I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 728: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [10] Council of Heads

While the Blood Moon Festival bathed Ravenia in crimson light and laughter echoed through its streets, a far different atmosphere blanketed Central Vedelia. Inside the heart of Sancta Vedelia, the mood was grim, and serious.

Reunions between the Heads of the Great Houses and the most influential nobles had become almost routine—councils held one after another, sometimes twice a week. It had been that way ever since the end of the Utopian War, which had left scars both on the land and in the hearts of its people. Yet the meetings were meant to grow even more frequent after the shocking imprisonment of Lazarus Raven, a man once considered untouchable being one of the mighty Demigod and power of Sancta Vedelia.

No one could deny it anymore—Sancta Vedelia was in crisis.

The Continental Island that had stood proud and united under divine blessing was now cracking at the seams. A chain of wars, betrayals, and scandals had chipped away at the delicate balance the Council had worked so carefully to maintain. And now, with the world watching and enemies waiting for the slightest sign of weakness, Sancta Vedelia couldn’t afford even a moment of hesitation.

They were, after all, the keepers of the Holy Tree of Eden—a sacred power that placed them among the greatest of nations. To falter now would invite ruin.

Inside the marble council chamber, eight noble Houses were represented around a vast round table carved from whitestone:

Duncan Tepes, Jefer Moonfang, James Raven, Reiner Dolphis, Namys Elaryon, Tanya Teraquin, Melfina Indi Zestella, and Lydia Alea Olphean.

Presiding over them was Alector, the Guardian of the Holy Tree of Eden. Beside Duncan sat Claudia Tepes, his wife. Karl Dolphis leaned quietly against the wall behind his cousin, and Aerinwyn Elaryon, daughter of Namys and heir to her throne, stood in composed silence behind her mother.

Normally, such a gathering would have been smaller, more formal.

Evan Zestella would have attended in Melfina’s place, and Aerinwyn would have stood for her mother rather than with her. Claudia, too, would have had no reason to be here. But this was no ordinary council—this was crisis control.

Even James Raven, who had tried to avoid politics for years, had been forced to attend. His father’s imprisonment left him no choice, and his son, Cyril, was still far too young to carry such a burden.

”Has he said anything?” Claudia’s voice broke the silence, her question directed at Alector.

Everyone knew who she meant.

Lazarus Raven, the man who stood as one of the Leaders of Sancta Vedelia now rotted in a cell beneath Central Vedelia. Alector himself was overseeing his confinement.

Alector slowly shook his head. ”As silent as stone,” he said. ”He doesn’t speak, doesn’t protest. But the way he looks at us... it’s as if he doesn’t deny a single thing he’s done.”

A murmur spread through the room before Alea Olphean rose from her seat, her expression cold. ”Then let me interrogate him.”

Her words froze the air. Dozens of eyes turned toward her. The unspoken thought passed between them: Is she serious?

If there was anyone who shouldn’t be allowed near Lazarus Raven, it was Alea. Everyone here knew it. She might swear she could restrain her anger, but the moment she saw the man who had defiled her sister Thelma, every ounce of restraint would vanish. There would be blood before anyone could stop her.

”No, Alea,” Alector said at last, with a weary sigh.

”Why not?” She shot back, her voice trembling with rage. ”You’re keeping that monster alive—pampering him in a warm cell while the women he destroyed will never recover! He should have been executed the moment he was captured!”

”I’m not pampering him,” Alector replied calmly. ”He’s in chains, Alea. He can’t so much as lift a finger.”

”I hope you’re right,” Duncan Tepes said.

The room fell silent again. Even sitting, Duncan looked exhausted. His once-imposing aura was dimmed by the injuries he’d sustained during his battle with Lazarus Raven—a clash so destructive that it had reshaped the very land behind Ravenia.

Perhaps the fireworks and music from the Blood Moon Festival had hidden the truth from the common folk. To them, everything in Ravenia looked festive and peaceful.

But the truth was that two Demigods had fought, and the aftermath was nothing short of catastrophic. Sancta Vedelia was not as stable as it appeared.

”There’s no need to be worried about Lazarus right now,” Alector said. ”He’s not in any condition to fight back after what happened with Duncan. We didn’t even bother to heal him—he was sealed the moment he lost consciousness. Whatever he planned, whatever madness drove him, it ends there. He won’t be doing anything in his current state. His judgment will come in time, Alea. You don’t have to carry that burden yourself.”

Alea’s eyes darkened. ”His judgment?” She repeated, her voice trembling. ”His judgment is death—and nothing less. A slow, painful death. He should feel every ounce of the suffering he inflicted on my sister and the other women he destroyed.” Her gaze swept around the table. ”And I dare anyone here to show compassion to that trash.”

All eyes shifted, naturally, to James Raven.

The silence was unbearable for a heartbeat—until James finally spoke.

