I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 461: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [3] Celeste's Worry



In the heart of Central Vedelia, a lone figure stood before the towering Holy Tree of Eden-a young beautiful woman of late teenage years. She wore a dress-like armor of light blue. Her hair, pure white as fresh snow, was tied in a high ponytail, its silken strands swept back to stay clear for future battles.

It was Celeste.

But today, the usual brightness in her teal-blue eyes had dimd, giving way to a quiet sadness. She stretched out a hand, fingers brushing lightly over one of the countless roots that erged from the Holy Tree of Eden, a web of living branches sprawling like veins through the sacred ground. As her hand made contact, a faint tremor ran through her, as if she had entered a strange harmony with the tree itself. Its essence pulsed faintly under her touch, and in that mont, she could feel it—an echo of its ancient heart, a whisper of its mories, and sothing more... emotions.

She hadn't realized this connection was even possible, yet now she was overwheld by it. She sensed feelings radiating from the Holy Tree, like raw waves crashing against her own heart: profound sadness, bitter betrayal, simring anger, and a deep-seated hatred that simred just beneath the surface.

What could it an?

Were these emotions a response to the looming threat of Utopia, or was there sothing more, sothing buried within the tree's long history? The feelings seed far too complex to be so simple.

"What do you expect from ?" Celeste murmured softly. She stared at the root beneath her hand as if hoping it might answer, but the tree remained silent.

Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching against the rough bark. "Celes."

The sound of her na, spoken gently, broke through her thoughts. Celeste turned, her gaze eting the familiar figure of Alia. Like Celeste, Alia was clad in armor. These were not ordinary days; war lood over them.

"What are you doing here?" Alia asked softly, her eyes tracing the weariness in Celeste's face.

Celeste quickly withdrew her hand from the tree, turning away. "Nothing... just... nothing."

Alia's heart ached at the sight of her friend in such state. Gone was the lively, cheerful Celeste she once knew, the friend whose smile had lit up even the darkest days. The war had chipped away at her joy, piece by piece, eroding it under the weight of loss and the constant specter of death. She understood too well that Celeste's despair ran deeper than the battles that raged around them.

Alia wished she could offer comfort, sothing to break through the darkness clouding Celeste's heart. But she knew the true reason for her friend's sadness. It wasn't just the war- it was 'them', her father and Amael. She had tried to lift Celeste's spirits before, with empty reassurances, with small distractions. Yet, the truth lay between them unspoken:

Her father was alive, Celeste was sure of that, the Holy Tree told her.

But nobody knew about Amael's state, not even the Holy Tree of Eden, despite Celeste knowing he was alive...

But if he was truly alright, if he was safe, then wouldn't he have already returned to Sancta Vedelia?

At last, Alia moved closer to Celeste, wrapping her arms around her friend in a gentle, comforting embrace. Celeste stiffened montarily, surprised by the gesture, but her expression softened as she leaned into the warmth. She managed a faint smile, one that held a flicker of her usual brightness, as she hugged Alia back.

"Thank you, but I'm fine," Celeste murmured.

Alia gave her a small, reassuring squeeze. "Let's go," she said simply.

Together, they made their way down from the Holy Tree of Eden and toward the grand tower where Sancta Vedelia's kingdom leaders and representatives had gathered, as they discussed the latest tides of war. A crowd had assembled in front, a mix of noble onlookers and concerned allies, including several of their classmates, waiting outside the tower.

Among them, Cylien, who had been conversing with Rodolf, noticed Celeste and Alia approaching. Her eyes imdiately filled with concern. "Celeste...are you okay?"

Celeste offered a smile, but it was thin, her expression more strained than she intended. "Ah... yes. I'm sorry for worrying you. I was just...looking around," she replied though Cylien didn't miss the effort behind her smile. For now, however, she chose not to press further.

From a nearby bench, Victor, who sat beside Selene, cast a reproachful glance her way. "Next ti, at least tell us, Celes..." He said, his tone a touch sharper than he intended. There was a note of concern in his eyes that softened the words, though.

