I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 466: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [8] Amael's Decision

Chapter 466: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [8] Amael's Decision



"Vina."

"Vina? What a beautiful name," I blurted, my voice softer than I intended.

The name rolled off my tongue smoothly, lingering pleasantly in my mind.

Vina flinched, her body tensing as if my words had creeped her out. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as she watched the fire crackling.

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Shaddap.

I wasn't trying to be weird. I just needed to talk to her-to gather some crucial information.

"How long has it been since you saved me?" I asked.

"A week." Her reply was curt.

A week...

I clenched my fist at the reminder of him.

That man-was an Avatar of Samael, like me.

He used something he called 'Sin of Sloth.'

Damn it!

This wasn't in the game.

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'How so?'

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Right...

Nihil had intentionally kept the truth hidden. He made sure I walked into that encounter blind. But if I'd known the Sins existed, I might've been more cautious before rushing in like an idiot against Durathiel.

And I have no freaking intentions to become that freak of thousands years ago to begin with! []

'Yeah... I know.'

When I spoke to him, Nihil hadn't struck me as malicious. He was focused-driven by goals I still didn't fully understand. But one thing was clear: he didn't want me gathering the Sins and becoming Samael. Because if I did if I regained all my memories-'my' first instinct might be to seek revenge without caring about the consequences.

But that thinking of him was really angering me.

Everyone saw me as Samael's vessel, his reincarnation, or whatever else they wanted to call it. But I wasn't him.

I wasn't his puppet.

I was just Amael- with Nyrel's memories.

Was it so much to ask to live my own life?

Pain coursed through my body as I dragged myself toward the crackling fire. It was hard but I forced myself forward and sank heavily to the ground across from Vina.

Ignoring the ache radiating through my chest, I turned my focus inward, drawing on Cleenah's Legacy.

'Anna. Samara.'

Relief swept over me-they were safe. But there was something else, something strange. The threads that connected me to them, once vibrant, were severed temporarily. Not by some external force, but by myself.

An unconscious wish.

Since that moment I'd lost control-since Annabelle and Samara had been caught in the aftermath of my loss of control-I'd wished deep down to shield them from myself. To cut off the connection we shared.

And now, it seemed my control over Cleenah's Legacy had grown better, granting that wish without my conscious effort.

I let out a weary sigh, pressing a hand to my chest as a dull ache spread through me.

A week has passed. Normally, I'd pride myself on my recovery speed, but his attack had left wounds that even time struggled to heal. I couldn't stay here much longer, though. Time wasn't a luxury I could afford.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"On a small island," Vina replied. "You won't find anyone or anything here."

The way she said it felt oddly... final, almost as if she were reassuring me I had no other options.

"You live here?" I couldn't stop the question from slipping out.

She nodded.

"Alone? Don't you have any family? A home?"

unconsciousness.

It had been her. There was no doubt about it.

Now, I couldn't force her.

And even if I could, I wouldn't.

She had already saved me-that was more than enough.

I mulled over the situation, trying to piece together a better plan, when Cleenah's voice

interrupted my thoughts.

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Her tone was slightly tinged with irritation, but beneath it, there was something else—

concern.

'Cleenah?'

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I grimaced at her words, painfully aware of how close I had come to death. My chest still

throbbed, the wound still seeping blood. Looking down at it, I clenched my fists.

Durathiel Ruvelion.

The next time we met, he wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't underestimate me. Something deep inside me stirred-an almost primal instinct that urged me to kill him. It was

dark, insistent, and unfamiliar, as if it didn't truly belong to me. No, it was more than instinct.

It was a compulsion, a cursed connection between us.

We were both Avatars of Samael.

The Sins within us demanded a victor, someone to bear the full weight of all the Sins, to resurrect Samael. It all made sense now, as much as I hated to admit it.

Was that why Leon Cromwell despised me? Why he had hunted me, killed my family on Earth?

And my hatred for him-was it truly because of what he'd done to my family? Or was it just another facet of this accursed bond, this forced rivalry dictated by instincts that weren't even

mine?

Probably both.

But the thought chilled me to the bone.

What scared me most wasn't my hatred for Leon-it was the possibility that it wasn't truly

my own. If my actions, my emotions, were shaped by this cursed connection, then how much

of me was even... me?

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Cleenah's voice brought me back to reality gently. It was rare for her to call me by my first

name. I exhaled deeply, steadying myself.

"You're right," I finally admitted.

A year ago, back at Celesta, I wouldn't have hesitated. I would've stormed off, reckless and

unprepared, chasing to save my mother without a plan. I was immature back then-foolishly convinced I could handle everything on my own.

But now...

I had allies at Sancta Vedelia. People I could trust, even if it was difficult for me to rely on

others because of the fear of disappointment.

I had time. Precious time to recover, to train, to become stronger.

'Cleenah.'

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'Can you train me? For the next few weeks.'

There was a pause. Silence stretched between us, but I could almost sense the faint smile

curling on her lips.

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