I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 681: [Blood Moon War] [25] Amaya’s Identity

”Edward.”

”Hm...?” I cracked open my eyes, still hazy with sleep, only to find Amaya’s face barely an inch from mine, her red eyes peering into me curiosly.

It took a second, but once my vision focused, I realized I was resting on something soft and warm... softer than a pillow. I tilted my head slightly and—oh. I was lying on Amaya’s lap.

Her thighs, to be exact.

”...Why am I sleeping on your lap?” I asked, trying to stifle a yawn, but failing miserably. My whole body still felt heavy, like I had just wrestled with a mountain and lost.

Instead of answering, Amaya tilted her head. ”Who is Nemesis?”

I blinked, caught off guard. ”What?”

”You were whispering that name in your sleep,” she said. ”You sounded like you were in pain... and then you mumbled something like ’you are beautiful, Nemesis’ and then you started making weird noises like—”

”A–Alright, Stop!” I cut her off, my face suddenly heating up.

A wet dream? About that creepy goddess who wants to brainwash me into her previous lover?!

What the hell is wrong with me?

Amaya wasn’t done though. ”Who is Nemesis?”

I groaned, sitting up and finally removing my head from her lap. ”Someone you’re better off never knowing about,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

The inside of the carriage was dim. I looked around, trying to piece together where we were. I remembered passing out after riding for what felt like forever. I must’ve crashed the moment we got inside the carriage. Apparently, Amaya decided to tag along and turn herself into a makeshift pillow.

I still felt oddly exhausted, like I had been dreaming for days. And not normal dreams either—those damn memories again. Of Samael. As if I was him. As if I’d lived through his battles, his thoughts, his damn regrets.

”Have we arrived?” I asked, stretching my arms with a tired groan.

Amaya nodded and glanced out the window. ”Yes.”

”Seriously?” I blinked. ”Already?” That didn’t seem right. We hadn’t even been on the road for two days.

Maybe we used a teleportation circle at some point and I just slept through the whole thing. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.

I pulled back the curtain and peeked outside.

Huh.

I didn’t recognize a single thing.

The Olphean Kingdom, or at least this part of it, looked totally unfamiliar. Then again, I’d only ever been to the major cities, tagging along with Alea and Christina when I had to make appearances as the so-called heir of House Olphean. Thinking about those days now just left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I stepped out of the carriage and stretched again. A cool breeze swept across my face, crisp and refreshing, almost unnaturally clean.

That might’ve been one of the rare perks of being in the past—the air was still untouched by the choking stench of industry or mana vehicles. Too bad the Blood Moon hanging overhead cast an ominous red glow over everything. Kind of killed the whole ’fresh air’ vibe.

I looked around and noticed the others had already gathered a short distance away. Viessa and Cleara were speaking with someone. I trudged toward them, along Amaya.

”Ernest had to stay behind,” I heard Viessa say.

”Still overworking himself isn’t he?” A woman’s voice mumbled.

”Yes,” Viessa said with a soft smile.

”Move,” I said a little more bluntly, nudging one of the knights aside.

Finally, I reached the group. And right in front of Viessa stood a couple—an older man and woman. The man had white hair and eyes the color of amber. The woman had golden-blonde hair and eyes as blue as the summer sea.

Judging from their regal clothing and how everyone was acting around them, I figured they must be the current King and Queen of the Olphean Kingdom.

In other words, Ernest’s parents.

Before I could say anything, the Queen’s eyes widened. ”Ah...!”

And then she threw herself at me.

”Ernest, my child! You came back to mommy!” She cried, wrapping her arms around me with motherly passion.

”W–Wait, what?!” I gasped, awkwardly trying not to get smothered by royal affection.

”I was so worried! Don’t ever do that again! Do you know how your father—”

”My Queen,” Viessa intervened gently, barely holding back laughter. ”He’s not Ernest.”

”...Eh?” The Queen blinked, pulled back slightly, and stared at my face. After a pause, she nodded slowly. ”Ah... indeed he is not.”

”How the hell did you confuse me with your son?” I groaned, completely bewildered.

”Well, you have the same white hair and amber eyes,” she replied, smiling sweetly. ”And you do resemble my Ernest just a bit. It made me feel strange.”

