I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 636: [Event] [The Beauty And The Beast] [16] Celesteʼs Pain

There was something unique about him. Something I didnʼt understand.

And somehow, I couldnʼt look away.

The more time passed, the more I found myself unable to stop thinking about him.

It was strange—before the Alvara incident, I thought I understood who he was. Always watching, always thinking, like he had the world on pause while the rest of us stumbled forward. But when he faced Alvara head-on, something shifted. That mask of passivity cracked, and for the first time… I think I saw the real him.

A version of him that didnʼt hesitate.

Someone who didnʼt stop to ask for permission or worry about consequences.

Someone who moved on instinct, on conviction—and had the power to make it all mean something.

I still remember the day of the exam. It was chaos. He beat Adrian in front of everyone. And somehow, he managed to cancel Aliciaʼs engagement in the same breath.

I didnʼt understand it at the time. Why go that far for Alicia? What was he thinking?

But deep down, even if I couldnʼt admit it then, I knew what I felt.

It was envy.

Maybe slightly jealousy.

That deep, stinging kind that whispers in your ears late at night, telling you that youʼll never be the one someone fights for like that. That youʼll never be the reason someone throws everything away.

I guess I wanted that—no, I wanted him to do something like that for me.

But then I remembered that conversation between him and John.

He hadnʼt helped me because he cared—not in the way Iʼd foolishly hoped.

He did it because I was the Prophetess. Because of what I represented, not who I was.

And hearing that… it hurt more than I was ready to admit.

Maybe Iʼd built up a dream in my head. Maybe I wanted him to say he did it for me—for the girl, not the title.

But dreams like that are fragile things. And reality? It doesnʼt care how carefully you stack them.

He already had a fiancée back in his kingdom. And another one here and not just any fiancée—Elizabeth. She was beautiful, graceful, strong.

And despite my shock she seemed to be also returning his feelings.

I didnʼt stand a chance against that.

Why would someone like him risk everything for someone like me?

Unless… there were important reasons. Reasons like my role as the Prophetess. Thatʼs all I was, right? A symbol.

But then something happened.

Something I never expected.

When the Behemoth attacked—when that monster descended and everything turned to ash and terror—he came.

He didnʼt hesitate. He fought that man. He shielded me.

And all I could think, as I watched him struggle, was that I didnʼt want to see him hurt—not because I needed him as a protector or a symbol of salvation… but because I cared. Because I think, despite everything—despite all the reasons I shouldnʼt—I liked him.

Even when it made no sense.

Even when it made me feel small and foolish.

And then, he looked me in the eyes and said something Iʼll never forget.

”...I donʼt want the Prophetess.”

”I want you. I want you to be the Prophetess. Only you are acceptable. You are the best suited. No, you are the only one truly meant for it…”

”…because you are Sancta Vedeliaʼs Hope and my Hope.”

I donʼt think I ever truly felt like a girl until that moment—when he stood there, right in front of me, and said those words.

It was strange… almost surreal. Like the world had paused just for us, and for the first time, everything made sense. And I think—no, I know—that was when I really fell in love with Amael.

It didnʼt matter that we had grown up together, that he was my childhood friend. The boy I once knew was gone, and in his place stood someone else entirely. Someone flawed, intense, difficult, but real. The Amael I fell for wasnʼt perfect. He was complicated, mysterious, and sometimes frightening—but he saved me. And that was enough.

Because of him, I stopped dreading the weight of my title. For the first time since Mama passed away, I felt excited at the thought of becoming the next Prophetess. Back then, when I was just a little girl clinging to her motherʼs robes, I wanted to follow in her footsteps—purely out of admiration and love. But now… now my dream had changed. Maybe it had become something more selfish.

Because this time, I didnʼt just want to be the Prophetess for the sake of the people or the divine will. I wanted to be closer to Amael. I wanted to be his ʼHopeʼ, like he said.

I wanted to stand beside him—not behind him.

And even though I knew… even though I was painfully aware that there were already other women in his life, I couldnʼt bring myself to care. I just wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be someone special to him, someone unforgettable.

Thatʼs why I started doing things I never thought I would.

Me—bold, headstrong, always the one to speak her mind—I found myself hesitating in front of mirrors. Obsessing over small things like how I styled my hair, or the shade of blush I wore. I began paying attention to every detail—how my clothes fit, how my earrings matched, how my perfume lingered.

It felt ridiculous. And yet… it was exciting.

No one warned me that falling in love would be this exhilarating.

Each morning, I found myself looking forward to school like it was a festival. Just being in the same class as Amael made the day feel brighter. Seeing him, hearing his voice, catching those tiny glances—it was enough to keep me going.

But gods, what a numbskull he was.

At first, I thought he was ignoring me on purpose. That he was playing coy or teasing me, trying to keep me guessing. But no—he was just that clueless. He genuinely didnʼt see the signals I was throwing at him like confetti.

