A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 145: Winter (1) Part 1

The training in the Magical Gravity Field was simple. Defend against my Wood Steel using Manipulation category magic while enduring gravity that was five times heavier than usual.

"Urgh!" Reylie groaned, clutching my Wood Steel with the advanced spell, Orbit of Earth, but I shattered her spell with a simple rotation. The resulting resonance unleashed a shockwave that hurled her backward.

"Whoa! I give up, I give up!" Reylie, now sprawled on the ground, threw her hands up in surrender, her face slick with sweat. "Why are you so aggressive? You've really changed, a lot!"

"Next," I commanded.

Next was Epherene. With a brief nod, she stepped forward.

"Now, we begin."

"Yes, Professor," Epherene replied.

I swiftly sent the Wood Steel forward. Epherene intercepted it with her spell, Magnetic Field, forcing the steel to bend to her will. But the moment I intensified my Telekinesis, her hold crumbled like fragile glass.

Still, her talent was undeniable. Epherene swiftly manipulated the air, sharply increasing the wind resistance. In a space already weighed down by intense gravity, my Wood Steel struggled to stay afloat.

"How did I do, Professor?"

"That was a clever move. However," I said, enhancing the Telekinesis guiding the steel with a ripple. The ripple traveled through the dense air resistance, using it as a conduit, before crashing into Epherene’s entire body.

"Ow! Ah! Stop! It hurts! Stop, it really hurts!" Epherene cried out, writhing in pain as she rolled across the ground.

Without delay, I commanded, "Maho, you're next."

"Yes~ Yes~ I’m ready~!"

Maho approached with a bright smile on her face...

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” @@novelbin@@

Soon screamed and ran off when the steel moved.

Soon, she ran off in tears, leaving Grand Prince Kreto, who steadied himself and assumed a rigid Iron Fist stance. His spell, Distant Fist, a unique Manipulation category magic, allowed him to channel mana into his fists, sending a long-range strike through the air.

Jab, jab— Jab, jab—

Kreto attempted to fend off the Wood Steel with his martial arts, throwing punches at it, but the steel struck his shoulder with a resounding impact.

Bang—!

His arm hung limp at his side, clearly dislocated.

"Kreto. Are you alright?" I asked.

Kreto cast me a slight resentful glance before quietly sitting down in his chair, wordless in his surrender.

... That was how the first session of my training program concluded. I couldn't be sure if it was beneficial for them, but it was clear that I was making progress.

"Now, stand in a straight line."

"Huh? Again?"

It wasn’t just a product of my imagination—my proficiency in Intermediate Telekinesis had already increased by 3%. This training appeared to be recognized as a combat scenario within the system.

"We will continue," I stated.

***

As soon as I arrived back at the Lake Island mansion, Yeriel greeted me with blunt words.

"I heard all about it. What kind of training program was that supposed to be, anyway?"

Primien, seated beside her, nodded and said, "I agree. Causing harm to Grand Prince Kreto was a particularly poor judgment."

For some reason, the two were sitting together on the couch, casually sharing an ice cream. I had no idea how that situation came about.

“It’s fine. The textbook will take care of the rest,” I said, setting it down on the desk—The Yukline Theory of Manipulation Category Magic, V2.

It was the same book I had given Yeriel before—a compilation of the essential principles of Manipulation category magic, so valuable that I never even considered publishing it.

"Furthermore, the four mages who selected me for this training program will receive volumes three and four, and possibly even more advanced texts, in the future."

"Oh, really?" Yeriel asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

I nodded. Writing, much like reading, has always been a personal passion of mine. I had no desire for these works to end up in the hands of too many mages. It was better that they be given to those who could fully master the art of magic.

"That does sound appealing," Primien remarked casually, though she had no ties to magic herself.

"Well, that settles the training program. But what about this?" Yeriel asked, waving the book Blue Eyes in her hand.

"Yes, Professor. As Lady Yeriel mentioned, the real problem lies elsewhere," Primien remarked, seemingly content in her role as Yeriel’s echo.

Yeriel continued, "So, this book is like a prophecy, right? Everything in it is going to happen. And in the end, it’s your heart that gets pierced by a sword."

