A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 322: Mentor and Protg (1)

Ria was considering a method—any ending that could finally tie the knot of this main quest, be it killing Deculein, toppling the lighthouse, or defeating Quay.

Ria lay on the bed, staring at the guest room ceiling as Deculein’s face began to form against the dark wallpaper—a villain by nature, his very presence defined by his setting, leaving no room for his redemption.

Nearly every employee testing the game concluded that the primary strategy to reach the ending was to kill Deculein immediately upon starting.

However, a single condition—a setting Ria had thoughtlessly added—might have spawned innumerable variables, perhaps even transforming Deculein himself with that minor notion.

“Convince,” Ria muttered.

Therefore, Ria was thinking of a method—a path to a better ending that wouldn’t necessitate killing Deculein.

“Should I tell him I’m Yuara?”

The Yuara Deculein knew was not Ria, of course, yet the parallels were undeniable, as their hobbies and specialties must have aligned and their likes and dislikes must have matched.

However, convincing that resolute man would prove more challenging than killing him.

“Will it be easier to just kill him?”

Ria could kill Deculein, and of course, she would be able to because he wasn’t Kim Woo-Jin after all.

Knock, knock—

At that moment, Ria heard a knock from outside the window.

Knock, knock— Knock, knock—

Outside, a woman flicked her finger as she looked directly at Ria, and it was Ellie.

“Oh?”

As Ria’s eyes widened, she responded with a bright smile and entered the room by taking a single step into the air without needing to open the window.

“How have you been?”

Ellie was arguably the strongest of the Scarletborn in terms of sheer power, yet she was a psychopath devoid of emotion. As Ria traveled through the Scarletborn’s deserts, delivering information to them, she had, in her own way, managed to establish a connection with Ellie.

“… Miss Ellie, what brings you here?”

“The elder instructed me to come to this place.”

That is to say, it was an order from Elesol.

“Is it to do with Deculein?” Ria replied, nodding.

“Yes, and my disguised status is this…” Ellie said, pulling out her identification card from within her robe.

Imperial Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry : Elaine

“… Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry?”

“This is my double-disguised status. I am an agent of the Imperial Intelligence Agency, from its deepest shadows.”

“What?!”

Ria feigned ignorance and even pretended surprise, but in truth, she already knew, since Ellie was, after all, a named character.

“So… I have come to learn of your decision,” Ellie asked.

“I’ve already agreed to the mission.”

“Hmm,” Ellie murmured, nodding. “Then, will you kill the Professor?”

Does Ellie still see Deculein as the Professor? Ria thought.

“I’m not sure,” Ria said, pulling her blanket tight.

“Hmm, I see.”

“… Yeah.”

“But whether you intend to kill the Professor or not, we still have a chance,” Ellie said, her voice devoid of emotion.

“… A chance?”

When Ria asked, Ellie extended a map without a word, holding it out with both time and location clearly indicated.

“What is this?” Ria asked, blinking and tilting her head.

“It is a map left by Miss Epherene. It is calling us, perhaps for you, Miss Ria.”

The name Epherene once more brought Deculein to Ria’s mind, as she recalled the words he’d spoken when he sought the Purger from the Floating Island, convinced then that the canvas incident was Epherene’s doing.

“… It is likely that I will kill her.”

Therefore, Ria thought that this must be Epherene’s call for rescue—no, it certainly was.

“Okay, I understand what it means,” Ria replied, accepting the map and internalizing the time and location written on it.

***

… Over the course of two days, I methodically purchased every mana tree I could find, costing hundreds of thousands of elne. From their bark, I extracted the purest demonic energy, which I then synthesized with other magical ingredients to create a potion. This entire process followed Decalane’s Study of Art Magic.

“This…”

One hundred milliliters of pristine demonic energy, free of any imperfection, concocted with flawless accuracy and designed to amplify only physical abilities, was the reagent that, upon intravenous injection, would grant me a strength comparable to Zeit for that brief moment.

“Should be enough,” I muttered, staring at the shimmering liquid and nodding contentedly.

Of course, this reagent was primarily designed for sheer performance. Any ordinary knight injecting it would find their body collapsing, but I was no ordinary knight because I had the body of an Iron Man, born of the Yukline bloodline.

