I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 514: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [53] Eryon Plaidor

Eryon Plaidor

In the Elaryon Kingdom, the war raged with a violence unmatched by other regions of Sancta Vedelia. The conflict here wasnʼt just a battle between kingdoms; it was a bitter, internal struggle tearing the nation apart.

The reason?

The Elaryon Kingdom was divided in two.

Rolaem, the elder brother of Queen Namys, and his ambitious wife, Edea, had allied themselves with Utopia and Durathiel, conspiring to overthrow the existing monarchy. Their goal was clear: to transform Sancta Vedelia into an Elven-dominated domain, with Rolaem seizing the throne and putting an end to the matriarchal rule that had defined the kingdom for centuries.

Traditionally, the Elaryon throne had always been passed down to a Queen. Despite being the eldest sibling, Rolaem had no claim to the crown simply because he was a man. When Rolaemʼs sister-Bryelleʼs mother-passed away, the mantle of leadership fell to their youngest sibling, Namys.

This decision had enraged Edea the most. She had long harbored resentment over the kingdomʼs traditions and had worked tirelessly to convince her husband to side with Utopia. When the Elaryon Kingdom was at its most peaceful and unprepared, they struck.

Now, half of the kingdom lay under their control, including the capital, Eryon Plaidor.

Queen Namys and her loyalists, including her children Aerinwyn and Dentiel Elaryon, along with key nobles like Cylien, had no choice but to flee. Yet their retreat was not a surrender-it was a regrouping.

Determined to reclaim their kingdom, the rightful Queen and her forces launched an assault on Eryon Plaidor.

In a cruel twist of fate, it was the rightful rulers who now found themselves besieging their own capital, while the invaders fortified themselves within its walls.

Namys, Aerinwyn, and Dentiel led the charge, rallying soldiers still loyal to their cause.

On the opposing side, Rolaem and Edea commanded the Utopian-Teraquin army.

In front of the towering carved wooden gates of Eryon Plaidor, Namys and Rolaem clashed. After another strike, they leapt back.

Namys, her breath uneven and her face marred with exhaustion, gripped her staff tightly as she faced her elder brother. Despite her strength, the truth was painfully clear-Rolaem was even stronger.

Her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke. ”Why, brother?”

For two months, this question had haunted her, unanswered. She couldnʼt understand how Rolaem could betray his blood, his family, for something as transient as a throne.

Rolaemʼs expression darkened as Namys pressed on. ”Before I ascended the throne, I asked you—didnʼt I? I asked if you wanted to be King. And you told me no.”

Rolaemʼs fists clenched at her words. He had indeed refused her offer back then.

”Then why?” Namys asked, her voice rising. ”Why now? Why attack your own family, your niece, your nephew?” She gestured a bit away, where Dentiel and Aerinwyn fought against Edea, their aunt.

Before Rolaem could respond, Edea descended gracefully beside him, her glare fixed on Namys. ”Donʼt let her get into your head, husband,” she said coldly.

”Edea...” Namys called softly. She had always felt her sister-in-lawʼs disdain, but seeing it so brazenly displayed now was hurting her. Even though she did her best to get along with her.

Edeaʼs lips curled into a mocking smile. ”If he had said yes to your offer, do you truly think the nobles would have accepted it?” She let out a bitter laugh. ”Traditions that have stood for centuries wouldnʼt crumble just because you willed it so.”

Namys faltered, unable to refute her. Deep down, she knew Edea was right. Her proposal, born out of love for her brother, had been naïve. The Elaryon House had been established by a woman—the first Elaryon Queen-and since then, the crown had always passed to her female descendants. The kingdomʼs identity, its legacy, was entwined with this unbroken line of matriarchal rule.

”You see? Even if he wanted it, your offer was meaningless.” She stepped closer to Rolaem.

”Even so... was this truly the only way?” Namys asked trailing off. ”We could have talked it out. If it really bothered you, you could have talked to me, we could have found a solution together.”

Edea scoffed in disdain. ”What world are you living in, Namys? Itʼs this kind of naivety that led to your pathetic defeat in Edenis Raphiel. People change. Kleines looked at you like a sister as well but he didnʼt hesitate to raise his hand against you. People change. Those days are long gone. You need to accept that.”

