I Am The Game's Villain - Chapter 619 619: Cleenah's Warning

“…!”

My eyes snapped open, and I gasped for air.

A pounding ache throbbed through my head. My hands instinctively flew to my temple.

“What… the hell just happened…” I muttered out of breath.

Nemesis.

I could still see her face. She had been trying to tell me something. Something important but before she could say it—I’d been yanked away.

Too clean. Too sudden. Too convenient.

“Edward…”

I turned toward the source of the voice, my head swimming as I did. The familiar walls of the hotel room came into view.. I was back. Back in Sancta Vedelia.

Standing in the doorway was Roda.

Her usual armor and battle gear were gone, replaced with something more casual—loose jeans, a navy jacket, her hair tied back loosely like she hadn’t slept much.

“You’re awake!” She said, stepping toward me with surprise flashing in her eyes.

“What… what happened?” I asked, pushing myself up slowly. “There was… there was this guy. And Vina? Where is she?” My eyes darted around looking for her concerned.

“She’s okay,” Roda assured. “She brought us back to Sancta Vedelia, but…”

“But?”

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, Edward.”

What?!

“Two… days?”

Roda nodded. “I tended to your injuries as best I could, but… I didn’t know what else to do. You wouldn’t wake up.”

Two whole days?

My thoughts spiraled. Was it because of Nemesis? Or something deeper—more insidious?

Could it be the strain from Sloth and Wrath? I’d been pushing them further than I should have, true, but I was being careful. I thought I was keeping it under control.

Maybe I wasn’t.

Or maybe all that was going with Annabelle and Samara was taking a toll on me as well?

But if it had been two days, then—

“Your friend John,” Roda continued quietly, “he came by yesterday. He said you all have a trip planned to Fangoria. That’s today.”

My eyes widened. “Shit.”

I tossed the blanket aside and tried to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but the second my feet hit the ground, my knees buckled.

“Ugh—”

Before I could crash to the floor, Roda caught me by the shoulders.

“Careful,” she said, catching me.

I steadied myself against her, groaning softly. “Is it still morning? Then I might still have time to catch them…”

Roda looked at me like I’d grown another head. “Are you seriously planning on going anywhere like this?”

“I don’t have a choice. I told you, Behemoth is going to attack. I have to be there.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, but she was clearly concerned.

After a quiet moment, Roda let out a sigh—half reluctant, half resigned.

“Alright,” she said at last. “But before anything, you need to change those bandages.”

“Bandages?” I glanced down at myself—my chest and abdomen were tightly wrapped in layers of gauze like I’d been mummified by a cautious nurse with a roll of anxiety. “Huh. Didn’t expect this level of handiwork from you. You’ve been moonlighting as a medic now?”

“You think?” She replied with a little smirk.

“Yeah…” I muttered awkwardly, letting her ease the bandages off me. The air hit my skin with a sharp sting, making me flinch slightly. My torso was marked with a mix of healing burns, purpling bruises, and older scars that hadn’t fully faded. Even with my accelerated recovery, my body looked like a battlefield.

I asked her to go easier this time. “Just the areas that need it,” I said. “Wrapping the whole top just makes it harder to move.”

She nodded, adjusting her approach without complaint. She wasn’t a healer, not by profession or magic—but she was careful.

“You… really need to have someone properly treat these scars,” Roda muttered while tending to the raw patches on my back.

“Some scars don’t go away, no matter what you do.”

“That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “You still need to treat as many as you can. Untreated wounds… they wear you down over time, even if you think you’re fine.”

She was right, of course. I just didn’t want to think about it.

There were a couple of people who might be able to help—Maria or Seraphina, maybe both—but with Sancta Vedelia still hanging by a thread, I couldn’t afford to drop everything just to play patient.

“After this mess,” I said. “I’ll see them.”

She didn’t argue. Just gave a quiet nod and finished wrapping my shoulder with a clean bandage.

As soon as she was done, I made my way into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. I turned the dial all the way to hot.

“Cleenah,” I called aloud once I was under the stream.

[<You’ve recovered.>]

Her voice came through my mind crystal clear—clipped, cold, and clearly upset. I didn’t need to see her face to picture her frowning in disapproval.

“Yeah…What happened to that guy?”

[<He ran. Like a rat.>]

I didn’t reply right away. I let the water pound against the back of my neck, the silence between us saying more than words could. Eventually, I stepped out, dried off, and moved back into the room.

I tossed on a light layer of armor, just enough to protect vital areas but not so much that it’d weigh me down. Over it, I threw on a shirt to cover the plating, followed by sturdy pants and my best pair of boots. It wasn’t exactly knightly garb, but I wasn’t a knight. I was just someone trying to survive.

Armor wasn’t usually my thing—I preferred to fight light, fast, with nothing weighing me down. But times were changing. The threats were reaching levels I was having a hard time to even fight.

