A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 159: Forest (3)

Rekordak, the most notorious concentration camp in the Northernmost Region, loomed over a land so merciless that even at midday, the air barely rose above freezing.

“Oh, come on! I already told you, no~!” Reylie protested, stepping in front of Yulie to keep her from leaving the main building.

Yulie grumbled as she was dragged by the collar, muttering, “I’m telling you, I’m fine. Why are you doing this?”

“Please. You’re far from fine,” Reylie said, pressing her finger firmly into Yulie’s lower back.

Yulie’s eyes flew open, and her body gave a sudden, startled flap—a faint reminder of the injury that still clung to her.

“What do you mean, you’re fine? You look like you’re on death’s doorstep.”

“… Ahem.”

Yulie was still in a fragile state; her body bore wounds, and her mana reserves were all but drained.

“Even so, it’s only right to show—”

“I said, it’s fine. We don’t even know who saved us. Besides, I already thanked them and threw in some tiger meat as well.”

Surprisingly, Yulie retained a faint awareness of the sudden attack by the monstrous horde two days earlier. Although she hadn’t been conscious, her body remembered it vividly. Such was the mark of a true master; even battles she had not fought left traces of mana carved deep within her being.

“Tiger meat?”

“Yes.”

To be fair, I didn’t get a chance to retrieve the tiger’s carcass in the rush to escape, but Deculein probably took care of it, Reylie thought.

“All right! If you’re set on going outside, let’s take a walk together. Here, put this on—it’s said this tiger hide can even stop a blade,” Reylie said, settling the coat over Yulie’s shoulders.

A faint blush rose to Yulie’s pale cheeks as she whispered, “Is this…?”

“I tanned the leather myself and requested a master artisan to craft it.”

Although Yulie said nothing, the slight movement of her lips betrayed her—it was her unmistakable sign of delight. Soft, almost like a cat’s purr, quiet murmurs of “Mm” and “Hmph” slipped out, barely audible.

“Thank you, Reylie,” Yulie said.

“It’s no trouble. I even made myself a protective guard from the leftover leather. Pretty clever, wouldn’t you say?”

“Certainly. You deserve it.”

“Hehe. Alright, then. Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

The two stepped outside and wandered at an easy pace. The wind cut like a blade, but the coat held them in its warmth.

“It’s hard to believe people live here, even in such harsh conditions. I’ll admit, I was frightened when I first arrived,” Reylie remarked.

The grounds of Rekordak were divided into the main building, prison, watchtower, and outer wall. From the main building, they had a clear view of the prisoners’ daily routines—bench pressing with makeshift equipment, lifting stone dumbbells, or practicing bodyweight exercises.

All their training had only prepared them to withstand the harsh conditions, but Reylie felt no pity for them. If anything, she was filled with contempt—these monsters, intent on preserving their own lives, had taken countless others without hesitation.

“Is your recovery going well, Knight Yulie? I’m not referring to your current injury, but to the one from before.”

“… I am recovering.”

“That’s good to hear. Once you’re fully recovered, let’s show him what we’re capable of. Also, keep that tiger hide safe—watch out for thieves, too. With that coat, no one would dare question your strength as a knight.”

Yulie nodded, then paused before quietly asking, “Reylie, you mentioned that Deculein was in the Northern Region, right?”

Reylie was momentarily startled but quickly regained her composure, recalling Deculein’s instructions, and she replied, “Yes, I received that update through a crystal orb… but don’t worry. We’re unlikely to cross paths.”

For an adventurer, lying was almost a virtue; as the old saying went, adventurers who couldn’t lie might as well be a rogue.

“… Right. I’d prefer not to meet him myself, either,” Yulie muttered, her expression turning icy and resolute.

Reylie swallowed nervously; there was something far more unsettling in Yulie’s cold, restrained fury than in any fiery outburst.

“I’m not sure what I might do if that anger were to take control. I will not let anger consume me or lay claim to my soul.”

“… Heh

,” Reylie laughed, forcing a smile to change the subject—and, thankfully, it worked.

Yulie gave her an annoyed look and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You’re simply so stubborn at times, Knight Yulie.”

“And just what do you mean by that?” Yulie asked, narrowing her eyes.

It was, in fact, the last thing she wanted to hear. Calling the stubborn that they are stubborn cuts as deeply as calling the ugly that they are ugly.

“Isn’t that a line from that knight novel? Something like, ‘I won’t let anger consume me and lay claim to my soul,’ or words to that effect?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It’s from Ipalencia: Paragon of Knights. I’ve read it myself.”

“… No.”

“Really?”

“… I read it when I was young, so the line may have lingered in my mind without me noticing. I didn’t mean to quote it on purpose.”

Reylie chuckled at Yulie’s awkward attempt to explain herself and said, “And by the way, you should try smiling more often, Knight Yulie. Lately, you barely smile at all. And not that fake smile you put on for others—give us a real one.”

