one becomes the Saintess.
Alvara gave me a sidelong look, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Why don’t you ask her yourself?"
"Well..."
I didn’t say it aloud, but the truth was that I wasn’t sure I’d even be around by the time that chance came.
A faint smirk tugged at my lips as I forced a bit of levity into my voice. "Honestly? I just wanted to see you ask someone for a favor. That’s something that happens once every few decades."
Alvara arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "That was a poor attempt at deflection, my Love—and an even poorer joke."
"Sorry," I chuckled weakly. "I’ve never been good at humor."
She tugged at my sleeve gently, her fingers brushing against the fabric. "Then maybe you can try honesty instead. How about you tell me what you’ve been hiding all this time? Especially about that talk you had with your father."
Her words hit a nerve. Right, she had been there that day.
I looked down at her. "Once the Festival ends," I said finally, "I’ll tell you everything. Is that alright?"
"That’s too long," she shot back immediately.
"It’s in two days," I reminded her.
Her gaze sharpened. "That happens to coincide with Celeste’s marriage, doesn’t it? I doubt that’s a coincidence. Something else is going to happen that day, isn’t it?" She asked, right on the spot. "I’m fairly certain you won’t let the marriage proceed smoothly. You never do. After all, you’re a cheater who can’t help loving several women at once."
Her words stung—but not because they were wrong.
I sighed quietly, reaching out and taking her left hand in mine, my fingers brushing against hers. "And yet you still fell for that same cheater, didn’t you?"
But as soon as I said it, the humor died in my throat. My smile faltered. Something cold settled in my chest.
Was that right of me?
My gaze drifted downward, darkening. Even now, when I wasn’t sure I’d be alive in two days, here I was—holding her hand, teasing her, pretending like there was a future waiting for us. If I died... this would only make things harder for her. For all of them.
Alvara...
I didn’t ever want to see her cry again.
I began to pull my hand away, but before I could, she tightened her grip around mine. Her fingers pressed firmly into my skin, refusing to let go. I looked up, surprised.
Her cheeks were faintly flushed as she looked ahead.
"Alvara..." I called, turning to face her fully.
She tilted her head slightly, confusion flickering in her gaze. "What is it?"
"If something happens to me—ugh!"
I groaned mid-sentence as she abruptly stepped on my foot.
"Nothing will happen," she said sharply, irritation flashing in her eyes.
I gave a pained laugh. "Just... taking precautions," I said, forcing a strained smile as I tilted the umbrella forward, letting it shield her completely. She was close enough now that I could feel the warmth of her shoulder brushing against my arm.
"I just hope you won’t return to your old hobby of burning people alive," I muttered with a weak smile.
Her lips curved faintly. "No. I’ll probably move on and find someone else—"
I didn’t let her finish.
Before I could think, I leaned in and kissed her.
"Mm!"
Her words cut off in a startled breath. Her eyes widened, gold flickering with shock before slowly fluttering shut. I felt her tense for a moment—then melt, just slightly, into the kiss. Her eyelashes trembled as she closed them.
When I finally pulled back, I stared at her.
"You won’t," I said quietly, my voice and tone sounding different.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t have done that—even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t blur that line again—I couldn’t stop. I’d let my heart move before my mind.
Alvara stared at me for a moment, her golden eyes flickering with emotion, her face flushed a deep red. Then she turned her head aside.
"I won’t..."
***
"What are you even doing here?" Priscilla asked.
In the heart of Ravenia, where the streets buzzed with soldiers and Trinity Eden academy students moving in tight formations, she had been overseeing a group of young recruits. Her attention had been fixed on their drills—until she spotted him.
Jefer.
He was walking through the plaza as casually as if he belonged there, his coat swaying slightly with each step. That alone was enough to set off alarm bells in her mind.
Priscilla blinked once, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. Then, without hesitation, she dismissed the student beside her and made her way toward him.
If there was one thing she’d learned about Jefer, it was that he never moved without a reason. Every glance meant something. So seeing him here, of all places, in Ravenia—far from where he should’ve been—made her both curious and uneasy.
’Don’t tell me... he came here for me?’ She thought, narrowing her eyes as his gaze met hers.
The thought made her heart flutter in a confusing, unwanted way.
It had been weeks since Elizabeth’s death. Priscilla had barely held herself together after that day. And Jefer... he was the one who’d found her.
He hadn’t said much back then—just asked if she was alright in that calm, stoic tone of his—but it was enough to break her. She’d clung to him, crying into his chest until exhaustion overtook her. When she woke up, she was in her bed, and he was gone.
Since then, they’d barely spoken. Not because she didn’t want to, but because Jefer always seemed just out of reach.
So when he suddenly appeared before her now, walking through the capital like it was nothing, her pulse quickened.
Jefer stopped in front of her. "Did you see Percy?"
