I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 473: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [15] Investigating The Castle



After an agonizingly awkward dinner where Freya had made a blatant attempt to seduce me— and, by extension, ensnare me into becoming her loyal slave- I finally managed to excuse myself and escape back to my room.

As soon as I opened the door, a familiar figure rushed toward me.

"Loki!" Ron let out as he threw his arms around me.

I stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his enthusiasm. "I was only gone an hour," I said with a wry smile, gently patting his back.

"I... don't like this place," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

"Neither do I," I replied.

Who would like this place?

The air itself seemed tainted, heavy with the oppressive energy of servitude and submission. The people here were little more than brainwashed masochists, their minds and bodies bound to Freya's will. And at the heart of it all was Freya herself-the master of this twisted domain, whose obsession with making me her slave left a sour taste in my mouth.

"You should get some rest," I said. "Take the large bed if you want. I'll stay in the living room."

Ron hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes... Okay."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He shuffled off to the bedroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I let out an exhausted sigh and slumped onto the sofa, the cushions barely providing any comfort. My body ached-not just from fatigue, but from the lingering effects of the Sin of Sloth's attack.

A sharp pain shot through my chest, and I instinctively clenched the fabric of my shirt over my heart. The wound might not have been visible, but it was there.

For a few hours, I remained there, resting as best I could despite the discomfort.

When I finally opened my eyes, the world outside was cloaked in darkness. The moon hung high in the sky.

"If I'm going to do this, now is the time..."

I rose to my feet, stretching briefly before grabbing my cloak. Quietly, I moved toward the door.

"Cleenah, I'll need your help," I whispered, stepping into the corridor.

[<If this is about your mother, I can confirm that she is here, inside the castle.>]

Her words sent a jolt through me, and my heart began to race.

Finally.

[<She's somewhere in the castle's underground. You'll need to find a way down there.>] "Got it."

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and began walking. The dimly lit corridors were eerily quiet, with sometimes guards walking around.

Occasionally, I did pass by guards patrolling the halls. Each time, they paused for a moment, their eyes narrowing as they took in my presence. But, to my relief, they offered no words, merely giving me a respectful nod before continuing on their way.

At least Freya's designation of me as her guard is proving useful.

Still, how am I supposed to reach the castle's underground?

After wandering aimlessly for a while, I decided on a more direct approach. Stopping by one of the windows along the corridor, I pushed it open. Without hesitation, I climbed onto the ledge and leapt out.

The wind rushed past me as I landed softly on the grassy ground below. The night breeze was chilly, brushing against my skin like icy fingertips, but it wasn't unbearable.

Deciding to maintain a casual demeanor, I adopted an easy expression and began strolling around the castle grounds.

The guards stationed outside the castle gates glanced at me curiously, their frowns betraying mild suspicion, but they said nothing. I returned their looks with a slight nod and continued on my way, feigning nonchalance.

After circling the castle six times, my patience was wearing. Every corner, every shadow, every door I passed seemed to lead nowhere significant certainly not to the underground chambers where I suspected my mother was being held.

Just as I was about to give up searching the exterior, something unusual caught my attention.

A faint wisp of smoke curled upward from a narrow gap between two wooden doors. The sight was peculiar, as I had already inspected this room earlier. It was supposed to be a food storage area, nothing more.

Frowning, I stepped closer, curiosity overriding my caution. My hand hesitated briefly before gripping the door handle. Slowly, I pushed it open and peeked inside.

The storage room was dimly lit, and the scent of dried herbs and grains filled the air. But my focus was on the source of the smoke. It wasn't coming from the supplies or cooking equipment—it was escaping from the edges of what appeared to be a solid stone wall at the far end of the room.

Only now, upon closer inspection, did I notice something peculiar about the wall. The texture was uneven, the color slightly off compared to the surrounding stonework.

That's not a real wall....

Glancing over my shoulder to ensure I wasn't being watched, I stepped inside the storage room and quietly closed the door behind me. With a steadying breath, I approached the false wall and gave it a tentative push.

"Huh?"

The wall gave way under my hand, swinging inward like a hidden door. Before I could react, it pulled me inside with surprising force, slamming shut behind me.

I stumbled slightly, my feet landing on rough stone as I found myself in a hidden room.

"You!"

"What are you doing here?!"

Two elven guards sat at a crude wooden table. Their expressions twisted into alarm and suspicion as they rose to their feet, hands hovering near their weapons.

I straightened up and brushed off my clothes, keeping my calm, ignoring their hostility. "I am Her Highness' guard. When I see suspicious activity inside a hidden room of the castle, it's my duty to investigate."

