I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 461: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [3] Celesteʼs Worry

In the heart of Central Vedelia, a lone figure stood before the towering Holy Tree of Eden-a young beautiful woman of late teenage years. She wore a dress-like armor of light blue. Her hair, pure white as fresh snow, was tied in a high ponytail, its silken strands swept back to stay clear for future battles.

It was Celeste.

But today, the usual brightness in her teal-blue eyes had dimmed, giving way to a quiet sadness. She stretched out a hand, fingers brushing lightly over one of the countless roots that emerged from the Holy Tree of Eden, a web of living branches sprawling like veins through the sacred ground. As her hand made contact, a faint tremor ran through her, as if she had entered a strange harmony with the tree itself. Its essence pulsed faintly under her touch, and in that moment, she could feel it—an echo of its ancient heart, a whisper of its memories, and something more... emotions.

She hadnʼt realized this connection was even possible, yet now she was overwhelmed by it. She sensed feelings radiating from the Holy Tree, like raw waves crashing against her own heart: profound sadness, bitter betrayal, simmering anger, and a deep-seated hatred that simmered just beneath the surface.

What could it mean?

Were these emotions a response to the looming threat of Utopia, or was there something more, something buried within the treeʼs long history? The feelings seemed far too complex to be so simple.

”What do you expect from me?” Celeste murmured softly. She stared at the root beneath her hand as if hoping it might answer, but the tree remained silent.

Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching against the rough bark. ”Celes.”

The sound of her name, spoken gently, broke through her thoughts. Celeste turned, her gaze meeting the familiar figure of Amelia. Like Celeste, Amelia was clad in armor. These were not ordinary days; war loomed over them.

”What are you doing here?” Amelia asked softly, her eyes tracing the weariness in Celesteʼs face.

Celeste quickly withdrew her hand from the tree, turning away. ”Nothing... just... nothing.”

Ameliaʼs heart ached at the sight of her friend in such state. Gone was the lively, cheerful Celeste she once knew, the friend whose smile had lit up even the darkest days. The war had chipped away at her joy, piece by piece, eroding it under the weight of loss and the constant specter of death. She understood too well that Celesteʼs despair ran deeper than the battles that raged around them.

Amelia wished she could offer comfort, something to break through the darkness clouding Celesteʼs heart. But she knew the true reason for her friendʼs sadness. It wasnʼt just the war- it was ʼthemʼ, her father and Amael. She had tried to lift Celesteʼs spirits before, with empty reassurances, with small distractions. Yet, the truth lay between them unspoken:

Her father was alive, Celeste was sure of that, the Holy Tree told her.

But nobody knew about Amaelʼs state, not even the Holy Tree of Eden, despite Celeste knowing he was alive...

But if he was truly alright, if he was safe, then wouldnʼt he have already returned to Sancta Vedelia?

At last, Amelia moved closer to Celeste, wrapping her arms around her friend in a gentle, comforting embrace. Celeste stiffened momentarily, surprised by the gesture, but her expression softened as she leaned into the warmth. She managed a faint smile, one that held a flicker of her usual brightness, as she hugged Amelia back.

”Thank you, but Iʼm fine,” Celeste murmured.

Amelia gave her a small, reassuring squeeze. ”Letʼs go,” she said simply.

Together, they made their way down from the Holy Tree of Eden and toward the grand tower where Sancta Vedeliaʼs kingdom leaders and representatives had gathered, as they discussed the latest tides of war. A crowd had assembled in front, a mix of noble onlookers and concerned allies, including several of their classmates, waiting outside the tower.

Among them, Cylien, who had been conversing with Rodolf, noticed Celeste and Amelia approaching. Her eyes immediately filled with concern. ”Celeste...are you okay?”

Celeste offered a smile, but it was thin, her expression more strained than she intended. ”Ah... yes. Iʼm sorry for worrying you. I was just...looking around,” she replied though Cylien didnʼt miss the effort behind her smile. For now, however, she chose not to press further.

From a nearby bench, Victor, who sat beside Selene, cast a reproachful glance her way. ”Next time, at least tell us, Celes...” He said, his tone a touch sharper than he intended. There was a note of concern in his eyes that softened the words, though.

