I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 745: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [27] Celest

"Let’s see, Victor..." Leon Grimlock’s voice was a low growl, his lips curling into a smirk. "I trust this ti, you’ll make it worth my while. The last tiline was... disappointing."

Victor blinked, his brow furrowing. Last tiline? He didn’t understand what Leon ant, but he didn’t need to—every instinct in his body scread the sa thing: enemy.

And worse, his gut told him this was an enemy he couldn’t beat.

"Stand back."

Alector rose, his staff glowing faintly with mana.

"Old Alector..." Victor shot him a worried glance. "You sure about this?"

"Don’t underestimate , boy," Alector said, his eyes resting on Leon.

Leon’s smile faded slightly, his gaze flickering toward the distant column of white light that pierced the clouds. His expression hardened.

"Not yet," he muttered under his breath.

Amael hadn’t arrived. He could feel it.

Timing was everything—Leon had to strike when Amael was most vulnerable, when even Nes couldn’t interfere. Until that precise mont, he’d let others weaken Amael up.

For now, his goal was simple: keep Victor Raven occupied.

Victor was dangerous—too much influence, too much sway over fate itself. Leon knew enough about him from the past tiline to treat him as more than just a nuisance. Killing him would be ideal, but that ca with risks.

The last thing Leon wanted was to draw the attention of Nihil.

The Guardian had no reason to intervene—unless Victor died. And if that happened, Nihil would appear. Leon wasn’t ready to deal with that. Not today.

No, his mission was narrower, cleaner—to seize the Sins of Wrath and Sloth from Amael.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Still, if he could get rid of Alector in the process, that would be a pleasant bonus. The old man had caused him too much trouble in the previous tiline. It would also give Leon a chance to test Victor’s power—see just how far the his influence really reached.

A thin smile crept back across his face. "Let’s have so fun."

He raised one hand, and purple flas burst forth, swirling around his fingers. The ground cracked beneath him from the heat alone.

"Huh?!" Victor’s eyes widened. "That fla—"

Recognition hit instantly. That hue, that pressure—it was the Anathemas Fire. Amael’s fla.

"Let’s see how well you handle this," Leon said, flicking his finger casually.

The air ignited.

-BOOOOOOM!

A torrent of purple fire roared outward, swallowing everything in its path. The air itself seed to scream.

Victor reacted just in ti. He planted his feet, gripping his sword in both hands and raising it vertically in front of him. The first wave slamd into him like a hamr of pure heat.

The pain hit quickly—searing, bone-deep. His skin prickled, his arms shook violently. Gritting his teeth, he summoned his own mana flaring crimson.

Scarlet flas of blood burst around him, clashing violently with the purple flas. The collision painted the air in streaks of red and purple, lighting up the battlefield like an apocalyptic sunset.

Victor was pushed back, boots scraping trenches in the cracked stone. His muscles scread, his hands going numb from the pressure.

"Victor!" Alector shouted, about to move but he froze mid-step. His instincts scread danger. He turned sharply and thrust his staff behind him.

-BAM!

A shockwave hit him squarely in the chest. "Argh!" Alector staggered, coughing, his grip faltering.

"You’ve been quite a nuisance to , Alector," Leon said, his expression darkening as purple flas danced around him. "I didn’t expect you to kill Emilia... just to stop from obtaining Wrath and Gluttony on Earth."

-BOOM!

Alector imdiately raised another barrier, light swirling around him like a cocoon—but the Anathema Fire ate through it like acid through paper.

"What are you saying?!" Alector shouted back, his voice strained with disbelief. "Emilia?! What does she have to do with this?!"

Leon didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he smiled.

"No," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You weren’t even aware of the Sins. Soone else must have nudged you... pushed you to kill Emilia before I could take her power to travel between worlds."

Alector’s breath visibly caught.

Leon leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing with amusent.

"I just wonder..." He continued, voice dripping with sothing too close to delight, "who managed to convince you to kill your own granddaughter."

Alector froze, face paling. "...!"

Before his brain could even finish registering the words—

A ring of purple fire erupted around him, roaring to life like a monstrous halo. Heat blasted outward, bending the air.

Leon didn’t waste a second.

With a blur of motion, he launched himself forward, hand raised, aim true and lethal—

But before he reached Alector—

-BOOM!