"Investigate, my ass! Get out of here! We're here under Princess Freya's orders!"

I ignored him and looked behind the guard toward the dark corridor.

[<She is there.>]

Cleenah's confirmation sent a jolt through me, and my fists clenched involuntarily.

[<Wait. Don't think for a second that reaching your mother will be this simple. This is too easy, and you know it. If you kill these guards now, you'll risk alerting Freya and losing your cover. And if there are traps or wards protecting your mother, you'll only ensure her

confinement.>]

She was right. This wasn't a situation where brute force would solve anything.

Still, my gaze lingered on the dark corridor. I needed to at least see what I was dealing with, to understand how my mother was being held so I could plan her escape.

[<Patience, Edward. For her sake, you have to approach this carefully. You still have time.

Take it slowly.>]

I let out a slow breath and forced my body to relax.

"Fine..."

Turning to face the guards, I gave them a curt nod. "My apologies for intruding," I said, and

without waiting for a response, I left the hidden room.

As I stepped back into the night, I scratched my hair.

"I'll come back, Mother. Just wait a little longer..."

...

-Knock!

"Lady Loki!"

The insistent voice pulled me out of the restless haze I had fallen into.

"Huh!" I bolted upright from the sofa, disoriented and still heavy-eyed.

"Lady Loki!"

The knocking continued, louder this time. Stifling a groan, I stumbled toward the door with groggy movements. Cracking it open just enough to see who was outside, I squinted at the

figure of a maid standing with a stern expression.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Princess Freya demands your presence. You are late," the maid said curtly, her scowl making

it clear that my delay was unforgivable in her eyes.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

How much longer can I handle these simps?

"I'm coming right away," I replied before shutting the door with a sigh.

I hadn't even had a full hour of sleep, my mind consumed by thoughts of how to rescue my mother. Still shaking off the drowsiness, I dragged myself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face before taking a quick shower.

After dressing in fresh clothes, I tied my hair into a neat ponytail to better fit the image of Freya's loyal guard. Before leaving, I scribbled a quick note for Ron, just in case he woke up and found me missing.

The maid was waiting for me outside, her demeanor rigidly professional. As we walked down the corridor, I decided to probe for information.

"Since when have you been serving Her Highness?" I asked.

Her expression softened instantly, a dreamy smile crossing her face. "Five years. Princess

Freya saved me when I was on the brink of starvation. She offered me food, shelter, and

purpose."

The adoration in her voice was clearly visible and for a fleeting moment, I almost pitied her. "So you accepted to become her slave?" I asked.

The maid froze mid-step, spinning around to glare at me with a fire that seemed utterly out

of character for her meek demeanor.

"Her Highness does not consider us slaves! We are her cherished and devoted confidants!"

She snapped.

Her cherished 'collection', yes.

"Of course," I replied gently, my voice as insincere as the smile I forced onto my lips.

The maid seemed appeased, her expression softening once more. "Don't worry, Lady Loki.

Soon, you'll understand Her Highness's greatness and become just like us."

Hell no.

The last thing I want is a shiny tattoo on my forehead.

We arrived at what appeared to be a study room. The maid knocked once before pushing the

doors open, motioning for me to step inside.

Freya stood in the center of the room, waiting, her radiant presence eclipsing everything around. This time, she wore a sublime white dress that flowed around her like a cascade of moonlight. Her beauty was undeniable, and no matter how much I didn't like her policy, I couldn't deny that anything she wore only seemed to magnify her allure.

"I waited a long time for you, Loki," Freya said, as she turned to face me. "Hm?" My gaze briefly shifted to her neck, and I couldn't help but raise a brow in curiosity.

Yesterday, her dresses had concealed her neck entirely. Today, however, she wore an elaborate golden necklace, the centerpiece of which was a cluster of amber-red jewels that

sparkled with a beautiful glow.

[<Impossible...>]

'Cleenah?'

I called, sensing Cleenah's sudden shock.

[<That's Brisingamen...>]

'Brisi-what now?'

I frowned, completely lost.

[<Brisingamen is Freyja's necklace. The Goddess Freyja. She always wore it around her neck-

it was her most prized possession.>]

I glanced at the necklace again, its fiery amber jewels gleaming with an unnatural brilliance

under the soft glow of the room's lanterns.

Sure, it could really look like a Godess's jewel now that I look at it again.

'You're saying Freya got spoiled by the Goddess and inherited her jewelry?' I asked, trying to make

sense of it.

[<No... It's not that simple. I wasn't entirely sure before, but now I am convinced.>]

'Convinced of what?'

[<She's not Freyja's Twin Soul... She's Freyja herself.>]

"Eh?"