A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 331: Yulie (3)

… The spell—Mana Beam—deployed inside the painting prison with the purpose of reconnoitering the world outside the painting prison, manifested in a slightly different way than Sylvia expected.

Sylvia merely thought of a consciousness connection to put Yulie’s current consciousness into Arlos’s puppet, but Yulie’s diary, used as a medium, caused an overreaction.

To be precise, the memory, mana, and a certain obsession contained in the diary resonated with the spell. That was Yulie—before her memory was rewound—remaining in the diary and contained in Arlos’s puppet, perhaps as part of Epherene’s arrangement.

Therefore, Sylvia was now watching that situation through a crystal orb—the scene of Yulie, who had not yet managed a proper farewell, meeting Deculein and confessing her identity.

“It is complex,” Arlos said.

Next to Arlos, Carla also nodded.

Sylvia turned to look at Yulie, who said nothing and merely looked with wide-open eyes at her former self reflected in the crystal orb.

Sylvia found it concerning, for a decade of time was not something one could easily comprehend through mere indirect experience.

“Yulie, you are free to go and train,” Sylvia said.

“It is fine,” Yulie replied, looking at Sylvia and smiling as if she understood the concern.

Yulie turned her eyes back to the crystal orb once more, and a blue image formed in her white eyes.

“I wish to retrieve the decade of time that has passed.”

The current Yulie did not know the Yulie from years later, who was visible over there. The latter had gone through such difficult years alone and had ultimately come to terms with them. It would not be wrong to say that she was a completely different person from the current Yulie.

“Why.”

Therefore, Sylvia asked, since reclaiming ten years of time meant that she would take on another person’s life.

“Are you not afraid. You are a completely different person from that Yulie.”

The current Yulie nodded, as if she knew very well that the Yulie in the diary was not her, and she did so with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Then why.”

Sylvia, Arlos, Carla, and even Zeit all turned to look at Yulie, and Zeit’s face bore a somewhat worried expression concerning his younger sibling’s decision.

“… I, too, am afraid,” Yulie said. “I do not know the passage of ten years, and even now, looking at Count Yukline, I feel no emotion. However.”

Pausing for a moment, Yulie stretched her finger toward the crystal orb, and her delicate finger touched Yulie—not Deculein—the Yulie from before she was rewound.

“This Yulie, who has experienced a decade alongside Count Yukline.”

A smile somehow spread across Yulie’s face as she looked alternately at Deculein and herself, as if marveling.

“Appears very happy.”

Even if it was Yulie from before she was rewound, the statement that she appeared happy was something the current Yulie could understand. Ultimately, her essence remained Yulie, and she could feel it just from the expression of the Yulie before she was rewound.

“There, before Count Yukline… see the expression upon my face.”

Then, everyone in the room moved their eyes and looked at Yulie in the crystal orb.

“I recognize that face. It is the very face I have when standing before a sword.”

Yulie knew that her current appearance was the same as how she treated what she loved most—in other words, it was no different from her appearance when she first held a sword.

“It seems…”

It became sufficient evidence, and she felt a certain conviction. Therefore, Yulie muttered with a somewhat sentimental manner, as if she were smiling.

“… With all my heart.”

In the bleak world of Yulie’s worthless winter life, where only her sword existed, the fact that a person she loved more clearly than a sword—no, a person she would come to love.

“I will come to love Count Yukline,” Yulie concluded.

It was completely fascinating and strange, leaving her to watch silently…

***

In the basement where only a white canvas was left alone, in the Evidence Storage Room where even breaths could be heard clearly, I was looking at Yulie, and Yulie too was looking at me. I found her stare burdensome and I pretended to scratch my eyebrow and briefly turned my head.

“… You are Yulie, then?” I inquired.

“Yes,” Yulie replied, without hesitation. “Of course, strictly speaking, I am merely an artificially intelligent being created magically. I am merely a puppet containing the memory of a diary.”

Then, step by step, Yulie approached and continued, “Therefore, my lifespan is not very long. I will soon perish.”

That simple statement—that she would soon perish—struck deep into my chest.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

She was Yulie, the woman Deculein loved—a woman who suffered endless pain and harsh insults from him, yet ultimately gave up her own life for his sake—a very foolish woman.

“Until that moment, I must consider what actions are to be taken,” I said.

“… Haha,” Yulie murmured, smiling as she looked at me.

However, that composure lasted only a moment, and she once again had a wary expression, placing her hand on her waist.

“What must be done has already been decided, hasn’t it, Professor?” Yulie replied, sliding her sword from its sheath.

Shring—

The clear ring of steel filled the air, and it was an ordinary sword.

“Professor, I trust you—no matter what you try to do or what you are thinking.”

Yulie looked back, and outside the iron door, a clear presence was felt while a red current—a death variable—shimmered.

“I have made a commitment before I die,” Yulie continued, speaking as if she already knew her own death. “That commitment was neither merely that of a Guardian Knight nor of the world’s foremost knight.”

With mana shimmering on Yulie’s sword, a blue sword aura absorbed the mana of extreme cold and radiated like mist, pushing away the dark red death variables flowing from the land of death and blocking them from approaching me.

“It was a commitment to become solely the Professor’s sword,” Yulie concluded.

Indeed, it was a Yulie-like commitment, and I found myself smiling without realizing it.

“Is that so?” I said.

“Yes, that is correct,” Yulie replied, nodding.

“If that is the case,” I said.

Using Telekinesis, I held the canvas, aiming to prevent the destruction of the continent and preserve the people. Many tasks lay ahead, but I had no time to persuade others of the process that I had to walk my own path without seeking anyone’s opinion.

