A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 158: Forest (2)

“Hmm...” @@novelbin@@

Reylie sensed a chilling hostility lingering close by, murderous intent pressing down like a bitter fog against her skin. The intruders advanced in slow, deliberate approach, making no attempt to hide their intentions as they closed in, forming a silent circle around her.

“Knight Yulie,” Reylie said, casting a quick glance in her direction.

However, Yulie was unconscious, rendering it impossible to continue the fight. Her previous opponent had been a tiger, and with wounds this severe, even she would need time and rest to recover. Reylie now realized that whatever came next, she’d have to face it on her own.

Then, a band of figures emerged from the shade of the snowfield, radiating an unmistakable murderous intent. Reylie scanned their faces, but each one was concealed behind a mask, their identities shrouded in complete anonymity.

With a sigh, she gathered her mana, tested her circuits, and prepared her spell. And then, in the next instant, a barrage of attacks rained down.

Booooooom—!

The ground trembled as waves of mana surged forth, and flames from the attackers swept through the area with violent intensity. Reylie cast the Dukan Barrier to shield both herself and Yulie, but the dark flames pounded against it relentlessly. The rate at which her mana drained was staggering.

Crunch...

Battered by the onslaught of magic, the ground lay in complete ruin. Deep scars marred the surface, and thick smoke billowed from patches where the flames continued to smolder.

“You assholes, ever heard of common etiquettes?! A warning before you start blasting would be nice, you know!” Reylie shouted.

There was no reply, only the quiet, focused motions as they prepared their next spell.

Reylie bit her lip, muttering under her breath, "... No way out, huh?"

This was a defense destined to collapse. Lowering the barrier to strike back would only endanger Yulie, and even if she tried, taking them all down at once was impossible.

Yet maintaining the barrier was no solution either; a single shield couldn’t endure the relentless onslaught of their combined spells. Without limitless mana, it was only a matter of time before her barrier gave way.

“... No way.”

A sudden thought came to Reylie—Deculein was in the Northern Region on a business trip. Although it was officialy part of a mission from the Chairwoman, yet something didn’t sit right. There had to be a deeper reason he had chosen to come here willingly.

“Hey! Did Deculein send you here?!” Reylie demanded.

Her question was met with silence, as they wordlessly continued their preparations for the next wave of destructive magic.

“He really did, didn’t he?! That son of a bitch wasn’t satisfied with everything he’d already done?!”

Reylie's shouts reverberated through the forest, her curses fading only to echo back before finally vanishing into the vast, empty silence. The woods held their breath until, at last, a composed voice responded to her accusations.

“Enough with the vulgar suspicions.”

Vrooooom—!

The snowmobile thundered through the snow, scattering icy powder as it tore past the cloaked figures and came to a sudden halt beside Reylie. She looked up, her mouth dropping open in shock.

The man’s face was as hard and cold as stone, his very presence radiating the aura of a villain, as though he wore it like an emblem. It was Deculein, head of Yukline, sworn enemy to both her and Yulie—the one who had slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands, of Scarletborn.

"... Ah, my bad. Guess I got things mixed up for a second there..."

Deculein looked over at Reylie—or rather, at Yulie, unconscious beside her. Yulie’s face was pale, almost corpse-like, her faint breaths seeming to grow weaker with each moment.

“... Hello?”

Reylie couldn’t shake her confusion at the momentary flicker of pain in Deculein’s otherwise impassive expression, like a shadow passing briefly across a wall of ice.

“Take Yulie with you,” Deculein said.

“... Really?”

In silence, Deculein activated his Wood Steel.

Schwing—

A precise, sequential clang echoed through the air as nineteen steel blades took their aim, each targeting toward the cloaked figures across the field.

“Leave these vermin to me.”

Reylie found herself questioning the source of his unshakable confidence and, perhaps even more, his sudden decision to help and unexpected appearance.

Countless questions pressed at the edges of her mind, yet she held her silence, her attention riveted on the movement of his steel. Nineteen blades, each formed in precise geometric shapes, soared into the air before striking downward upon the cloaked figures with deadly accuracy.

Fwoooosh—

The blades tore through the air like falling meteors, bending the very atmosphere as they plunged. The cloaked figures scrambled to cast barriers, but Deculein’s swift interference shattered them effortlessly. What came next was a foregone conclusion.

Kabooooom—!

The nineteen blades struck the earth with tremendous force, sending shockwaves rippling through the ground and clouds of dust billowing into the air. The forest trembled from the onslaught, and the enemies were obliterated, leaving no trace behind.

Reylie stood still in silence, frozen in shock, yet her mind, almost out of habit, instinctively analyzed the layers of magic that had just unfolded before her.

Deculein’s approach to eliminating the mages relied solely on brute, unrestrained force. There were no intricate spells—just the raw power of Telekinesis propelling steel forward, each strike charged with kinetic and magical energy in a relentless barrage.