“There’s still time before the events of the book come to pass, and it might not even be me,” I said.

"Oh, please."

The middle of the book tracks Sylvia's journey of growth, characteristic of genre fiction. She faces grueling trials, battling monsters and enemies, climbing mountains, and honing her abilities with relentless determination until she finally takes her place at the Round Table. Only then does she encounter Demian—Deculein—once more.

"Even if time remains, the ending is inevitable. The mage who ends up with a sword pierced through their heart is undeniably you, Professor," Primien said.

"I know, right~" Yeriel said, nodding along with Primien.

Their certainty left me speechless for a moment. I finally asked, "Primien, Yeriel—did you two know each other before?"

"No, we just met today. But it feels like we’ve known each other for ages, doesn’t it?" Yeriel said.

"Yes, it appears so," Primien replied.

Annoyed, I stood and walked over to the window. The blizzard had long since passed, leaving behind a bright, cloudless sky. This weather was typical for Hadecaine. With sunshine dominating the skies for most of the year, it was no wonder the land flourished so easily.

"Deculein," Yeriel muttered my name, suddenly appearing at my side.

She stared up at the sky, deep in thought. Watching her triggered an old memory—a simple one, but it struck me like lightning. I once had a younger sibling, someone more precious to me than anyone else.

"Hmm," I muttered, resting my hand atop Yeriel’s head.

Yeriel’s head settled easily into my palm. She looked up as if taken by surprise.

"Why did you call me, Yeriel?"

"... Oh?" Yeriel mumbled, blinking in confusion, her face full of bewilderment. Her fingers fidgeted restlessly, as though she couldn’t remain still for even a second.

Blink, blink— Blink, blink—

"Ah, no. I didn’t call you... I mean, I didn’t mean to..."

Suddenly, Yeriel blurted out, "Never mind that! Do you even realize how much money went into this training program? I went over the numbers!"

Her sudden change in attitude left me stunned.

"Thirty million elne! Thirty million! Just for hiring the mentors!"

I didn’t say a word.

"And what about the diamond mana stone I gave you? Why does that old geezer, Gindalf, have it?!"

Her frustration boiled over, and with an exasperated sigh, she whirled around.

"I’m leaving!" Yeriel barked, stomping away in frustration.

Her grumbling as she stomped away struck me as oddly endearing. There wasn’t anything more to it—just that it was... endearing.

Primien smirked and remarked, "You really are the doting older brother, aren’t you, Professor?"

"Enough," I said sharply, shooting her a glare. Her constant parroting of Yeriel was starting to get on my nerves.

Primien cleared her throat and said, "... I must admit, I find myself quite curious."

"Regarding what?"

"About when you and your sister became so close."

"That’s not your business. Now, leave," I commanded.

"Yes, Professor," Primien answered, rising from her seat. She collected the ice cream Yeriel had discarded and then made her way out of the mansion.

And...

~

The day after came quickly.

"... Greetings. I trust your rest was sufficient," I said, addressing the four fatigued mages assembled in the garden of Lake Island. Their apprehension about the remaining schedule for the training program was clear, but I handed them a thick volume.

"Take this."

Using Telekinesis, I floated a hardcover copy into each of their hands.

"This is The Yukline Theory of Manipulation Magic, a work I personally authored."

Kreto’s eyes widened as he eagerly opened the book. His focus swept over the first page, and with every word, a spark of excitement flickered to life, growing brighter as he continued to read.

"We’ll focus on theory for the remainder of the training program. Over the next three days, you’ll study this textbook, engage in discussions, and if there’s any spell you wish to master, I’ll provide guidance."

The significance of my work was clear to them. Their astonishment shifted into an expression of newfound respect, their response noticeably more favorable.

"Begin with a thorough reading."

"Yes, Professor!"

“Yeah, yeah.”

They all responded eagerly, except for Reylie, whose lackluster answer stood out. With a flick of Telekinesis, I pulled the book from her hands.

"Ah, wait! I’m sorry! I’ll give it my best!!" Reylie exclaimed.

I returned it to her.