”I will never defend my father,” he said quietly. ”After what he’s done, there’s nothing left to defend. I’m a father myself—a father to a daughter. I know what that kind of pain means.” He raised his head, meeting Alea’s eyes. ”I’ll support a death sentence for him.”

The conviction in his tone startled even Alea. Around the table, the other Heads exchanged glances; there was no doubt he meant every word.

”The opposite would have been very disappointing,” Tanya Teraquin muttered right after with quiet disdain. Then, she added sharply, ”Though I’m surprised no one’s questioned why we haven’t interrogated him properly yet.”

She turned her gaze—pointed and cutting—toward James.

”T–Tanya?” Namys Elaryon looked taken aback, unsure where Tanya was heading with this.

”What?” Tanya said, her tone biting. ”Are you all seriously going to tell me that for years, he knew nothing about his father’s twisted appetites? About the horrors happening right under his own roof?”

A heavy silence followed her accusation.

Every gaze turned toward James again.

James opened his mouth, but no words came. He looked lost—his guilt plain to see.

He had been so focused on his duties as an academy instructor, so detached from the political filth of Ravenia, that he’d turned a blind eye to what was happening in his own House. Since his wife and daughter had left the capital, Ravenia had become nothing but a hollow place for him.

And in that emptiness, he had failed to notice the darkness festering in his father’s heart.

Maybe, just maybe, if he’d paid more attention, if he’d been a little less distant... he could have stopped it before it began.

But he hadn’t.

And the shame of that realization weighed heavier than any accusation.

”You speak a lot, Tanya,” Reiner Dolphis, glared at Tanya across the table. ”That’s rich coming from someone whose own kingdom openly sided with Utopia during the war.”

The jab struck home. Reiner’s words weren’t baseless; the betrayal of Kendel Teraquin, Tanya’s son, still haunted Vedelia. His treachery had nearly destroyed Dolphis territory, and Reiner had yet to forgive—or forget.

Tanya’s eyes narrowed, her tone turning glacial. ”I was the one betrayed, you stupid human.”

”By your own son,” Reiner shot back, his voice rising. ”Doesn’t that make it even more pathetic?”

Tanya’s chair creaked under her grip as her fists clenched tight against the table. For a second, it looked as if she might strike him across the face.

Before it could escalate further, Melfina Indi Zestella sighed sharply and leaned forward, her expression exasperated.

”Enough,” she said. ”We’re not children bickering over pride. This isn’t the time to turn on each other. If there was ever a moment we needed unity, it’s now.”

For a long, drawn-out moment, silence filled the room.

Reiner only grumbled under his breath, leaning back in his chair, while Tanya turned her gaze aside with an annoyed click of her tongue.

The tension hadn’t vanished—but it had settled. Barely.

”Good,” Alector finally said, his deep voice breaking the quiet. His expression softened slightly as he glanced toward Melfina. ”It’s been a while since I’ve heard that kind of reason in this room. I appreciate it.”

Melfina gave a small nod.

Alector’s gaze swept across the gathered Heads—leaders who, for all their differences, carried the weight of Sancta Vedelia’s survival on their shoulders. ”We have to rebuild,” he said. ”Not just walls and cities, but the faith of our people. We must pour our strength, our resources, and our hearts into cultivating the next generation of talents. The world must see that Sancta Vedelia doesn’t crumble—it rises stronger.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. ”That is why, once the Festival of the Blood Moon concludes, we will proceed with the summoning of our Hero of Eden.”

The statement sent a flicker of surprise through the room.

Duncan nodded once. ”During my stay with Edenis Raphiel, I was entrusted with the proper knowledge—and the sacred artifact—necessary to conduct the summoning.”

Reiner raised an eyebrow, his tone edged with reproach. ”So that’s why you were absent when your Kingdom was falling apart?”

Duncan’s gaze met his. ”It took longer than I anticipated,” he said. ”But the discussions I had with Edenis Raphiel... they weren’t without purpose. The fact that Eden himself granted us this gift—the right to summon a Hero—proves that he has not forsaken us. That alone should be enough.”

Around the table, a quiet wave of relief spread. Shoulders eased. Expressions softened.

To know that the Divine still watched over them—that Eden had not abandoned his chosen—was enough to rekindle a spark of faith.

For a moment, even Alector’s usually impassive expression showed something like pride.

”The gift of summoning,” he said thoughtfully, ”was what made Celesta and Edenis Raphiel flourish. It’s proof of Eden’s continued favor.”

”Then why didn’t we perform the summoning earlier?”

The voice came from Jefer Moonfang, who had remained silent until now.

”It was a matter of priority and timing,” Alector replied. ”A summoning of this magnitude can’t be done quietly. The World Summoning Ritual will be broadcast across all of Sancta Vedelia’s Kingdoms, followed by a grand ceremony dedicated to Eden himself.”

”I see,” Claudia said with a nod, her tone reflective. ”Then it’s fitting that it takes place right after the Blood Moon Festival. The timing couldn’t be better.”