Victor was a close friend of Celesteʼs, and the constant worry over her weighed heavily on him. Her recent brush with Utopia had only intensified his concern; he couldnʼt ignore how Celeste had become a target, even more so since Amaelʼs disappearance. Though he understood the sorrow clouding her, he couldnʼt help but feel his own pangs of guilt for not being by their side when Amael had reappeared to battle. Maybe just maybe-things would have turned out differently if he had fought alongside him.

But deep down, Victor knew Amael had returned not only to defeat Durathiel but also to protect Celeste. In the chaos of battle, when Durathiel had been struck aside by a mysterious force, Victor seized the chance to pull Celeste from the scene, ignoring her pleas to search for Amael in the sea. He knew how reckless that would have been.

”Yes...” Celeste nodded, lowered her head.

Victor exhaled a heavy sigh, his frustration tempered by his own exhaustion and concern. He hadnʼt meant to be harsh, but his nerves were stretched thin, like so many of theirs were.

Even his own homeland had refused to join the alliance, leaving him alone in the fight against Utopia. It felt like a miracle that theyʼd even allowed him to stand beside his friends in this war.

Of course Victor had every intention to join the war whatever even the Head of the Raven House said. They lost Amael and Celeste was targeted, he couldnʼt even call himself their friends if he was just going to sit back and watch.

”Donʼt worry,” Selene murmured softly, squeezing Victorʼs hand as she noticed his clenched fists and the faint tremble of frustration running through him. The touch seemed to ease him, and he glanced down at her, his face softening as he returned her grasp with a faint, grateful

smile.

Nearby, Roda Moonfang stood, her arms crossed over her chest. She shifted uncomfortably, casting a quick look away as she watched Selene and Victorʼs quiet moment. There was a prickling in her chest, an unsettling feeling she couldnʼt quite shake. Jealousy. She couldnʼt

deny it anymore.

”How long are they going to drag this out, damn it?” Rodolf grumbled, slumping lazily onto a nearby bench. ”I didnʼt sign up for this endless waiting.” He was here to accompany his brother, Jefer Moonfang, before they parted ways to their respective battlefields. But the endless discussions and preparations were beginning to grate on his nerves.

”Patience is vital in times like these,” Cylien said with a soft sigh.

”A-Ah, yeah...” Rodolf stammered, his initial annoyance evaporating as he straightened up, looking meek under Cylienʼs gaze.

Roda watched her uncleʼs bravado crumble with a small, amused smile. She stifled a laugh, barely hiding the mirth dancing in her eyes. ”Look at you, Uncle-tough guy going all shy,” she teased with a mischievous grin.

Rodolfʼs face flushed as he tried to cover his embarrassment, grimacing. ”You wanna fight,

Roda?”

”Not in the slightest, Uncle,” Roda laughed, shaking her head.

From the side, Amelia crossed her arms, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she took in the scene. ”I never thought Iʼd live to see Rodolf go all bashful like that,” she smirked.

”Watch your mouth!” Rodolf shot up from the bench, his face red with flustered anger.

”Itʼs noisy here.” A low voice interrupted them.

Everyone turned to see John as he approached. Before anyone else could react, Ameliaʼs eyes widened, lighting up as she ran toward him and threw her arms around him.

”John! You have no idea how worried I was!”

John smiled a bit as he wrapped his arms around her in return. ”I was only gone a week.”

”Only a week? Come on!” Amelia swatted his chest lightly, though her playful scolding hid her relief. This was war, after all; even a day could spell disaster. Every absence could mean

death.

Rodolf watched their embrace with a huff, his expression darkening. He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes before he threw himself back down onto the bench with a loud, irritated sigh. Clearly, he had no interest in watching any more emotional reunions or maybe he just wanted to flirt like John with Cylien.

Amelia pulled back, glancing at John. ”So? Any news?” She shot a quick, meaningful glance toward Celeste, who had been waiting anxiously nearby.

Johnʼs gaze shifted to Celeste and shook his head. ”Thereʼs still no trace of him. I donʼt know

where he is, or even if heʼs safe.”

Celesteʼs face fell, her hope snuffed out in an instant. She lowered her gaze, struggling to hide the heartbreak that flickered across her face. This was the news she feared, but hearing it still hurt deeply. If anyone had doubted her feelings for Amael, it was clear now-they were etched in the sorrow in her eyes and the way she always sought any glimmer of news about him. Unlike her father, whose whereabouts were known but also the fact that as Head, he was a precious hostage, Amaelʼs fate remained unknown and he wasnʼt as immune as her father. Moreover he had been heavily injured before falling in the seas...