Victor crashed through the purple flas like a burning teor, body steaming with a mix of fire and blood. He caught Leon’s strike mid-air, palm to palm.

"Ughh!!" He groaned, teeth grinding as agony pulsed up his arm—but he held firm, glaring daggers into Leon.

Leon only smirked.

Victor stared back at him, breathing hard, eyes flicking from Leon’s amber eye to the unnatural flas dancing around him.

"You..." He rasped in disbelief, "you look like Amael did. Sa amber eye. Sa fire."

He spat blood to the side.

"And now you’re using his flas too. So I’ll ask again—who the hell are you?"

Leon’s smirk widened just a fraction.

"Soone you wish you could forget."

The purple fire detonated outward like a tidal wave, swallowing Victor whole.

"ARGHH!!"

The pain hit instantly. Not just burning—scorching. Like sothing alive chewing its way through flesh.

Victor blasted mana outward in self-defense and kicked himself backward, skidding across ruined stone.

Sweat poured down his face. His breathing ca jagged.

He lifted his right arm—

And nearly cursed again.

His skin wasn’t just burnt. It was charred in spiraling black streaks, smoldering faint purple at the edges.

He’d heard and seen about Amael’s flas. Hell, everyone had.

But experiencing them firsthand?

Absolutely revolting.

His limbs trembled. His mana wavered. His strength drained faster than he could call it back.

He gritted his teeth.

Leon could’ve killed him already.

So why hadn’t he?

Before Victor could even finish the thought—

Leon vanished.

"Shit—!"

Victor whipped around.

Leon was already on Alector.

No hesitation.

Pure killing intent.

Alector shakily raised his staff—not because he believed it would save him, but because dying without lifting a hand felt worse.

The air crackled.

A blue-white flash split the battlefield.

Lightning ruptured the ground.

Alector blinked—and in the blink between heartbeats, he was sowhere else entirely.

-BOOOOOOM!!

Leon slamd into the earth where the old man had stood, impact detonating into a massive crater—stone exploding outward like shrapnel.

Dust settled.

No body.

Leon slowly turned his head.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

Victor’s expression anwhile went blank.

"...Jennyfer?"

She stood there with Alector at her side, chest rising and falling quickly, lightning snapping across her body like a living storm.

She didn’t look at Victor though her words were ant to him

"You really have a talent for finding trouble, don’t you," she muttered.

Leon chuckled.

"Jennyfer Eginfer," he said, voice smooth. "I nearly forgot you existed."

Her brows twitched.

Then he added, far too casually.

"So... did you finally reunite with Jayden, or is that still pending?"

Jennyfer’s head snapped up.

"J–Jayden?" She repeated sharply. "You an Reinhart?! That’s my brother! You know him?!"

Leon raised a hand. A small spark of purple ignited in his palm.

"Oh, I know him very well."

The fla swelled, twisting into a sphere of violent purple.

"Always been a pain."

Then—

He threw it.

Instantly, Jennyfer erupted with mana. Lightning scread outward, cracking like a thousand whips. She swung her blade to intercept.

-BOOOOOOM!!!

She was blown backward, boots carving twin trenches through the battlefield.

Her entire arm went numb.

"W–what the hell is that...?" She gasped.

The fire pressed forward like a starving beast, suffocating, overwhelming, utterly unlike anything she’d fought before.

"Hold on, girl!" Alector said, slamming a hand onto her back to shield her from the heat, mana pouring from him in support.

A flash of red.

Victor appeared beside them, blood-mana igniting his sword.

"Don’t drop it—!" He growled, then swung.

-BOOOOOOM!!

The push stopped.

Barely.

The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, feet frozen in cracked earth, blades and mana braced against the unstoppable violet inferno.

Leon watched.

Smiling.

One hand raised, casual, unbothered.

He wasn’t trying to kill them.

He was playing.

Victor snarled through his teeth, veins popping along his arms.

"AHHH!"

With a final roar, he cleaved through the fireball.

-BOOOM!!

An eruption of purple fla burst outward like a dying sun.

Alector reacted instantly, throwing a barrier over all three of them.

When the heat finally settled, all that remained was smoke... and a man untouched on the other side.

Alector breathed shakily.

"...What do you want from this?" He asked Leon.

Leon’s smile disappeared.

