I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 561 561: Back To The Trinity Eden Academy

The next day, much to my annoyance, classes resumed as if nothing had happened.

Sancta Vedelia really wasnʼt one to waste time. They had won the war, the Kingdomʼs reparations were already underway, and the academy itself had remained unscathed. There was no logical reason to delay further—at least, thatʼs what the higher-ups seemed to believe.

Morally, it was questionable. Pushing students back into the routine so quickly after a war? It felt callous. But this wasnʼt a normal world, and Trinity Eden wasnʼt just an academy—it was a forge, refining the elite of the elites. Maybe there was urgency among Sancta Vedeliaʼs leadership, a desperate need to accelerate the growth of future warriors. The war had exposed a severe lack of exceptional talents, and they couldnʼt afford to let that happen again.

To be fair, they should have been grateful to have this so-called golden generation walking their halls. Victor, Celeste, Elizabeth, Alvara, and the others—true prodigies, each of them. Even so, they knew raw talent wasnʼt enough. They needed power, an unshakable foundation, especially after being abandoned by Edenis Raphiel during the war. Left to fend for themselves against Utopia, they had emerged victorious largely because of Victor, Celeste, Elizabeth… and, of course, me.

I wasnʼt ashamed to acknowledge my role. Whatever those arrogant Heads thought, I had been instrumental in securing Sancta Vedeliaʼs victory. Let them grumble—I knew the truth.

Still, something about their urgency felt off. I had a hunch it had to do with the new Tree of Ymir that had appeared in Utopia. That kind of power, that kind of presence—it was a clear statement. Sancta Vedelia felt threatened. But should they be? I doubted Freyja had any interest in waging war, not unless she was left with no other choice. The only reason she might even consider it was if I failed to retrieve her body in time. And she did seem… rather fixated on that.

Now that I thought about it, she might really be willing to start a war just to get it back.

Well, I wasnʼt about to let that happen. I would recover her body before it reached that point. But not yet. The timing had to be perfect—any premature move would raise too many suspicions. If I acted too soon, all eyes would turn to me, and Iʼd either end up imprisoned or exiled before the Second Game concluded.

No, the right time would be at the end of the Second Gameʼs story, just before I left Sancta Vedelia for good. That way, I could take Freyjaʼs body and disappear beyond their reach before they even realized what had happened.

It was a truly underhanded move, but after what those guys had done to me, I couldnʼt bring myself to care. Still, I needed information about the consequences of my actions and the role Freyjaʼs body played in the Tree—just in case. But who could I even ask?

Alector and Claudia might have the answers, but there was no way I could approach them. Theyʼd immediately sense my intentions and seal off the Tree until I left Sancta Vedelia.

Yeah, thatʼs how wary theyʼd become of me ever since I blatantly married Freyja and became the Guardian of the Holy Tree of Ymir. I couldnʼt exactly blame them for that. I blamed them for plenty of other things—their utter lack of gratitude for everything Iʼd done for them, for instance.

But the main reason for their hostility? That was entirely on them.

”Hey… look.”

”Itʼs him. Edward Falkrona, isnʼt it?”

”I thought he was an Olphean?”

”Idiot! He came from that Kingdom of Celesta as a criminal in rehabilitation! He canʼt be an Olphean!”

”Yeah, itʼs definitely him. Heʼs using some kind of artifact to alter his appearance… He really tricked all of us this past year.”

As I walked through the academy grounds, I became the center of attention. Every step I took seemed to draw more gazes, each stare filled with suspicion and whispered accusations. The murmurs reached my ears—none of them pleasant, none of them well-intended.

I didnʼt know how ʼtheyʼ had done it, but in the span of a week, they had completely rewritten my identity. Edward Falkrona. The name followed me like a curse. Sure, the world broadcast had played a role, but it shouldnʼt have been enough to make every single student and even civilians look at me like an outsider, like I didnʼt belong to Sancta Vedelia at all.

Yeah, I had entered Sancta Vedelia and joined Trinity Eden Academy as a criminal in rehabilitation. But over the past year, I had completely changed the way people saw me. I had rewritten their perceptions, made them forget where I came from. The shift had been solidified when I became known as Amael Olphean, when I stood beside people like Victor and Celeste.

