I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 431  [Event] [Semester-Exam At Vanadias] [19] A Third Party

(<You can't really blame him just because he wants to help others, you know?>)

John clenched his fists. "I don't care about that. He's going to get himself killed if he keeps sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," he snapped, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "He can't help but throw himself into other people's problems. It's like he has some sick need to intervene every time, even when it's pointless. Last year was bad enough. He nearly got himself killed because he couldn't step back when he should've. And now, he wants to save Alvara? I never thought I'd hear something that stupid coming from him."

He shook his head.

(<Shouldn't you be happy about it, though, Jonathan?>)

John's brow furrowed. "Happy? About what?"

(<Come on, John. I know everything about you. You've always worried about Edward not being able to escape his fate—becoming the Main Antagonist of the Second Game. You even said you will kill him if he does. But right now? He's farther away from that destiny than he's ever been.>)

She was right—John knew it. He should be relieved. He'd spent so long dreading the day Edward would lose himself completely, succumb to the twisted path that had been laid out for him. And yet, here Edward was, trying to save someone. Trying to help. That compassion, buried under layers of cynicism and frustration, was still alive in Edward.

Edward still cared—perhaps more than John could ever claim to care. That was undeniable. His actions, however reckless, came from a place of deep empathy, of wanting to protect innocent people and even some not-so innocent ones, even if they didn't deserve it. John could understand why Layla had fallen so hopelessly in love with Edward, why her feelings had only grown stronger over a few months.

It was that same boy she had fallen for all those years ago—the one who, as a child, had crept into her room when she was sick, taking care of her without expecting anything in return. He had never shown off his kindness, never sought praise or acknowledgment. That quiet, selfless part of him hadn't changed at all.

And that was what worried John.

One day, Edward's luck would run out. Things wouldn't go his way, and when that day came, Edward might pay the ultimate price. His heart, as noble as it was, would lead him straight into the fire.

John didn't want that to happen. Not for Edward's sake, not for his sister's, who had made him promise to look after Edward. But also not for his own sake. Edward was more than a friend. He was the only person John could truly call a brother, he felt something similar that he felt toward Shayna.

"Hey! Look!" A voice suddenly cut through John's thoughts.

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he registered the commotion around him.

"It's—John!" "Let's get him!" John glanced to his left, eyes sweeping the area. Five figures were splitting off, quickly moving to surround him. Their grins were wide and clearly nervous though.

'Isn't the exam supposed to be individual?' John thought, confused for a moment.

John stood in the center of the clearing, his eyes narrowing in confusion as the five figures from the Blue Group rushed toward him. He belonged to the Red Group, so their aggression seemed nonsensical. What could they possibly gain by teaming up to take him down? Only one of them would be able to scan his fallen body if they succeeded, and with their combined strength, a few of them would definitely not escape unscathed. It was a foolish plan.

"Attack him!"

The shout rang out, and as if on command, all five surged forward, weapons at the ready, their movements fast but uncoordinated. John stood silently unfazed by the impending assault. He barely spared them a glance.

Without lifting a finger, a dark, ominous fire erupted from the ground beneath his feet, spiraling outward like the grasping tendrils of a hungry beast. The flames roared to life, surrounding John in a protective barrier of heat and shadow before surging toward his attackers.

The men barely had time to scream before they were swallowed whole by the searing black fire.

"Gyaaahhh!!"

Their cries of pain rang in the air.

Within seconds, the five collapsed to the ground, their bodies crumpling down. The fire, though restrained, had overwhelmed them with its oppressive intensity. One by one, they fell to their knees, their eyes rolling back as they passed out, unconscious.

John approached them calmly. He knelt beside each of the fallen men, efficiently scanning their screens without a second thought.

Once the task was done, he turned to leave, walking away quietly as if nothing had happened.

"Come on..."

"...!" A voice stopped John in his tracks. "At least put out the fire, would you?"

John whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise. One of the men—who had been sprawled out on the ground just moments ago—was now standing, unharmed, his body upright and steady. The flames that had knocked him unconscious flickered around him but left no visible marks of injury.