I scowled. ”Me? Looking like that guy?”

Before I could voice my disdain any further, Viessa nudged my head down in an exaggerated bow and stepped in. ”Let me properly introduce him: Edward Olphean. Or... Mael. Or Amael. Honestly, he goes by whatever name he feels like.”

”Ah, I see,” the Queen said, her expression lightening. ”Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you... Mael.”

Why does nobody pick Edward?!

”Wait... Viessa, did you just say Olphean?” The King frowned as he stepped toward me. His amber eyes narrowed. ”That shouldn’t be possible...” He muttered under his breath. ”And yet... you do carry my blood. Strongly.”

Viessa stood beside me. ”Edward said he was raised in Edenis Raphiel and came here for...” She hesitated, casting a quick glance at me, ”...well, something.”

The King raised an eyebrow. ”Raised in Edenis Raphiel? That’s... surprising.”

I didn’t blame him for being skeptical. Edenis Raphiel and Sancta Vedelia were bitter enemies like in a cold war. So yeah, someone like me showing up with Olphean blood, raised by their rivals, definitely threw a wrench into everyone’s expectations.

”Whatever,” I waved it off. ”Where’s the Prophetess? Is she safe?”

The King nodded. ”Indeed. She’s at the castle.”

Cleara, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. ”We heard strange disappearances have been happening here.”

The King’s expression darkened slightly. ”Yes... they have. Let’s discuss it further inside the castle. Come.”

As he turned to lead the way, the Queen approached me again with a smile. ”If I had another son,” she said, her voice light and sincere, ”he would definitely look like you.”

I gave her a side glance. ”Aren’t you scared of her?” I asked, nodding subtly toward Amaya, who was walking nearby.

”Why should I be? She seems like a lovely girl. Is she your wife, perhaps?”

I choked slightly. ”No, she’s not.”

The Queen tilted her head as if still curious. Meanwhile, Amaya was walking sipping something from a tall glass container through a straw. The reddish-pink liquid glowed faintly in the light. It looked like some watermelon juice—hello no it wasn’t.

It was Alicia’s blood.

How much had Alicia given her?

I’d offered Alicia my own blood before leaving, enough to last a few days... or at least I hoped it would be enough. It wasn’t fresh from the source, so it wouldn’t be as potent. Still, she should be able to manage until I returned since I also let her fed on my neck before leaving.

The Queen’s voice broke my thoughts again. ”Have you met my son? Isn’t he remarkable?”

I gave a small, unamused snort. ”He’s... half pathetic, honestly. But yeah, I guess he’s impressive in his own way.”

The Queen puffed her cheeks indignantly. ”Hey! That’s my son you’re talking about. You shouldn’t speak like that. If I were your mother, I would’ve scolded you right now.”

”I don’t have a mother,” I said quietly. ”So... you don’t need to worry about that.”

The Queen froze in her tracks. For a moment, her expression shattered into something like compassion.

”...Father?” I heard her whisper behind me.

I clenched my fists and turned slightly, but didn’t look back. ”I don’t have a mother. I don’t have a father. No siblings. No family. None of that.” I forced the words out, harsher than I intended. ”Now can you please just leave me alone?”

I walked off before she could say anything else.

What was she trying to do? Figure out whether I was lying about Edenis Raphiel? Of course it was a lie. A big one. But I wasn’t about to give her the truth on a silver platter.

I raised my eyes and saw Viessa standing a short distance ahead, arms crossed, lips pressed together. Her gaze locked onto mine. When I reached her, she stepped forward and held out her hand toward me.

I reached out and grabbed it—but not to shake it.

I just stopped her.

”I’m not your brother,” I said sharply. ”And I’m not his replacement.”

Viessa didn’t pull her hand away.

She simply smiled, soft and warm. ”I know.”

Then, with the same hand, she reached out and ruffled my hair gently like I was some moody stray dog.

”...What are you doing?” I muttered.

”Just because you’re not my brother doesn’t mean I can’t treat you however I like,” she said with a wink.

I had no response for that.

Viessa’s expression turned tender. ”I know what it feels like to lose people. To feel truly alone. When my brother died... I wanted to scream. Burn everything. Collapse. I would’ve... if no one had reached out their hand toward me.”