“We shall go.”

Of course, I would not have felt loneliness or solitude in such moments, but even if I was Deculein, a programmed character destined to be an eternal villain—no, precisely because of that…

“I will place my life in your hands,” I concluded.

I could not, and did not want to, refuse Yulie’s help, the commitment of the person Deculein loved most.

“Yes, it is an honor, Professor,” Yulie replied, and she smiled, her expression far softer than her usual gravity.

“… But before that,” I said, approaching Yulie and placing one hand upon her shoulder while my other hand rested upon her sword.

“… Oh,” Yulie murmured, a blush blooming on her two cheeks.

“Did you merely retrieve that from some random armory? It is nothing but a lump of steel unworthy of your dignity,” I replied, muttering as if scolding Yulie, for I found her endearing.

“Hmm? Oh… Because I was in too much of a hurry, this was all there was—”

“I will change your sword for you,” I interrupted, applying the spell of Blacksmithing upon Yulie’s blade.

Whooooosh—

The sound of mana rising meant that all my magic was imbued with the Snowflower Stone’s characteristic, and Yulie’s sword would also be forged blue, with its steel appearance completely removed and refined into a Snowflower Stone from its very origin.

Craaaaaaaaack…

The sound of iron and mana rubbing against each other, as if shedding skin, echoed as the steel’s metallic color turned blue, and the color of the Snowflower Stone filled its empty space.

Meanwhile, Yulie watched the process with a blank expression, her eyes like a deer’s, entranced as she stared at the metal transforming into her own sword.

“Also…”

Moreover, I added one more process to that—tying the final knot and using Midas Touch, consuming all my remaining mana—and added an attribute to her sword that suited her.

“… There it is.”

Soon, upon the resonance of the Snowflower Stone, I examined the description of this sword with Sharp Eyesight.

“Consider this your gift.”

Forged in an instant, yet imbued with my mana and life energy, this sword’s name was… Eternal Winter.

“This time, will you accept my gift?” I concluded.

And Yulie let her actions speak for her answer.

Crack—

Yulie’s small hand tightened its grip on the sword, and almost simultaneously, the iron door exploded.

***

“… Your Majesty, it is an urgent report,” Ahan said.

In the Imperial Palace, under the thick shadow of night, at Ahan’s words, Sophien calmly composed herself, her face devoid of any expression.

“That the Intelligence Agency has been annihilated…”

The Intelligence Agency was annihilated, and those who had set out to find Deculein’s evidence all returned as cold statues. All except the Red Garnet Adventure Team were frozen, but strangely, they were not dead—merely frozen alive.

“Given these circumstances… has the Professor committed an act of betrayal to us—”

At those words, Sophien’s eyes snapped open.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Ahan said, quickly bowing her head.

“That is enough. When have I ever blamed you?” Sophien replied.

“… Your Majesty, that being said, as for the Professor—”

“Do not question,” Sophien interrupted, sinking into the chair’s backrest, as blue starlight seeped into her complexion. “… Long ago, Rohakan once said.”

Within Sophien’s mind and heart, Rohakan from the past came to her.

“That I, myself, would be the one to kill Deculein.”

Speaking of a predetermined future and destiny, Rohakan delivered a breathtaking prophecy, asking Sophien to distance herself from Deculein.

“… Yes, that was once spoken, Your Majesty,” Ahan replied.

“Indeed, Rohakan proves to be no mere false prophet.”

Sophien sensed that the prophecy had a strong chance of being realized, and that it would be fulfilled by none other than herself.

“However… Your Majesty, will you be alright?”

“My emotions, you speak of?”

“… Yes, Your Majesty,” Ahan replied cautiously.

Sophien loved Deculein, and the person who made her feel the emotion of love—no, the being who made her feel true emotion—was the only one in this world being Deculein.

Therefore, if Deculein were to die, Sophien would be left with no purpose in life, a fact she herself vaguely suspected, for she would either sink once more to lethargy and ennui, or she would end her own life.

“How could I be?” Sophien said, as if laughing.

“… Your Majesty.”

Ahan’s heart sank, and Keiron, a statue in this inner chamber, also moved slightly as if protesting.

“It is fine. Should I come to kill Deculein by my own hands, it will be due to Deculein’s own design… Begone now, both of you,” Sophien said, issuing a smooth command of dismissal.

Then, Ahan backed out of the room first without a word, and Keiron returned to his normal form, completely clearing the space for Sophien.

“… A night alone,” Sophien muttered, closing her eyes for a moment as she thought about the near future.

With logic that transcended human understanding, Sophien slowly anticipated Deculein’s every intention and patiently deduced all the hidden motives beneath his actions.

— Your Majesty.

At that moment, a voice softly calling to Sophien was Deculein’s. Sophien turned her head to look down at the place. On the Empress’s tiny table lay a small hand mirror—the very one she had favored as a child—and Deculein, contained within it, was looking up at Sophien with utter shamelessness.

“It is you,” Sophien replied.

— Yes, Your Majesty.

Just by looking at his face, he was a man who inexplicably saddened Sophien.

— Your Majesty, there is a matter I must speak to you about.

Sophien didn’t know what he was going to speak of—no, she thought she knew, but she wanted to pretend not to know.

“Deculein,” Sophien said.

And calling his name without a reply.

“Will you not play a game of Go with me?”

Remembering the occasion that brought her closer to this man not long ago.

“This is my final command as your Empress.”

Sophien expressed a request as human Sophien.

“Here, with me… let us play a match in the game of Go,” Sophien concluded.

Not as the Empress’s command.