John's gaze narrowed as he took in the sight.

This wasn't normal.

Ordinary people—even the elites of Trinity Eden—couldn't recover from his flames so easily, especially when they hit directly. And even though he had held back, the fire should have been more than enough to keep them down.

Unless this man wasn't ordinary.

He couldn't place the face, but the presence felt familiar. John's eyes sharpened.

He was a vampire.

Not just any vampire.

"Prana?" John muttered, his brow furrowing as he stared at the figure. Vampires didn't use prana. He had never seen one wield it before. The vampire's lips curled into a wide smirk. In an instant, he was moving—faster than John anticipated. His body blurred, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. A fist shot out toward John's face.

John barely had time to react. He shifted his weight, narrowly dodging the punch and retaliating with a swift kick aimed at the vampire's head.

"Argh!" The vampire grunted as John's foot connected with the side of his skull, sending him stumbling backward. But the momentary pain didn't slow him down for long. He straightened, cracking his neck with a low growl. "You've gotten stronger. Annoyingly stronger," he said, his grin widening despite the blow.

"Ruah…"

John could see it now, swirling around the vampire's fists, intertwining with the prana. Then it hit him.

"You…" John's voice dropped into a low growl as recognition dawned on him. He had felt this Ruah before. Once. In a restaurant in Zestel. The night when Manuel Hylkren had attacked them, seeking to capture Celeste.

This wasn't just any random vampire. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Pierre," John muttered under his breath. Pierre—one of the Commanders of Behemoth.

Pierre laughed delightedly. "So, you remember me after all. I'm flattered. But now that you've recognized me, I'm afraid I can't let you live much longer."

"What's Behemoth doing here?" John asked coldly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Pierre smirked.

Before John could respond, Pierre surged forward, his fist glowing with Ruah. In one swift motion, he swung it through the air, unleashing a massive shockwave that ripped through the clearing toward John.

-BAM!

The force struck like a tidal wave. John raised his palm instinctively, trying to deflect the blow, but the impact was too great. The sheer energy sent him skidding back several meters, his boots digging into the dirt. A sharp, stinging pain shot through his arm, numbing it momentarily. 'He's still not removing his disguise,' John thought.

It was clear now—Pierre and Behemoth didn't want their presence revealed to the examiners or teachers watching from outside, at least not now. They were operating under the radar, infiltrating the exam for reasons unknown.

But that meant John was cut off. There was no way to alert anyone outside without abandoning the forest. If he did that, he would forfeit his ability to help the important people here, namely—Amelia, Edward, Victor, Celeste.

Amelia could already be in danger.

Edward and Victor might need him soon.

And there was no way he'd let Behemoth—or anyone else—get their hands on Celeste. She was the Prophetess, after all. Too important.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He had prepared for Utopia, sure—but Behemoth?

They were another level of trouble entirely.

What was their goal here? What reason could they have for targeting this exam?

He didn't know, and that gnawed at him.

-BAM!

John vanished from sight, reappearing in a blur of motion as he slammed his fist into Pierre's stomach.

"Argh!" Pierre gasped, blood spurting from his mouth as his body doubled over in pain. John wasted no time, grabbing his head and driving it into the ground with a sickening thud.

-BAM!

The earth shook as Pierre's face smashed into the dirt, leaving a shallow crater beneath him. John knelt beside him.

"Tell me why you're here," John asked.

Pierre coughed, struggling to speak but he laughed. "A-Aghh! You'll have to try harder, John Tarmias!"

Before John could react, Pierre's body erupted with a surge of Ruah. John quickly jumped back.

Pierre's muscles bulged grotesquely, veins throbbing as his frame expanded, returning to its original burly form. Even with his disguise intact, Pierre was back to his original body

'I don't have time for this!'

Every second he spent here was a second closer to disaster. If Behemoth was involved, Amelia, Edward, and maybe Celeste were all in immediate danger. He couldn't afford to waste any more time on Pierre's games. He needed answers. Now. And more importantly, he needed to warn Edward.