I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 720: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [2] Last Class Before Ravenia

The Academy of Trinity Eden was nearing the end of its academic year. All the written exams were finally over, and only one event remained—the final educational trip, set to take place in the Capital of Ravenia on the fourth day of the Blood Moon Festival.

Until then, the academy had returned to a quieter rhythm. Classes continued, though the air inside every hall felt lighter, tinged with the relief of students who knew the end was close.

Inside one of the grand lecture rooms, Harvey Indi Zestella stood before his class, lecturing about the origins of the Blood Moon Festival—a subject that naturally led him back to a familiar topic: the Blood Moon War. The two were bound together in history, one born from the ashes of the other.

Yet as he spoke, Harvey looked different from the proud, composed figure he once was. His face was thinner, his voice carried the faint rasp of exhaustion. Ever since his imprisonment during the Utopian War, he hadn’t been the same. The ordeal had left scars deeper than any visible wound. Though he hadn’t suffered much physical torture—being a noble from one of the Great Houses of Sancta Vedelia granted him some measure of restraint, the mental torment had been there. For a man of his pride and station, captivity was its own kind of slow death.

He had managed, somehow, to recover enough to stand before his students again. But deep down, Harvey knew he was no longer fit to lead his House. The fire that once guided him had dimmed. So, he did something few nobles of his rank would ever do—he stepped aside.

His son, Evan, now carried the responsibilities of the House, though Harvey still guided him from behind the scenes. When crucial decisions arose, it was still Harvey’s voice that echoed in the great halls of the Zestella estate. Fortunately, Melfina, his wise and steadfast mother, had agreed to advise Evan as well. With her experience and gentle authority, she ensured the young heir wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

As for Harvey, he had chosen a quieter path—returning to Trinity Eden Academy, where he resumed his duties as a teacher. Here, among students, old tomes, and the soft hum of mana in the air, he found a kind of peace.

Today, his lecture hall was filled with the Silver Class. Among the rows of polished desks sat familiar faces—Victor, Selene, Earth, and Cylien but his gaze, again and again, returned to the girl seated near the front.

His daughter. Celeste Indi Zestella.

She sat with perfect posture, her eyes fixed on the floating mana-script that displayed notes above her desk. Beside her, Cylien scribbled dutifully, but Celeste’s hand remained still. Her expression was unreadable not cold, but distant. Once, at the start of the year, she had been lively, her curiosity boundless. There was a quiet fire in her then, a brightness that seemed to draw the whole class together.

Now, that light was gone.

The room still felt heavy with the unspoken aftermath of the Utopian War and the incident in the Fangorian Capital. Everyone had lost something: friends, family, innocence. But Celeste... she had lost more than most.

The death of Elizabeth had been a wound that refused to heal. Then came the disappearance of Amael and Alicia, vanishing as if swallowed by the world itself. Each loss had chipped away at her spirit until there was little left of the girl she once was.

And as if fate had decided to be crueler still, she had been forcibly engaged to Cyril, a man whose arrogance and ambition made him perhaps the worst choice imaginable. Celeste hadn’t even been given the dignity of a voice in the matter. She was the Prophetess, after all—a title that, in the eyes of her family, stripped her of the right to choose her own future.

Her engagement had been sealed by the Heads of the Great Houses, all nodding in political approval while ignoring the quiet despair in her eyes.

Harvey paused mid-sentence, glancing at her once more. For a brief moment, he wasn’t a teacher—just a father watching the daughter he could no longer protect.

Harvey told himself, again and again, that his decision had been for Celeste’s own good. She was the Prophetess, the one destined to guide the future of Sancta Vedelia, and as such, she needed protection, both political and physical.

And in his mind, Cyril Raven had been the ideal choice. The Raven House, despite its complicated past and questionable methods, was still one of the most powerful families within the Great Houses. Their influence stretched across the capital, and their military strength remained unmatched. Binding his daughter’s fate to theirs would ensure her safety and, perhaps, the long-term stability of Sancta Vedelia itself.

That was what he told himself.

It was easier than facing the quiet truth that he had never once asked what she wanted. Actually he knew what she wanted but it was something impossible to happen.

Harvey looked at Celeste again, sitting quietly, her eyes distant, as if her soul had wandered somewhere far from the lecture hall. He sighed inwardly and forced himself to continue his lesson, hoping that, someday, she would understand. ’This was for her good,’ he thought. ’Someday, she’ll see that.’

Beside Celeste, Cylien sat in uneasy silence. She had never been good at comforting people. Amael would be the perfect candidate for that but he really vanished at the worst moment.

She knew how much Celeste had loved him. Anyone with eyes could see it. And now... he was gone.

Amael’s disappearance had shaken everyone, but for Celeste, it was something closer to betrayal. He hadn’t just vanished he’d disappeared with Alicia. To the rest of the academy, it looked like the two had simply run away together, eloping in the chaos following Elizabeth’s death.

But Cylien couldn’t bring herself to believe that.

’Nyr... just where the hell are you...’

The thought flickered bitterly through her mind.

Elizabeth’s death had been tragic enough, no one in Sancta Vedelia would ever forget it but Amael’s sudden disappearance afterward had only deepened the wound. From what she knew, he loved Elizabeth; it was plain in the way he looked at her. But would he truly vanish like that? Would he leave Celeste behind, leave them all behind, without a word?