It was the first ti.

He summoned a black sword.

And with a voice almost gentle, he answered:

"A new world."

***

Cyril looked at Celeste like a man witnessing a dream finally co true.

His severed arm had already regrown into shape — veins, sinew, and flesh knitting together in waves of pulsing blood until a perfect, newly ford limb flexed at his side.

A delighted smile curled across his face.

"There you are," he said with a breathless laugh. "So that’s your real power, Celes? Ah... I always knew you were wasted trailing around that pathetic Victor. But look at you now."

Celeste didn’t answer.

She simply stepped forward—

And blurred.

Cyril’s grin widened. "Yes!"

He reacted instantly, sword swinging up on instinct—

-BOOOM!

Steel t ice in a violent collision that cracked the air.

The blast of impact rippled outward. Frost exploded from Celeste’s blade, racing across the ground and crawling up Cyril’s legs like a living beast threatening to devour him whole.

Ice crept up his arms.

With one powerful leap, Cyril kicked off the ground and launched himself backward, tearing away before the frost could root him in place. In the sa motion, he raised his sword overhead and brought it down in a brutal vertical cut.

Celeste didn’t flinch. She summoned a wall of ice.

It shattered instantly.

The force still rippled past her. She tilted her head by a hair’s width.

Too late to avoid it completely.

A thin red line kissed her cheek. Blood slid down her skin, but her expression didn’t even twitch.

She swung back.

-BOOOOOM!!

Cyril t her strike head-on, flas roaring from his sword—red blood fire fused with boiling blood. Heat clashed against winter, detonating into a storm of steam, frost, and embers.

"That’s it, Celes!" Cyril roared, exhilarated. "Show more!"

He vanished in a blink and reappeared in front of her, leg already swinging upward in a brutal kick.

Celeste raised her forearm to block—

The impact launched her into the air like a stone skipping across water.

But she recovered instantly, twisting mid-flight. Her blade stabbed into the ground, ice exploding from the point of contact and freezing the earth below in a spiraling bloom that slowed her descent and anchored her in place.

Cyril was already there again.

Celeste raised her free hand.

"Ars Fatum."

Cyril froze mid-step.

White sand spiraled into existence around her.

His blood ran cold in a way even ice couldn’t achieve.

He moved instantly, dragging his sword up as a shield.

-BOOOOOM!!

The sand struck like divine punishnt.

"Ughhh—!" He grunted as the impact drove him back, cracking through layer after layer of blood barrier and mana defense like glass.

A deep gash tore across his chest.

Blood spilled—

Then glowed.

A red pulse from the do overhead bathed him, nding the wound at an unnatural speed.

But Celeste wasn’t done.

She stomped, launching herself forward again, frost blazing around her like an aura given form.

Her blade glead, white sand swirling around its edge like stars orbiting a dying moon.

Cyril spat sharply.

He raised a hand—

A massive, nine-layered crimson circle erupted into existence before him, rotating like a blood crest.

Celeste didn’t stop.

She didn’t even hesitate.

But her eyes flashed white.

She jumped sideways.

A heartbeat later—

Violent chains of burning blood exploded outward from the circle, screaming through the air toward her like hunting serpents.

Celeste dashed, dodging, twisting, her hair trailing behind her like white smoke.

One chain snapped toward her back.

She whipped her blade behind herself—

An avalanche of frost exploded outward.

But the chains punched through it.

"...!"

She spun back just in ti to intercept Cyril’s sword.

-BOOOOOM!!

Their collision cracked the air.

Cyril’s smile widened then..

"Now you’re done."

Chains tore up from the ground and wrapped around her ankles.

Celeste was yanked off balance, dragged violently across the frozen floor.

"Aghh!!"

The chains seared her skin, sizzling like red-hot brands against flesh.

More shackles lunged upward. One coiled around her wrist.

Another shot toward her right—

But Celeste moved with an elegance almost inhuman. She twisted mid-air like falling snow caught in a storm, the long skirt of her white dress billowing around her like the wings of a pale angel.

She caught the chain around her left wrist.

Grabbed it tightly.

Pulled.

-CRACK!!

Cyril’s eyes exploded open.

The chain fractured.

Not lted.

Not shattered by mana.

It was breaking under her raw strength.

"What—?!"