But everything had been crushed entirely within a week, and I was pretty sure the nobles of all countries had a hand in it. The high nobles, working in the shadows for the Heads, had orchestrated this. It could have been any of the Houses—or maybe all of them—collaborating to destroy my image. Now, I was seen in an even worse light than before.

This was clearly a coordinated effort to bring me down and strip away any privileges I might have had in Sancta Vedelia. They wanted to brand me as the ultimate traitor after everything I had done. Wild rumors spread like wildfire, campaigns of harassment ran unchecked, and before I knew it, my reputation had been completely dismantled.

It was unbelievable.

But at the same time, it showed just how much they despised the way I had blocked their attempts to gain control over Utopia. The Seed of Eden had been the final straw.

Why were they going to such lengths?

Honestly, I didnʼt have a definitive answer, but if I had to guess, they were trying to isolate me. In a month, when I left, they wanted to ensure I had no protection from Sancta Vedelia. It was a preemptive measure, a way of safeguarding themselves in case I did anything with Utopia. They were treating me like an enemy, a threat to their future—even though I couldnʼt care less about their ambitions.

The last thing I wanted was another war, but I guess they were too paranoid to believe that.

Did they really think severing all ties between me and Sancta Vedelia—on both ends—would affect me?

They were gravely mistaken if they did.

I had no time to concern myself with Sancta Vedelia, not now.

My focus had to be on the final two Events of the Second Game.

[]

ʼWhy do you sound so amused by that?ʼ

Cleenahʼs voice carried a teasing lilt, as if she found the whole situation entertaining.

[]

ʼOi. Itʼs not like Iʼm trying to be hated.ʼ

[]

I scoffed. ʼWhy would I care about what random people think of me?ʼ

Cleenah giggled, her laughter light and melodic, yet laced with an unsettling undertone.

[]

Her words struck a nerve.

Ephera had told me something eerily similar once.

Had Cleenah glimpsed my memories? Seen that moment between Ephera and me?

A wave of nostalgia washed over me.

Ephera had always pushed me to stop caring about peopleʼs opinions, to do whatever I pleased. To be selfish. And for a time, I did. Those were probably the best years Iʼd had in a long while—years where I lived for myself, with no regard for anything else. Because as long as she was by my side, nothing else mattered. My life was above all others.

[]

Cleenahʼs voice pulled me from my thoughts.

A small, bitter smile formed on my lips.

ʼYeah… Maybe I did.ʼ

Or maybe… I was just scared.

Scared of becoming that Edward.

The Edward from the game—the one who cared only about himself and his ambitions, the one who discarded everything else as irrelevant.

But that wasnʼt me. At least, not yet. Iʼd had Ephera. Iʼd had friends. But here, in this world, I had lost them.

So was it really a good idea to drown myself in self-sufficiency? To sever every attachment in a world as dangerous as this?

No, that wasnʼt the real reason.

Ever since I completed that quest to recover Edward Falkronaʼs memories, everything had changed. I had gained something precious—a younger sister, childhood friends, people who saw me as more than just a name. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to prove to them that I wasnʼt that Edward. That I wasnʼt some woman-harassing tyrant. That I was a good man.

But the truth was… I wasnʼt trying to prove it to them.

I was trying to prove it to myself.

And now, after two years, I couldnʼt help but wonder—had it even been necessary?

The answer was clear.

I didnʼt need to prove anything.

I would never become the Edward from that game. I could say that with confidence.

So why was I so obsessed with making sure I didnʼt turn into him? Why was I letting that fear cloud my decisions, pushing me to act in ways that went against my instincts?

That damn game… It had painted such a terrible image of Edward.

I had disliked him from the start.

Ephera, though? She had always found him fascinating. She used to say he reminded her of me. At first, I didnʼt understand why, but looking back… I think I finally saw the resemblance.

It was that drive—the pursuit of my goals, no matter the cost. That selfish attitude. Some might call it arrogance, but for Ephera, it was something else entirely.

She loved it.

She loved seeing me live for myself, being sharp-tongued, selfish, and unapologetic.

I could still picture her mischievous smile whenever I acted that way.

What a weirdo…

A small, fond smile tugged at my lips at the thought of her.

And then—

”Hey! Look at this traitor!”

The voice behind me shattered the moment. My smile vanished instantly.