Yulie remained silent, her footsteps quiet in the sweeping chill. Before her, the barren expanse of Rekordak stretched out in endless bleakness.

“… Knight Yulie?”

To a knight, smiling was a habit best forgotten. Even the faintest smile stirred memories of a time when she had been naive and left her guard down.

“If it is absolutely impossible to find the time, then at least once a month… Just smile for me. That’s all I ask.”

Those honeyed words, asking for just a single smile each month, were nothing but empty charm. She felt a deep disappointment—and a tinge of bitterness—realizing how easily she had once been deceived by such hollow promises.

“Reylie, don’t expect empty smiles from a knight.”

Now, all signs of a smile had faded from Yulie’s lips.

***

The Northern Region remained peaceful. My duties here required a more practical approach than at the Mage Tower, but nothing too different. If anything, having command over the soldiers made things easier—a benefit of the fortress commander’s rank being well below my own.

“Per your orders, we’ve prepared an updated map of the area. Additionally, a letter has arrived for you,” reported one of the cavalrymen.

Today, the fortress cavalry delivered a map along with an unexpected letter—from Yeriel, no less. It was a pleasant surprise; I hadn’t expected her to take the trouble to write.

“Good work. You’re dismissed,” I instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

I placed the map on my desk, then opened the letter first.

— Hey, how’s everything going?

Yeriel’s voice burst out instantly, as if springing to life the moment I opened the letter.

— Heh Heh heh~ This is a new spell I’ve been working on. It was tough—took me three whole days to get it right. Maybe it’s just not my category?

A voice message spell—no small task. Yeriel’s curiosity, it seemed, had driven her to dive headlong into learning every spell she could find lately.

— I heard the news that you’re working in the Northern Region. … Huh? Wait, did I do something wrong? This is how it’s supposed to work, right? The voice is recording fine, isn’t it?

Whether Yeriel was learning the spell on the spot or simply being interfered with from all directions by someone nearby was unclear; however, she soon broke into an argument with a voice in the background.

— What are you talking about? Look, it’s working just fine like this. Ugh, seriously—what’s your problem! My voice is recording perfectly! … It’s not the right way? Who cares if it’s not the right way? If it works, it works. Ever hear of the end justifies the means? … No, we don’t need new paper—that’s just a waste. Just stop interrupting me! Alright, let’s try this again, from the top.

Yeriel paused, cleared her throat, and picked up where she left off.

— Ahem. So, I heard the news that you’re working in the Northern Region. I’ve been keeping busy here in Hadecaine. It’s a shame I can’t show you how the territory’s progress is coming along—you’d see it all if you visited. Everything you suggested has been sorted out, and now we’re just on the brink of real success in our business.

This was welcome news. Hadecaine was set to become a crucial defensive line in the main quest, and I couldn’t afford to let its development or defenses slip from focus.

— Also, there’s been a lot of talk about some demon called the Voice lately… but dealing with demons is Yukline’s task. And… so…

A quiet pause settled over Yeriel’s words, followed by a soft, barely audible sigh. She hesitated, her voice faltering as if it were tangled in doubt, before finally speaking.

— Next time you’re here, let’s have dinner together. … Hey, turn it off! Quick, just turn this thing off already! Ah, this is so cringeworthy; I can’t take it anymore! What? I have to turn it off myself? How am I supposed to do that?!

“Unbelievable,” I murmured with a quiet chuckle, rising to begin the day in earnest. I picked up the map the soldiers had prepared.

“… Hmm.”

I had instructed them to pinpoint any sites in the area with unusual concentrations of mana, and they’d done a commendable job. After reviewing a few marked locations, I imbued Midas Touch, Level Two, transforming the map. What had been a plain sheet now displayed features like current position and contour lines, functioning almost like a navigation tool.

“This will do,” I muttered, donning my coat as I headed outside to retrieve the snowmobile parked near the stables on the first floor.

“Oh, Professor~!”

“Professor!”

As I was about to leave, my assistants called out—Allen, Epherene, and Drent—each holding a massive snowball, grinning as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Do you want to build a snowman, Professor~?!” Epherene asked.

Without a word, I leaned into the accelerator.

Vrrrooooom—!

The snowmobile surged forward, sending up a sweeping arc of snow that rolled over my assistants, who were busy sculpting a snowman.

“Ahhhhhh—!”

“Aah!”

“Oh my God!”

Though unintentional, I felt no need to glance back. I set off toward the marked spots on the map, activating Wealthy Magnate as I went. High mana concentrations often hinted at something remarkable lying close by.

“… A dungeon, of course.”

Soon, I reached a spot shimmering with golden light—a crevasse resembling those scattered across the Northern Region. But beneath this one, a distinct, brilliant energy thrummed, powerful and unmistakable. It was what many referred to as a hidden piece.

The Northern Region held many event-type dungeons like this, each guarding undisclosed rewards. Though their treasures were shrouded in mystery, they promised riches beyond those found in the Southern and Central Regions.

“Hmm.”