Though deceptively simple in its execution, the technique left any mage completely exposed. Deculein’s precision came from a mind sharpened by absolute mastery, his theories rooted in flawless logic. With just a sidelong glance, he could break down their barriers, dissecting and interfering with their spell’s structure as though it were instinct.

“... Hmm.”

Deculein turned, and Reylie took a startled step back. But his focus lay elsewhere—on Yulie, who was completely spent, her form motionless and still locked in the depths of her unconsciousness.

Deculein looked at Yulie as he quietly murmured, "As pathetic as ever."

A vein pulsed in Reylie’s forehead as she snapped, “Excuse me? It’s all because of you, you know?!”

Deculein cast a fleeting, dismissive look her way, his expression laced with quiet disdain, as if to say she was even more pathetic than he thought.

“Leave. We’ll take care of cleaning,” Deculein commanded.

“... We?” Reylie echoed.

At that moment, Allen popped out from under the snowmobile, offering a polite smile as he introduced himself, “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Assistant Professor Allen—”

Deculein interjected, “And make sure Yulie remains unaware of this.”

As Reylie took in the aftermath—the charred ground and the ruin left in the wake of Deculein’s steel—she realized that without his intervention, it would have been her and Yulie lying shattered amid the wreckage.

Reylie nodded and muttered, “I will. And... Thanks for the help, I guess. Though I still don’t see why you’d even bother...”

***

I gathered up the intruders’ remains alongside Allen—torn robes, broken bones, and crushed flesh. Just as I’d thought, they were members of the Altar.

[Main Quest: Named Hunt]

This was a main quest. As the name implied, the Altar had already begun their mission to eliminate named characters—heroic figures capable of interfering with their plans. One by one, they’d target anyone who posed a threat, even players, in a classic random encounter. With so many named characters likely to fall victim to this quest, it was about time I took action.

"The Altar?" Allen asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

I turned to look at him, suspecting he already knew about the Altar. At this point, I could tell when he was genuinely unaware versus when he was just pretending to be ignorant.

“They’re a fanatical cult entrenched in the depths of the unexplored Northern Region,” I replied.

“Oh... I see. But can people even survive in the unexplored region?” Allen asked, his surprise exaggerated to a theatrical degree. The kid was quite the actor.

"Although the unexplored region is barren, unsuitable for agriculture or livestock, and overrun with beasts and monsters, it remains part of the continent. Entering may not guarantee instant death, but it is not a place for long-term survival."

The Altar’s sanctuary was there, in a place shrouded in shadows, where they dedicated themselves to the resurrection of their so-called god. But whatever they hoped to revive wasn’t a god—only another fanatic. The full story would come to light as the main quest progressed.

"I see... But, Professor, how could you tell these bodies... were from the Altar?"

“Their bodies still hold traces of demonic energy, and along with clear signs of unnatural vascular transplantation.”

Allen gasped and echoed, “Vascular transplantation?”

I looked out over the forest to the distant horizon, where the unexplored region stretched onward. It was the edge of the Northern Region—near enough, with no clear boundary marking its start.

“Yes, vascular transplantation. It’s clear proof they are Scarletborn."

“... Scarletborn?” Allen repeated, his voice wavering slightly.

“For such a transplant to succeed, compatibility is crucial. A typical human body would reject veins infused with demonic energy, resulting in death within days.”

Even with organ transplants, humans face severe challenges with immune compatibility. Only the Scarletborn could survive the grafting of veins from non-human creatures. Their faint flow of demonic energy allowed them to endure veins taken from demonic beasts or demons, extending their lifespan by, at most, six months.

“Of course, these Scarletborn have limited time. Six months, and they’re done—nothing more than disposable assets for the Altar."

Allen fell silent.

"Whether they were brainwashed or persuaded to volunteer, it matters little now. Dying here spares them—any further survival would only mean greater suffering."

Allen stayed silent, none of his usual praise like, “Wow, Professor, you really do know everything!” since it was likely he hadn’t known about this either. After all, details about vascular transplants and human modification only come to light in the later parts of the main quest.

"Is that so...? That does sound rather cruel...."

I turned my attention to Allen.

Allen lowered his head, a look of genuine sadness crossing his face as a lone snowflake settled on his tousled hair.

“Let’s go; there’s still work to be done,” I said, resting a hand on his head.

Soon the sadness vanished from his face; he looked up with a bright smile, as if he’d never been down at all, and said, “... Yes, Professor!”

I climbed back onto the snowmobile, gripping the handlebars firmly. Then, almost instinctively, my attention shifted to the path Yulie had been carried along on Reylie’s back.

Yulie—a woman who can shake my very heart with a single glance. I want her love, yet I pray she’ll never forgive me. I want her to walk away without ever looking back. Let her hate me and despise everything I am, but I hope she survives it all and finds her way back to me, I thought.

"Somehow, she manages to stay in my thoughts longer than she should."