Victor was a close friend of Celeste's, and the constant worry over her weighed heavily on him. Her recent brush with Utopia had only intensified his concern; he couldn't ignore how Celeste had beco a target, even more so since Amael's disappearance. Though he understood the sorrow clouding her, he couldn't help but feel his own pangs of guilt for not being by their side when Amael had reappeared to battle. Maybe just maybe-things would have turned out differently if he had fought alongside him.

But deep down, Victor knew Amael had returned not only to defeat Durathiel but also to protect Celeste. In the chaos of battle, when Durathiel had been struck aside by a mysterious force, Victor seized the chance to pull Celeste from the scene, ignoring her pleas to search for Amael in the sea. He knew how reckless that would have been.

"Yes..." Celeste nodded, lowered her head.

Victor exhaled a heavy sigh, his frustration tempered by his own exhaustion and concern. He hadn't ant to be harsh, but his nerves were stretched thin, like so many of theirs were.

Even his own holand had refused to join the alliance, leaving him alone in the fight against Utopia. It felt like a miracle that they'd even allowed him to stand beside his friends in this war.

Of course Victor had every intention to join the war whatever even the Head of the Raven House said. They lost Amael and Celeste was targeted, he couldn't even call himself their friends if he was just going to sit back and watch.

"Don't worry," Selene murmured softly, squeezing Victor's hand as she noticed his clenched fists and the faint tremble of frustration running through him. The touch seed to ease him, and he glanced down at her, his face softening as he returned her grasp with a faint, grateful

smile.

Nearby, Roda Moonfang stood, her arms crossed over her chest. She shifted uncomfortably, casting a quick look away as she watched Selene and Victor's quiet mont. There was a prickling in her chest, an unsettling feeling she couldn't quite shake. Jealousy. She couldn't

deny it anymore.

"How long are they going to drag this out, damn it?" Rodolf grumbled, slumping lazily onto a nearby bench. "I didn't sign up for this endless waiting." He was here to accompany his brother, Jefer Moonfang, before they parted ways to their respective battlefields. But the endless discussions and preparations were beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Patience is vital in tis like these," Cylien said with a soft sigh.

"A-Ah, yeah..." Rodolf stamred, his initial annoyance evaporating as he straightened up, looking ek under Cylien's gaze.

Roda watched her uncle's bravado crumble with a small, amused smile. She stifled a laugh, barely hiding the mirth dancing in her eyes. "Look at you, Uncle-tough guy going all shy," she teased with a mischievous grin.

Rodolf's face flushed as he tried to cover his embarrassnt, grimacing. "You wanna fight,

Roda?"

"Not in the slightest, Uncle," Roda laughed, shaking her head.

From the side, Alia crossed her arms, her eyes sparkling with amusent as she took in the scene. "I never thought I'd live to see Rodolf go all bashful like that," she smirked.

"Watch your mouth!" Rodolf shot up from the bench, his face red with flustered anger.

"It's noisy here." A low voice interrupted them.

Everyone turned to see John as he approached. Before anyone else could react, Alia's eyes widened, lighting up as she ran toward him and threw her arms around him.

"John! You have no idea how worried I was!"

John smiled a bit as he wrapped his arms around her in return. "I was only gone a week."

"Only a week? Co on!" Alia swatted his chest lightly, though her playful scolding hid her relief. This was war, after all; even a day could spell disaster. Every absence could an

death.

Rodolf watched their embrace with a huff, his expression darkening. He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes before he threw himself back down onto the bench with a loud, irritated sigh. Clearly, he had no interest in watching any more emotional reunions or maybe he just wanted to flirt like John with Cylien.

Alia pulled back, glancing at John. "So? Any news?" She shot a quick, aningful glance toward Celeste, who had been waiting anxiously nearby.

John's gaze shifted to Celeste and shook his head. "There's still no trace of him. I don't know

where he is, or even if he's safe."

Celeste's face fell, her hope snuffed out in an instant. She lowered her gaze, struggling to hide the heartbreak that flickered across her face. This was the news she feared, but hearing it still hurt deeply. If anyone had doubted her feelings for Amael, it was clear now-they were etched in the sorrow in her eyes and the way she always sought any glimr of news about him. Unlike her father, whose whereabouts were known but also the fact that as Head, he was a precious hostage, Amael's fate remained unknown and he wasn't as immune as her father. Moreover he had been heavily injured before falling in the seas...