However, before entering, I activated Villain’s Fate to assess the conditions. With no death variables detected, I felt no reason to hesitate. I squeezed myself through the opening.

… And just then, a notification appeared before my eyes.

[Main Quest: The Ages]

“… A main quest?” I murmured, the question slipping out naturally—almost too easily.

Because, typically, a main quest wasn’t the kind of event that simply emerged into existence. But before I had a chance to process this…

Whooooosh…!

I was already plummeting into the depths of the crevasse.

***

Nameless Island, located near the Floating Island, was a famed artificial landmark known for its breathtaking scenery, visible even from a distance. However, strangely enough, its owner drifted aimlessly across the island, her expression unchanging as she traced silent, endless circles that seemed to follow no path at all.

“… If you’re that worried, why don’t you go lend him a hand?” Idnik remarked, watching her with a look of disbelief.

Sylvia paused her restless pacing, turned back to Idnik, and asked, “Worried?”

“You said it yourself just now—Deculein entered the dungeon.”

Roughly five minutes earlier, Sylvia had spoken under her breath, her words slipping out almost unconsciously.

“Deculein entered the dungeon.”

The dungeon’s magical mana barriers were powerful, even beyond the reach of Sylvia’s abilities, making any attempt at observation out of the question.

Even for someone like Deculein, a dungeon in the Northern Region presented a significant challenge. No matter how strong a mage, facing such a place alone was pure madness. Unlike knights, mages simply didn’t have the same flexibility in the face of the unknown. This was the source of Sylvia’s worry.

“When?” Sylvia asked, masking her reaction.

Actually, the words escaped her lips without leaving any trace in her memory.

“Watch yourself,” Idnik said, projecting a recording of the recent scene while her eyes displayed what she had seen whenever she wished.

In the recorded memory from five minutes earlier, Sylvia sat on Nameless Island, watching Deculein and murmuring to herself.

— Deculein went into a dungeon.

Suddenly, she sprang to her feet and began to drift aimlessly, tracing restless paths across the ground in silent repetition…

Faced with undeniable evidence, Sylvia could no longer deny it. She quickly changed her stance and replied, “I’m not worried about him.”

“Then what do you mean by that?”

“I’m only worried he might die before I get the chance to kill him myself,” Sylvia muttered, settling back down with calm composure.

Pressing her lips together, she looked down at the distant earth, focusing intently on the spot near the crevasse where Deculein had fallen. However, the dungeon’s entrance prevented any magic from reaching inside.

“Honestly, I really can’t tell whether she hates him or likes him…”

Idnik’s quiet words caused Sylvia’s hands to ball into tight fists.

Deculein won’t die there. Nothing will happen to him. After all, the fact that he looks forward to the day when I will be the one to kill him means he won’t die until I do it myself.

“You do realize you’re muttering again, don’t you?”

Sylvia looked back at Idnik and replied, “No, I didn’t.”

“Watch yourself,” Idnik said, projecting the evidence once more.

— He shouldn’t die before I can kill him.

It was a recorded projection from five seconds ago that Sylvia had unconsciously muttered to herself. With no other choice, she cast a spell to create a strip of tape and covered her mouth to silence herself.

***

… After Deculein’s departure, Epherene returned to her accommodation to sort through her damp clothes.

“That was pretty fun, though—the way the snow just started dumping down all of a sudden…” Epherene said, chuckling as she shrugged off her robe to change into a fur coat.

At that moment…

“The dawn of the second day approaches.”

“Ahhh—!”

Startled, Epherene spun around, only to find Sophien standing there once again. Noticing Epherene’s reaction, Sophien let out a faint chuckle, while Epherene placed a hand over her chest to steady her racing heart.

“… Huff… huff. Y-Your Majesty, perhaps you could give a little warning before appearing like that next time…?” Epherene stammered.

“Do you really dare to make such a bold demand of me?” Sophien replied, raising an eyebrow.

“N-no, Your Majesty. I only meant to ask… what will become of your usual duties?”

“No need to worry—I can handle my duties perfectly well from here.”

Sophien could simply possess the cat of the Imperial Palace to manage her duties, returning to her body afterward. Even from this distant Northern Region, she could effectively govern the entire capital without difficulty.

“So, dawn on the second day is nearly upon us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty… we have about six hours remaining,” Epherene replied.

Sophien had carefully prepared for her travel with Epherene into the future, drawn to the adventure and fully committed to a meticulous plan while setting aside her usual lethargy.

“Good. I expect it to be worth my time.”

Epherene Luna—her name, meaning a falling moon, seemed fitting for someone traveling to the future on the path of shooting stars. Sophien couldn’t help but wonder if it hinted at what awaited them, with a quiet anticipation building within her.

“Are you certain you won’t need a knight to accompany you, Your Majesty?” Epherene asked carefully.

“That won’t be necessary,” Sophien replied, drawing a snow globe from her robes. “The most reliable knight I need is already right in here…”