It seems I can’t deny this selfish heart of mine. Wishing her well, hoping she’ll go on living—even if she resents me—is a rare sentiment. Wanting her happiness, even if it means a life without me, isn’t something just anyone could feel. Maybe I love her too deeply; now, I can’t even tell if it’s Deculein’s heart that holds this love, or if it’s mine alone.

"... Professor?" Allen said, his voice pulling me from my empty stare into the distance.

"Nothing," I murmured, and pressed down on the accelerator.

Vroooom—!

The enhanced snowmobile plowed through the snow, driving forward with unstoppable momentum.

***

Just over a week had passed since Epherene’s arrival in the Northern Region, and she was already becoming accustomed to its vast, snow-blanketed landscape. To her surprise, this stark world held a quiet charm. Snowball fights, wild boar hunts, and evenings by the campfire under open skies brought an unexpected sense of adventure to her days.

Above all, the second time was drawing near—the arrival of the next shooting star, and with it, a chance to see Deculein once again.

"Epherene, is even basic calculation beyond your abilities?"

“... Sorry?” Epherene replied.

As Deculein reviewed Epherene’s report, he scattered the pages with a sharp flick of his wrist and instructed, “See for yourself.”

Epherene narrowed her eyes as the documents drifted down around her, settling on the floor like a light snowfall.

“Have you been distracted? Make another mistake like this, and you’ll find yourself removed from your role as assistant.”

“I’m sorry.”

Uncertain what had sparked his reaction, Epherene hurriedly gathered the scattered papers.

“... Oh.”

A quick review revealed an error in the soil’s demonic energy concentration measurement. Epherene’s initial reading showed 0.0004%, but she had missed the depth adjustment. With the correction, the true concentration came out closer to 0.00056%.

“0.00056%... and even 0.0004% was already high. Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“If the data confirms it, then it stands, however unlikely it may seem. We’ll need to notify headquarters to reinforce northern policies.”

“... Yes, Professor. I’ll send the report immediately,” Epherene replied, clutching the documents to her chest as she hurried up the stairs.

Tap, tap. Tap, tap.

Reaching the fifth floor, where the Message Paper crafted by Professor Deculein linked directly to the Mage Tower, she prepared to send the updated soil readings with her pen about the demonic energy level. Just as she was about to begin...

“A report on celestial events that haven’t even happened yet...”

A dignified voice cut through the quiet, and Epherene instinctively straightened, turning slightly toward the sound. In the dim shadows just beyond the lamplight, crimson hair glowed with a smoldering brilliance, like embers alive in the dark.

“How mysterious.”

Epherene turned slowly, a faint stiffness in her neck, to find Empress Sophien standing there. She’d thought the Empress had left the day before, yet here she was again. Epherene had assumed she hadn’t bothered with the report—but it seemed she had read it after all.

“Your Majesty... as I’ve said before, it’s only a prediction... nothing definitive...” Epherene said.

“You’re hiding the truth from me.”

Epherene fell silent.

“Lying to the Empress... you do realize that’s no small crime.”

“N-n-n-no, Your Majesty, that’s not it—!” Epherene stammered, dropping to her knees without hesitation.

Sophien chuckled softly and replied, "Calm down—I’m simply curious. Earning my curiosity is worthy of praise on its own."

Epherene lowered her head, breathing heavily as her heart raced.

With a playful spark in her eyes, Sophien continued, "Tell me, Epherene—when that shooting star falls, do you travel to the future yourself?"

Sophien’s intuition was spot on. In truth, she had simply been testing the waters.

“Hup!”

However, Epherene’s startled reaction provided all the confirmation Sophien needed. With a single well-placed prod, Epherene’s defenses crumbled, revealing everything she knew—or wished she didn’t know.

“Interesting. With talent like yours, I imagine such things aren’t out of reach.”

"I remain deeply honored by your favor, Your Majesty..."

“That’s enough. Drop the formalities.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty...”

Sophien knelt slightly, lifting Epherene’s chin to meet her trembling eyes and asked, “Then tell me, could I go there as well?”

... Gulp.

A knot of anxiety tightened in Epherene’s throat, and she swallowed hard. Though shaken, she knew exactly how to answer the Empress.

“I can’t say for sure, Your Majesty. I... I just happened to end up there by chance...”

“Very well. So, the shooting star will fall in two days, is it?”

“... Yes, Your Majesty,” Epherene replied.

Sophien’s smile spread slowly, alluring and unhurried. Epherene tensed, captivated by her undeniable beauty.

"I'll accompany you on this travel. If it’s meant to be, then so be it; if not, it can’t be helped. But something tells me it will happen."

Time. Sophien felt certain of it. This unpredictable yet relentless force was bound to be on her side.

“... Yes, Your Majesty,” Epherene murmured, bowing despite herself.

As Epherene moved to bow again, Sophien held up a hand to stop her and said, "That’s enough. No need for all that. You have a certain charm, and you’re quite adorable. I’d rather you stay just as you are."

Under the watch of the Empress, Epherene’s voice quivered as she replied, “I remain deeply honored by your favor, Your Majesty...”