No. Cylien shook her head slightly. Not willingly.

She let out a quiet sigh, careful not to draw attention. Everything in Sancta Vedelia felt heavier lately as if the skies themselves mourned. The once-bright ambiance around seemed draped in grey clouds of loss and exhaustion.

She did her best to be there for Celeste, but even she had begun to feel the weight of everyone else’s sorrow. Rodolph, for instance, had been acting strange since the attack on Fangoria. He’d always been lively and fierce, but lately he seemed distant, burdened by something deeper than grief. Elizabeth’s death had hit him hard, yes, but there was something else... something he wouldn’t talk about. Cylien could only stay by his side, offering silent comfort.

And he wasn’t the only one falling apart.

Cylien hesitated before glancing over her shoulder then stopped herself. She didn’t need to look. She already knew what she’d see.

Selene sat a few rows behind them, her gaze empty. She was barely holding herself together. Ever since the day Elizabeth, her twin sister, had died, Selene had become a shadow breathing, walking, existing, but never living.

The only thing anchoring her now was Victor.

If he left her side for even a moment, Selene’s composure would crumble. Victor understood that, and so he stayed with her—every day, every class, every breath. His arm often rested around her shoulders, a quiet reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

For Victor, Elizabeth’s death had been painful, but not shattering. She had been a friend but nothing more. It had hurt to lose her, yes, but he had found the strength to move forward, partly because Selene needed him.

And lately... he almost seemed happy again.

Cylien noticed it in his eyes, that faint spark of joy, that quiet relief that came from finally discovering something important. She was one of the very few who knew why.

Barely a week ago, Victor had uncovered the truth about his birth—a truth buried by years of silence.

He was not just a child of one House, but two. Half Raven, half Olphean—bloodlines from two of the Eight Great Houses of Sancta Vedelia ran within his veins.

And the woman who had given him life was none other than Thelma Olphean, elder sister of Queen Alea herself.

It was a revelation that had shaken him to his core. For so long, Victor had believed himself to be an orphan of lesser standing, someone fated to serve greater powers. Now, he carried noble blood of two Great Noble Houses.

But more than bloodlines, more than titles or noble heritage what mattered most to Victor was that, at long last, he had a mother.

At first, when he learned the truth of his birth, joy hadn’t come immediately. It had been confusion, disbelief... and pain. The story of his origin was not one of love, but of violence. He had been born from an act of cruelty, the victim of which was none other than his own mother.

The name that haunted his nightmares: Lazarus Raven, was not his grandfather as he’d once believed. He was, in truth, his father.

That realization had crushed him. Rage had burned through his veins, but beneath it all was something colder—fear.

After Lazarus’s imprisonment, Victor couldn’t bring himself to face Thelma. For so long, he had imagined what it might be like to meet her, to finally look into the eyes of the woman who had given him life. But now that he knew the truth... doubt gnawed at his heart.

Would she even want to see him?

Would she look at him and see her son or only the face of the man who had hurt her?

Would she hate him for existing?

Those thoughts followed him into every dream until the day he finally saw her, weak but alive, lying in a white hospital bed.

When their eyes met, Victor froze. His heart hammered painfully in his chest. He wanted to speak, but before he could, Thelma’s expression broke and she began to weep.

She reached out, trembling, and pulled him into her arms, holding him so tightly it hurt.

”My son... my precious boy...”

Her voice cracked as if every word carried years of longing.

And in that moment, every wall Victor had built crumbled. He buried his face into her shoulder and cried—tears he hadn’t known he’d been holding back. All the loneliness, the anger, the confusion—it all dissolved in the warmth of a mother’s embrace.

For years, he had believed she was dead—a nameless maid, lost and forgotten. He had lived without knowing a mother’s love, never realizing it still existed somewhere, waiting for him.

And now, finally, he could feel it.

Cylien, watching him from afar, couldn’t help but smile faintly at the memory. Among the endless sorrows that had swept through Sancta Vedelia lately, Victor’s reunion with his mother was perhaps the one bright thing. It reminded her that not everything was lost after all...

Her gaze drifted across the classroom once more, landing on another figure, Earth. Or rather, Jayce, as Amael had once told her.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her desk. Just seeing him stirred anger in her chest.

He had killed Shayna, and possibly Ephera as well. The thought made her stomach twist. But she didn’t do anything, as Amael told her to be careful around him.

So she kept her distance. Watched. Waited. Pretended she didn’t care even though every time she looked at him, she could feel the heat of anger rising behind her calm expression.

As the lecture came to a close, Harvey’s voice broke the silence.

”That’s it for today.”

He glanced at the rows of students, some already shifting restlessly in their seats.

”Tomorrow, we depart for Ravenia. I expect everyone to be here early. The teleportation circle will only remain open for a short time, so if you value your participation and your grades you’ll arrive in advance.”

A faint ripple of laughter passed through the class, quickly followed by the familiar rustle of bags being packed and chairs scraping the floor. The atmosphere lightened as everyone began chatting about the upcoming trip, their earlier somber expressions briefly replaced by excitement finally seeing the Blood Moon Festival.

One by one, they filed out of the classroom until only a few remained.

Celeste stood silently, gathering her things, when a quiet voice stopped her.

”Celeste, wait.”

It was her father.