”Exactly,” Alector continued. ”The ceremony will be funded and prepared collectively by all Kingdoms under our banner. It will serve as a symbol of unity—for our people to see that, even after the chaos, Sancta Vedelia stands as one.”

Nods of agreement followed. Despite their divisions, every ruler in that room wanted the same thing in the end: the restoration and prosperity of Sancta Vedelia.

Namys Elaryon then spoke up curiously. ”Tell me, Lord Alector,” she said, ”who else has received the World Summoning Spell besides us?”

”As of now, only the Kingdom of Celesta, Edenis Raphiel, and the Sunken Empire of Atlantis have been granted it. However...” He hesitated for a second, ”...it’s likely that other nations may have received it as well—or already completed their summoning in secret. Not every kingdom is eager to share such news.”

It was a bitter truth, but a truth nonetheless.

In this world, piety did not equal loyalty.

Even though they all worshipped the same supreme God, Eden, that didn’t mean they were allies. Faith was unity in name—but politics made enemies out of saints.

”Well,” Reiner muttered, leaning forward, ”as long as Utopia doesn’t get its hands on it.”

Claudia let out a soft laugh, a touch of sharp amusement in her voice. ”Utopia? Eden would never bless that forsaken nation. It’s a renegade kingdom—born from cowards who fled Sancta Vedelia, Eden’s holy grounds, centuries ago.” She smiled faintly, her tone dripping with disdain. ”They’ve already abandoned Eden once. I doubt He’d ever forgive that.”

”Let’s not waste time thinking about Utopia,” Alector said, cutting off the growing speculation. ”Our focus must remain on Sancta Vedelia.”

The others nodded in reluctant agreement, and the council resumed. For the next two hours, they continued, new policies were proposed, emergency decrees outlined, and resources allocated. Every decision, every word, was aimed toward one goal: rebuilding Sancta Vedelia stronger than ever before.

Of course, not everyone in the room agreed on every measure.

Old grudges lingered beneath their smiles. Yet, in the end, each of them was a ruler, and rulers knew when to put pride aside for the sake of survival. For now, at least, they acted as one.

When the final seal was pressed onto the council’s decree, chairs scraped softly against the marble floor. One by one, the nobles rose and began to leave the room.

Eventually, only Duncan Tepes and Claudia remained.

Alector, who had been watching through the tall windows, spoke. ”Was there something else, Duncan?” He asked without looking up.

”Yes,” Duncan replied. ”I believe we can no longer afford the arrogance that’s defined us in the past. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Alector finally looked at him. After a moment, he nodded slowly. ”I would.”

”Then,” Duncan said, ”we should awaken the Guardian Spirit.”

The air in the room changed instantly. Alector’s expression hardened, the calm in his face replaced by sharp disapproval.

”That,” he said coldly, ”is not the answer.”

He took a step closer, his voice deepening. ”You understand what that would mean, Duncan. To awaken the Guardian Spirit is to release the First Guardian and First Apostle.”

Claudia tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. ”And what, exactly, is wrong with that?”

Alector turned his gaze toward her, disbelief flickering in his eyes. ”You both know very well what happened eight centuries ago. The Humans were losing every war against the other races, beaten back again and again in their quest to seize Sancta Vedelia’s lands and the Holy Tree’s blessing. Then, out of nowhere, the tides turned.”

”Because of him. Because of the man who became the First Guardian.”

He let the silence stretch before continuing.

”That man’s power and madness is the reason Utopia exists today. And though his actions brought a fragile peace between races, it was only after our ancestors sealed him away—together with the First Prophetess’ help. The Holy Tree itself nearly fell out of control because of his actions. And now you want to remove that seal?”

’Do you know what had been sacrificed because of that man?’ Alector bit back the question remembering about the Goddess sealed inside the Holy Tree. ’What we had lost...’

Duncan sighed. ”We are not the same people our ancestors were, Alector. Sancta Vedelia has changed. We’ve grown stronger, more united. You said so yourself just moments ago.”

He leaned forward slightly. ”We’ll find a way to control it. But if we truly wish to restore our glory... we need the Guardian Spirit’s power.”

Alector’s hands tightened behind his back. He didn’t answer at first. His eyes moved to the massive stained-glass window depicting the Holy Tree of Eden, glowing faintly with its long white leaves. After a long pause, he turned away.

”No,” he said. ”You’re playing with forces that nearly destroyed our lands once. I won’t let it happen again.”

He began walking toward the room doors. But before he could leave, Claudia’s voice rang out.

What does the Council of Central Vedelia think of this?” She asked, her tone edged with irritation. ”You make it sound as if the decision’s already made.”

Alector stopped and turned his head slightly, giving her a stern look over his shoulder.

”I am the Guardian of the Tree, Claudia,” he said. ”When it comes to matters that concern Central Vedelia and the Tree, I have the last word.”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode from the room.