He reacted instantly.

"Catch her!" He shouted.

More blood chains erupted like vines bursting from soil, diving for her torso, her legs, her throat—

But midway they frosted over.

Solid.

Frozen.

Cyril stared.

"...She’s freezing them?"

Celeste clenched her teeth. Blood dripped from her lips. Her skin was pale. The strain was visible.

But she did not falter.

Still gripping the chain, she yanked with all she had.

-BOOOM!

The entire blood circle exploded like glass.

The remaining chains evaporated into red ash.

Silence hung for one breath.

Then—

Celeste lifted her head, frost swirling around her like a crown built from winter itself.

Blood slid from the corner of her mouth.

Her voice ca soft and coldly.

"Ars Fatum."

Cyril’s eyes snapped wide as he twisted around.

Behind him, a swirling vortex of white sand had silently gathered, spiraling upward into the form of a spear.

She had started forming it earlier.

While pulling the chains. While stealing his focus.

-BOOOOOM!!

The spear fired like a falling star.

Cyril barely twisted aside, but not enough.

It ripped through his side, carving out a massive chunk of flesh in a violent spray—

Yet he laughed.

Crimson light pulsed from the do above, washing over him.

The wound knitted shut in seconds.

"You’re truly amazing, Celeste!!!" He let out ecstatic.

His entire body detonated with blood.

Dozens—no, hundreds of blood circles materialized in the air around him, painting the sky in nightmarish red. From them grew jagged blood spikes, twisting into existence like carnivorous thorns before raining downward in a storm.

Celeste recalled her sword with a flick of her hand.

Without hesitation, she launched herself upward.

-BOOOM!

Blade t spikes in a blur too fast to track.

She carved through them mid-air. Frozen fragnts rained down with every swing as waves of frost erupted around her.

For the attacks coming from blind spots—

Her eyes flashed white.

Deaths rewritten.

Trajectories avoided.

She twisted, ducked, sidestepped attacks before they could even reach her. Her Prophetess power didn’t just let her react faster it let her know before the threat existed.

Still...

More spikes ca.

Too many.

Endless.

Cyril hovered in the sky smirking, drowning the world in blood-red artillery.

She was getting pushed back.

And he knew it.

"Ars Fatum."

The air shivered.

White sand tore outward from her body, spiraling around her like a halo of desert-starlight, intercepting the spikes that tried to pierce her back.

Her speed doubled.

Then tripled.

She shot upward like a cot of winter, gripping her blade in both hands.

Cyril greeted her with his sword raised high.

-BOOOOOM!!

Their blades collided.

A shockwave of ice exploded outward, freezing the air itself as shockwaves cracked through the battlefield.

Cyril grinned through the collision.

"If only you’d accepted my offer back then."

"Shut up."

Frost erupted violently around her, biting at the atmosphere, freezing moisture into glass-like shards.

Cyril smiled, blood surging around him in wild torrents to keep the cold from consuming him.

Then, suddenly—

"...Look."

Celeste’s eyes flicked downward.

A child stood below, small and shivering, tear-streaked, alone amidst the ruins.

Cyril’s lips curled into a wicked smirk.

Another blood spike ford and launched downward.

"No—!"

Celeste broke away instantly, diving from the sky.

She obliterated the spike before it touched the child—

But there was another.

Hidden behind the first.

The second pierced her side.

"Urghh!!"

She coughed, blood splattering onto frozen earth, staining the snow, staining her dress.

She staggered, one hand gripping her wound.

Cyril descended lightly, boots touching ground like a man stepping onto a stage.

"You move too much, Celeste," he sighed. "But this ti... I’ll make sure you stay still."

His hand lifted.

Chains of blood erupted upward—

But sothing tore through them.

-BOOOM!!

Golden vines, massive and radiant, ripped the chains apart like wet paper, forcing Cyril back a step.

His expression soured.

From the dust, a voice dripped with contempt.

"As vile as ever, Cyril."

Celeste lifted her gaze.

Footsteps echoed.

She approached like soone taking a walk through a garden instead of a battlefield—umbrella resting delicately over her shoulder, swaying slightly with each step.

Golden eyes locked onto Cyril.

Not fear.

Not anger.

But disgust.

Pure, unfiltered disdain.

Cyril smirked anyway.

"Alvara."