”I’m not that weak,” I replied.

”Even so,” she said, stepping closer, her fingers brushing my cheek gently, ”you still deserve love, Edward. You deserve every bit of affection this world can offer. Never let yourself think otherwise.”

Her touch was warm.

And in that moment, I finally understood.

I understood why I cried when she said those words to me in the future and died in my arms. I could see why I grew to care about her

Viessa reminded me so much of my mother. Not the one from this world—but my mother from Earth.

She had always known exactly what I was feeling, even when I tried to hide it. She stood behind me in silence, letting me pretend I was strong, letting me fall when I needed to—but always ready to catch me before I hit the ground.

She never hovered, never coddled. She let me walk my own path, stumble when I had to. But when it mattered most, her hand would be there.

Just like Viessa’s.

Well... maybe she wasn’t as overly affectionate as Viessa but there was something oddly similar about them. The way they talked, the way they stared at you like they saw something deeper.

”Besides,” she grinned at me, ”I’m sure you still have people you can call family at your side... don’t you?”

Now I started regretting ever speaking about my family situation.

Instead of answering, I tilted my head, dodging her hand that was about to ruffle my hair again. ”How about focusing on your duties instead of playing therapist?”

Viessa clicked her tongue. ”I know that!” She huffed, turning on her heel and walking off.

Sometimes, I honestly questioned whether she really had Teraquin blood running through her veins. Sure, her hair color matched the line, but beyond that? It was hard to see the resemblance. Her descendants were literal sadist—Queen Tanya, Alvara, Kendel.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Bryelle ended up soft and sweet thanks to her Elaryon side. Not that the Elaryon bloodline was all sunshine either—Aerinwyn was living proof of that. But still... Queen Namys, Cylien—they were good people.

As I stood there thinking, I heard a soft voice cut through my thoughts.

”You don’t have any family?”

Amaya’s voice.

I turned my head toward her. She was standing beside me, sipping Alicia’s blood from a cup with a straw like it was some kind of strawberry milkshake.

”Something like that,” I replied, then shot the question back. ”What about you?”

She took another sip then gently removed the straw from her lips. ”I had a mother but they killed her.”

I paused. ”They?”

”Rucain,” she said simply.

Rucain...?

The Regent King of the Witch’s Empire?

”Who is Rucain?” I asked, trying to connect the dots.

Was it Cain?

Did he take another name like I had? If he really did come back to the past, maybe he’d reinvented himself too.

Before I could spiral further into theories, I decided to ask something more pressing. ”Why are they after you?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

Maybe I’d overstepped.

Maybe it was too soon.

But then she said it.

”The Vampire Witch is dying. She needs a new body.”

I blinked. ”Wait... you’re her vessel?”

So... she was like Selene?

”Vessel?” Amaya repeated, tilting her head.

The word seemed foreign to her.

”I mean... you’re the body meant for the Vampire Witch’s reincarnation, right? So she can live again? But—wait—she’s still alive, isn’t she?” I asked, trying to piece together the fragments.

Amaya nodded slowly. ”Since I was a child, I’ve had memories... of past Vampire Witches. Their lives. Their deaths.”

In my case, a new Vessel of Samael would be born after the previous dies.

I frowned. ”Then what’s the difference between you and the current Vampire Witch?”

”She is the first. The original,” Amaya explained. ”Her body is still in Valachia’s capital. She’s alive... but only barely. That body is too old. It’s crumbling. She can’t regain her youth in it. But she can keep living—through sufficient blood.”

”So you’re... one of those others? A ’fitting body,’” I said, carefully choosing my words. ”But... aren’t there more like you?”

”Others?” She echoed, puzzled, and took another sip of blood.

I tried to explain. ”I mean...the Vampire Witch’s power is split right. Vessel and Power?”

In the present, Selene was the vessel. Elizabeth had the power.

I leaned forward slightly. ”So if you’re the vessel now... who holds the power?”

Amaya’s crimson eyes met mine. ”Power... content of power? I don’t really understand what you mean, Edward.

”You don’t feel anything? Like something inside you?”

She nodded. ”I was born with both.”

What?