Still, I didnʼt stop. I couldnʼt.

Because every day with him felt like uncovering something new, something secret and thrilling.

Before Amael, I thought I had feelings for Victor. There was a time I genuinely believed that maybe Victor could be the one. But the moment Amael entered my life… everything changed. It was like Iʼd been chasing shadows and finally stepped into the sunlight.

Loving Amael was different.

It was wild. Intoxicating. Hot like fire and cold like fear all at once.

But then I began to learn things—things I never expected.

There was something inside him. Something dark. Something even he was afraid of.

Iʼll never forget the day he lost control. It was like watching a storm collapse in on itself, like witnessing something ancient and terrifying leak through the cracks of a person. I reached out to him that day, pulled him back from whatever void he had slipped into.

And in that moment, I realized… he wasnʼt invincible.

He wasnʼt some emotionless knight or untouchable savior.

He was human. He was scared. And he needed someone too.

When I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the tension leave his body in trembling waves, I only fell deeper. Even though Iʼd glimpsed a darkness I wasnʼt sure I was ready for, my heart didnʼt falter.

Because my love had already grown too deep to be scared away.

It had become stronger than the fear.

And somehow, even with all the danger and all the unknowns… I didnʼt want to let go.

Not of him.

Not ever.

I couldnʼt forget him anymore.

Even when he tried to distance himself from me—when he pulled away after sensing my fear—it only made my feelings stronger. That moment, when he stepped back thinking it would protect me, just confirmed how deeply I loved him. And that love didnʼt make me weaker. It made me bolder, more determined. I didnʼt want to run. I wanted to fight for him.

All I wanted was to know more about him—everything, even the parts he hid in the darkest corners of himself. I thought if I understood him fully, I could be the one to stand beside him when no one else would.

But after that day, I realized what was obvious: he was hiding things from me. And not just small things—real, terrifying truths buried behind that calm face. It hurt. I couldnʼt understand why he didnʼt trust me enough to let me in.

I loved him.

Didnʼt that mean something?

I wanted to support him, to share the burden. But no matter how many times I reached out, he stayed silent. Distant. Closed off. Still, I didnʼt give up. I kept trying, kept pressing forward. And during the war… for a moment, I thought I had finally reached him.

For a moment, I believed.

I thought when the war ended, when the dust settled and the world could finally breathe again—we would be closer than ever. It didnʼt matter what heʼd done for Utopia or the fact that he stood on the opposite side of Sancta Vedelia. I knew him. I trusted him. That was all that mattered.

So then…

Why?

Why did he reject me?

Why did it have to hurt so much?

It felt like I had been struck in the chest with a blade I never saw coming. His words, his coldness—it shattered something inside me. It was worse than I had imagined. And what made it even harder to bear was seeing him patch things up with Alvara right after.

Why was he being so cruel to me?

Why was I the one left behind?

Was I truly that undeserving of him? Was I not captivating like Alvara, or strong like Elizabeth? Was I just… forgettable?

He never gave me answers. Only silence.

Only distance.

I tried to smile. I tried to be strong. But every time I looked at him, I felt the sting of rejection. Every time I thought of what couldʼve been, I was reminded of what would never be.

I cried.

I cried more than Iʼd ever cried in my life since my motherʼs death. But not in front of him—I couldnʼt even speak to him anymore, let alone meet his eyes. Just seeing him, knowing I couldnʼt reach him, broke me again and again. He felt further away than ever before. A wall even higher, colder, had risen between us.

And I didnʼt know why.

Didnʼt I at least deserve an answer?

But none came.

Only silence.

And then… she arrived.

Layla. His fiancée. The one from his kingdom.

The moment I saw her, I understood. Or at least, I thought I did.

She was beautiful. Graceful. Regal. The kind of person who seemed destined for someone like Amael. Just like Alvara. Just like Elizabeth.

They were in a completely different world than mine. And suddenly, I didnʼt feel bold anymore. I didnʼt feel strong.

I felt small.

Unremarkable.

I started to believe that maybe I had never stood a chance to begin with. That no matter how much I loved him, I could never be enough for him.

My friends, Amelia and Cylien, had both found love. And I was genuinely happy for them. But their happiness only made my loneliness more unbearable. I smiled for them, laughed with them—but deep inside, the hollow ache kept growing.

But even like that I couldnʼt even bring myself to be angry at him, no matter how much I wanted to—no matter how much it wouldʼve made things easier. Because that day, when he hugged me—just for a fleeting second—I felt it. The loneliness. The fear. Something he carried.

And in that moment, I understood.

I couldnʼt hate him. Not even a little. Not even if I tried a thousand times.

Because no matter how much pain he caused me… I couldnʼt stop loving him.