Her heart sank instantly.
Of course. Of course he didn’t come here for her.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "No," she said curtly, crossing her arms. "He’s assigned to another group. You’ll have to look for him yourself."
"I see." Jefer nodded simply, his tone neutral as always.
Then, his gaze shifted—his expression darkening slightly as he looked past her, toward something deep in the city. Without another word, he turned on his heel and started walking away.
Priscilla watched him go, her throat tightening. She wanted to call out, to ask him to stay, to say anything—but her pride got in the way.
Her fingers curled at her sides.
’Of course,’ she thought bitterly. ’I’m just stupid. Waiting for this idiot... I’ll probably just die alone at this rate.’
She sighed, trying to shake off the ache in her chest. But before she could take another step, a familiar voice drifted back to her through the crowd.
"You’re going to get bald."
Her eyes widened. She turned around sharply—and there he was again, glancing at her over his shoulder, that faint, light mocking smile on his lips.
"I told you before," Jefer said, "if you keep getting upset over everything, you’ll go bald."
Priscilla’s face flushed crimson. "T–Take care of yourself first, you idiot!" She shouted back, trying to sound angry even as embarrassment burned through her cheeks.
Jefer didn’t reply. He just gave a small wave and disappeared into the moving crowd, his figure slowly swallowed by the flow of people.
For a moment, she stood there, hands on her hips, glaring at the spot where he’d been. But once the redness faded from her face, a small, involuntary smile appeared on her lips.
"Idiot," she mumbled softly, shaking her head before turning back toward her students.
Still, her heart felt a little lighter than before.
...
...
After leaving Priscilla behind, Jefer’s expression hardened, the faint warmth in his eyes vanishing completely.
Something was wrong.
A surge of Prana pulsed through the air.
It belonged to Percy.
Jefer’s brow furrowed. Why would Percy be using his Prana here... in the capital?
What was he doing?
Without hesitation, he followed the faint trail that prickled against his heightened senses. Even among the werewolves, Jefer’s perception was monstrous—sharp enough to sense energy flows from miles away. The current was faint but clear, leading toward the outskirts of Ravenia.
Night had already blanketed the capital. The streets were mostly empty now—families and travelers retreating to their homes after a long day of celebration. The festival’s main attractions were still blazing at the city center, filling it with laughter and light, but here on the edge... it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jefer landed silently on the dark, deserted street, boots pressing against the cobblestone as his eyes scanned the shadows. The faint trace of Prana lingered. But as he followed it deeper into the alleyways, his frown deepened.
This wasn’t Percy’s Prana anymore.
Then he caught it.
A faint scent of blood.
Familiar blood.
Jefer’s pupils dilated. "...Roda?"
He broke into a sprint, his figure blurring through the darkness. The scent grew thicker the farther he went, leading him to a worn-down house at the far end of the street. The door creaked slightly open. He didn’t waste time knocking—just pushed through and stepped inside.
The interior was cold and silent. Dust floated in the air. Then his eyes caught a trail on the floor—a smudge, a faint mark leading to a half-hidden trapdoor.
He dropped through it without hesitation.
The tunnel below was narrow and reeked of old blood and damp stone. The air was heavy with Prana. He ran faster, every muscle in his body tightening as his instincts screamed danger.
And then—
He burst into a large underground circular place.
There, under the dim red glow of candles sat Roda.
She was bound to a chair, ropes cutting into her arms and legs, her mouth gagged. Her eyes widened when she saw him, tears spilling as she struggled and made muffled noises, shaking her head violently.
He rushed forward—but the moment he stepped into the center of the chamber, the ground shifted.
Dozens of mana circles flared to life, crawling across the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. Their glow turned the entire space blood-red.
Jefer stopped, eyes narrowing as he scanned the circles.
Blood Arts.
But these... weren’t normal.
The blood circles pulsed with a power that made even his heart skip. The walls seemed to breathe as fresh blood seeped from them, feeding the circles like veins carrying lifeblood.
A chill ran through him. This level of Blood Art... it requires a lot of sacrifices.
Cyril?
No...
Even if Cyril was talented, he shouldn’t be capable of something this massive. The blood used to bind all these circles together—it wasn’t ordinary.
Then he noticed it—another web of glowing pattersn forming behind Roda.
Jefer’s instincts screamed.
He didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, cutting through the ropes with one sweep of of his hands, then tore the gag from her mouth.
"U–Uncle!!" Roda cried out, her voice trembling.
A red glow suddenly flared from all directions—an explosion of mana and blood converging.
Jefer didn’t hesitate, pulling Roda into his arms. He unleashed his Prana, flooding the cavern with blinding light as a dome of golden energy formed around them.
Then—
-BOOOOOOM!!!
The entire place erupted, a violent shockwave tearing through the underground with a sound that split the night and blowing up the houses above.