Namys bit her lip, her hands trembling as she shook her head. ”If you truly want the throne, brother, Iʼm willing to give it to you. But please, letʼs end this senseless battle between family.”

”...!” Rolaemʼs eyes widened in shock at her words.

”No,” But Edea interrupted coldly, shaking her head. ”The people of Elaryon will never stop revolting as long as you remain in their sight, Namys. To them, youʼre nothing but a symbol of their suffering.”

”W-What?”

Edeaʼs gaze hardened as she continued. ”You must make an official statement relinquishing the throne to Rolaem. After that, you will leave Sancta Vedelia with your children and you will never return.”

”...!” Namys was dumbfounded. ”W-What are you saying? Eryon Plaidor is my home! My childrenʼs home!”

”I knew youʼd resist,” Edea said, shaking her head as though Namys had just confirmed her worst suspicions. ”In that case, we settle this the old way-through blood. Letʼs fight to the

death.”

Namys turned toward Rolaem, her eyes pleading for an answer, but the man said nothing. His conflicted expression spoke volumes, though it was not the reassurance she sought.

”Why waste your breath on these miserable traitors, Mother?”

The sneering voice of Aerinwyn rang. She stepped forward, her mocking gaze aimed directly at Edea. ”Cry all you want, Edea, but it changes nothing. My mother will remain Queen, and when her reign is done, it will be my turn. As for you and your husband, youʼll rot in prison, staring at the beautiful lands of Eryon Plaidor from your cell.”

Aerinwyn had always suspected and hated Edea, and now she saw no reason to hold it back.

”You insolent little brat!”

-BAM!

Edea vanished in an instant, her figure reappearing dangerously close to Aerinwyn. Before the younger woman could react, Edea struck, sending her reeling backward.

Meanwhile, Dentiel stepped protectively beside his mother. He knew Namys wouldnʼt stand a chance against Rolaem in direct combat. If she was to survive this, he would have to assist her.

As for Aerinwyn, he cast a glance toward his sister. She stood at the peak of the 8th Ascension. She would handle Edea, he was certain.

***

A few miles away from Eryon Plaidor, nestled in a small, war-untouched town shielded by Namys and her forces, a lone figure treaded quietly along the cobblestone road. The youth had a hood pulled low over his face, and his hand rested on the hilt of a sword that hung by his

side.

The townʼs atmosphere was bleak despite its relative safety. Though spared the immediate ravages of war, its people bore the weight of the war. The streets were lined with women, children, and the elderly. The men capable of lifting a sword had marched to war, leaving their families behind to fend for themselves.

Amid this, Allen Teraquin walked silently. He had arrived in the Kingdom of Elaryon several weeks ago, driven by a peculiar purpose.

Every so often, Allen glanced over his shoulder, his gaze scanning the streets. Though no one seemed to be following him, a nagging sense of unease gnawed at him. He took no chances, weaving through the townʼs alleys, visiting random shops, and performing mundane tasks- all to shake off any potential tail.

After nearly an hour of this misdirection, Allen finally felt secure. He quickened his pace and continued for another half-hour until he reached a modest house on the outskirts of town. The door was tightly shut, and mana circles glimmered faintly around its frame-a barrier designed to keep intruders at bay. Allen reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, weathered book. It was the one Alvara had given him, and within its pages, a mana-imbued key lay hidden.

He carefully extracted the glowing key and pressed it against the doorʼs center. The mana circles flickered before dissolving into nothingness. The door unlocked with a faint click, and Allen slipped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him and reactivating the protective

barrier.

”Elder Brother?” A soft, familiar voice called from deeper within the house.

”Itʼs me, Bryelle,” Allen answered as he stepped further inside.

Moments later, a young girl entered from the living room, her wheelchair gliding smoothly across the floor. Her face lit up with a radiant smile as she greeted him.

”Good morning, Elder Brother,” Bryelle said cheerfully.

Allen returned her smile faintly, lifting a bag he had been carrying. ”Yeah... good morning. I brought you a few things to eat. Itʼs not exactly royal cuisine, though.”

Bryelleʼs eyes sparkled as she took the bag from him. ”It doesnʼt matter! Anything you bring me is perfect, Elder Brother,” she said, her smile brighter than ever.