With the reagent decanted into its vial, I stored it along with a syringe in my suit’s inner pocket, then draped my coat onto my shoulders and gripped the mana tree staff in one hand.

The moment I prepared to step out of the annex…

Bang—!

The annex door burst open, and a person with an intensely displeased expression glared at me before shouting.

“Hey, you—!”

It was Yeriel, bold enough to dare speak to me so disrespectfully.

“What are you doing?! Why did you buy so much?!”

Yeriel, wasting no time, shoved receipts and ledgers into my face, yet remained as charming as ever while she ranted and railed, and I watched her in silence with a smile playing on my lips.

“What are you smiling at?! Why did you buy so much?!”

That outburst from Yeriel wasn’t an accusation but a clear sign of her worry as she, still incapable of expressing herself forthrightly, scanned around the annex’s interior with eyes sharp as a hawk’s, searching for any hidden dangers.

“Yeriel,” I called.

“… What?” Yeriel replied, her face sullen.

“Soon, the day of promise will arrive.”

“… The day of promise?” Yeriel replied, furrowing her brow.

I cannot discern if she has forgotten or merely feigns ignorance, I thought.

“That is, the day you become head of the family,” I replied, looking at my wrist watch.

Whether she genuinely hadn’t known, or had erased it from her mind, Yeriel’s face was stained with disbelief.

“What, what, what, no, what are you talking about?” Yeriel said, stammering with trembling lips.

“I promised you before that I would give you the position of head of the family.”

“… But that’s, that’s… that’s…”

“That’s?” I repeated.

Gulp—

Yeriel swallowed hard, her eyes sweeping the area behind the annex before rushing inside and closing the door.

“That’s a conversation from before I knew my bloodline—”

“I said that to you, even knowing the truth. Rather, I swore an oath to you.”

Then Yeriel’s face went blank for a moment, and even that baffled look was charming. Yet her expression brought back a pang of what it felt like to be Kim Woo-Jin, while regretfully, our parting was now approaching.

“An autocratic noble who relies solely on himself does not suit the position of head of the family,” I said, placing my hand on Yeriel’s head. “The head of the family must be able to listen, must know how to manage people, must be able to respect differences, and sometimes must be able to be cold.”

Yeriel looked up at me without a single word.

“If ability and character, those two, achieve harmony, then the height of one’s position holds no consequence. Even bloodline or status would ultimately be but obstacles,” I continued, my fingers tenderly brushing Yeriel’s small head.

Such behavior was unfamiliar to Deculein, and equally unfamiliar to Kim Woo-Jin as well.

“Above all, do you not possess the very spirit?”

Thinking back, I couldn’t recall a single moment of genuine kindness toward my younger sibling. Their presence had been too much of a given, too commonplace, leading me, at times, to regard them as a responsibility rather than a comfort.

… Such regret is enough but once, I thought.

“You possess the spirit of a Yukline,” I continued, a faint smile on my lips.

Then, Yeriel’s expression softened, her large eyes growing misty and glistening, and her lips parted, revealing her charming, rabbit-like front teeth.

“Therefore, Yeriel, Yukline suits you more than anyone,” I said, smiling. “Believe my words, for it is not a lie.”

In every conceivable future, the house of Yukline had always been governed by Yeriel after Deculein’s death.

“Yukline is your destiny.”

***

I returned to the undisclosed foothills of the Empire, where, though three hours still remained until our promised three days were up, the mages from the Floating Island were already present in force, numbering seventeen—battle mages of Ethereal-ranked standing, each one a legion unto themselves.

“Ethereal Deculein.”

Mayev, the Purger, was the first to step forward, and I acknowledged him with a nod while my eyes swept over the mages assembled nearby.

“Barius Graind Carcercious.”

From the incantations of the mages chanting like a litany, a magnificent mana surged as mana particles composing the spell rose in perfect unison, filling the atmosphere, while the entire foothill served as the medium for this spell’s manifestation, making it a sight befitting grand magic with waves of mana pressing down upon the land with immense gravity and splendor.

“The preparations are without flaw,” I said honestly.

Their preparation held no flaw whatsoever, and not a single detail had been overlooked because the Floating Island’s knowledge and magical ability were undeniably thorough and perfect. Indeed, I’d never once doubted their capabilities.

“Indeed, the trap is certain. We will anchor Epherene in time, and purge her,” Mayev replied.