And Behemoth was coming.

“Are you upset, Cleenah?” I asked, my fingers fastening the buttons of my shirt. I caught my reflection in the mirror—a tired guy waking up from a little coma.

[<You could have died.>]

“This wouldn’t have been the first time,” I replied, eyes still locked on the mirror. “And I wasn’t about to let Roda die. She got pulled in there because of me.”

[<She made her own choice to follow.>]

I turned slightly, frowning a bit. “So what? You wanted me to just leave her? Let her die? She is on our side.”

[<You put her life below yours when you couldn’t even protect yourself.>]

“That guy couldn’t kill me,” I shot back, more sharply than I intended. “He said so himself, remember? And besides—”

A sharp gust of mana flared at my side. I didn’t need to look—I could feel her presence.

Th𝚒𝗌 𝐜hɒp𝑡ꬲr ɩ𝕤 pⲟ𝙨𝐭𝓮ⅾ bყ 𝗞𝗶𝗍ɛ𝕟ɵ𝓋𝗲𝐥

Cleenah manifested beside me, the air growing cold. Her expression was hard and unreadable.

“That’s exactly why I’m angry,” she said. “Because he said it, you believed it. You took it as a shield. You think words make you untouchable?”

I stayed quiet, gritting my teeth.

“It’s the same with the Prophecy. You think just because you’ve seen the moment of your death—somewhere down the line—you’re safe until then, don’t you?”

I finally turned to face her fully. “Am I wrong? Prophecies are destined to happen, right?”

“In the case of a death prophecy? Yes. It will happen,” she answered. “But have you ever considered the consequences, Edward?”

“Consequences?” I repeated, confused.

“Yes. Consequences. Because that death is inevitable, Fate itself will bend the threads of the world to make sure you survive long enough to reach it. Do you understand what that means?”

“That’s…”

“If you put yourself recklessly in danger before that moment—if you throw yourself into death’s path, thinking you’re immortal until that day—Fate will find another life to trade for yours. Someone else will be sacrificed so you can reach your foretold death.”

“W-What?”

“That’s what I’m trying to make you see,” she said. “It might be someone close to you—someone within reach. Celeste. John. Even Roda. Anyone.”

What…

“You might survive Behemoth. You might even walk out of Fangoria untouched. But if you keep walking around with this delusion of invincibility,” she whispered, “then someone else will pay the price for your arrogance.”

I clenched my fists at her words.

Cleenah took a step closer. “Edward. I’m going to ask you something—and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

I didn’t reply. I just stood there, silent, waiting for whatever she was about to throw at me.

“Are you feeling guilty about what happened to Roda?” She asked.

“W–What?” I stuttered, caught completely off guard.

She let out a long, quiet sigh and rubbed her forehead, her fingers pressing into her temple as if trying to ease a headache that had no cure. That sigh alone told me she’d already figured out the answer.

“You’re blaming yourself for what the version of you in her world did to her, aren’t you?” Cleenah said quietly. “Even though it was Leon who actually hurt her, it still feels like it’s on you somehow… because it was still Amael.”

My mouth opened, but no words came. Nothing would form.

She looked at me a moment longer, then added, “It could be your empathy for her, maybe even your personal feelings… but I know guilt’s in there too.”

“I don’t know if it’s guilt,” I muttered at last. “But… yeah. If you’re asking whether I feel empathy for Roda, then yeah. I do.”

Cleenah arched an eyebrow. “Enough to risk your life over it?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Cleenah, the bastard that was chasing her? He was an Iris Project scum. And Roda… she just escaped from that nightmare of a timeline. I couldn’t leave her behind, not with someone like that. I don’t even want to imagine what he would’ve done to her. This isn’t about trying to save everyone—it’s not some hero complex. It’s just… Roda isn’t just ‘anyone’ to me. She’s a friend. She had every reason to walk away after pointing me toward the underwater path, but she didn’t. She stayed. Even when none of this had anything to do with her world. She chose to stay. She’s… she’s a good woman.”

Cleenah’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Yeah. She is. And I think now, without a doubt, she knows you’re not the one who ruined her life back then.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said with a quiet laugh.

Then, out of nowhere, Cleenah reached out and brushed her fingers gently against my cheek.

“Edward, I won’t always be there to protect you. Someday, you’ll run into others like him… maybe worse. Maybe even gods. And when that day comes, I might not be by your side. So you need to be smarter. You can act arrogant, even reckless—but only if you’ve got the power to back it up. Otherwise, it’s just suicide.”

I reached up to grasp her hand, but I couldn’t quite touch it. My fingers trembled as they hovered in the air. I clenched my fist, trying to stop the shaking.

She looked at me with something like sadness and something like hope. “Even with the Prophecy… if you push too far, Edward, you’ll really die. And you’ll take others down with you. So please—just try to stay alive a little longer, okay?”