A brief consideration held me.

Should I kill them all before this grand magic reaches its completion? No, there’s no need for that, even for Epherene’s sake. As her Professor, and perhaps even her mentor, I have some words to leave behind.

“When will it begin?”

“Soon. And, the Archmage will also descend.”

In that moment, the very word archmage filled me with a profound sense of foreboding.

“… Archmage?”

“Archmage Adrienne, of Eternal rank, is involved in this. This is indeed a grand incident, sufficient for the Archmage to intervene. Therefore, the Floating Island requested cooperation, and she accepted.”

Of course, it was Archmage Adrienne. It was in moments like these that bad premonitions occasionally proved accurate.

“Where is she? She does not appear to be present.”

“She is watching from another place. What is your judgment? Epherene cannot escape,” Mayev replied with a sneer.

Adrienne was the most unwelcome variable, yet I vaguely understood why she’d agreed to cooperate with them, as the echo of her voice that ‘Because it looks like it’ll be fun!’ rewound in my mind, and I pressed a hand to my temple.

Hummmmmmm—!

That very moment, a violent vibration thundered, stirring dust from the ground at the foothills as the whole mountainside shuddered and shed leaves from its trees.

“… Now, I will begin,” Mayev said, giving a signal.

I, too, pulled the vial from my inner pocket.

“What is that?” Mayev said, glancing at my vial.

“This is a reagent. With it, I will undoubtedly win against,” I replied, my voice devoid of emotion.

“… Is that so?”

Mayev walked without a word, stepping onto the source of the magic, and with Adrienne’s assistance, he seemed entirely unconcerned.

“Ethereal Deculein, if by any chance the theory goes awry, I would ask a favor. Of course, it would be flawless even without your assistance, but by a one-in-ten-million chance—”

“Discard your concerns and proceed.”

The task they set for me involved review and calibration, placing me as the conductor of an orchestra, which meant the Floating Island, too, recognized the depth of my magical insight.

“… Prepare,” Mayev said, raising one hand.

Whooooooooooosh—

That very moment, a gust of wind immediately tore through the air as seventeen positions at the heart of the circular arrangement were occupied by the Purgers, who stood still with their eyes closed.

Boom—!

A vibration of the land signaled the magic circle’s operation, and pure mana rushed from the Purgers’ bodies, while their blue currents spread throughout the entire foothills, with particles scattering on the wind like embers from a wildfire.

“Barius Gracious.”

There was nothing particularly profound in the chants themselves as their sole purpose was to enable seventeen individuals to vocalize the same syllables in perfect synchronicity, thereby simplifying the process of combining their purpose with mana.

Then…

“Graind Carcercious.”

This grand magic didn’t manifest dramatically but was completely serene.

Pssssssss—

The weeping rustle of the scattering bushes died away and the falling earth crumbled to a stop, with every sound appearing extinguished and creating a space where even the very air became stagnant.

“… Crusious.”

The conclusion of the grand magic, its last chant, anchored the time across these foothills.

“Now, I will move,” Mayev said.

However, there appeared to be no necessity for me to rush.

“Ethereal Deculein?”

Without a word, my eyes settled in a certain direction—the one from which her scent came.

“… Follow me,” I said.

Taking the first step, I moved toward it and the Purgers followed close behind.

Thud—

I walked, my legs and feet advancing, but the world around me was frozen, with the very indentations made by my shoe heel in the dirt permanently suspended and not a single object releasing kinetic energy. It was a foothills where time was stagnant, a space completely devoid of time, and there, on the precipice of what might have been a cliff, I found someone.

“… It is you,” I called to her.

… No, her habitually messy hair, which she would casually scorch with a spell whenever it grew too long rather than spend money on a haircut, now reached a mature length, making her look mature, and even her vacant eyes held a brightened brilliance.

As the Purgers began to preheat their mana upon seeing her—a woman unrecognizable as Epherene unless she claimed the name herself.

“… Yes, it is me, Professor,” she replied.

Even her voice, as she introduced herself, had changed considerably from what I remembered.

However, perhaps her abrupt maturing made her seem fragile—like a leaflet about to crumble or a seed that had withered before its flower could even open—and my heart ached for her in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Therefore, my conclusion was simple.

“… It has been a considerable time.”

There was yet one more lesson she had to learn…