A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 169: Secret (1)

Epherene focused her thoughts, defining the intent of her spell with precision. She selected the categories that aligned with its purpose and connected a circuit to channel its energy. The process could be described simply, requiring no superfluous complexity.

Epherene believed in her talent, and thus she disregarded ornamental flourishes and intricate techniques, directing her focus on the fundamental essence of magic—its compression and heating. With the theory of Iron Man by Deculein instilled in her body and soul, it guided her as she extended her hand with measured precision, her movements deliberate and unhurried.

Whooooom...

The bracelet she wore, her personal artifact, began to glow with a brilliant blue light, its radiance awakening the mana buried deep within her core. The unleashed energy spread outward, swirling into the air before coalescing along her arm, coiling like a living stream of power.

"Haah!"

With a focus shout, she thrust her hand forward, unleashing the spell she had prepared. It was a wind property spell, belonging to the destructive category—the Cry of the Tempest.

Whoooooosh—!

The tempest burst from her palm, unraveling into countless threads of wind that slammed against the distant boulder with crushing force. In an instant, the massive stone fractured, splitting from its edges to its very core before crumbling into a cascade of fine fragments.

“Hehe.”

The spell’s execution was flawless—every detail, from its intricate design to its overwhelming force and precision, radiated perfection. A smile of pride curved on Epherene’s lips as she blew gently, dispersing the delicate wisps of smoke that coiled around her palm.

Then she turned to the professor observing her from afar and called out, “Epherene, demonstration complete, Professor!"

Deculein made notes on a document, part of the ongoing evaluation process. The task required assessing the strengths and weaknesses of knights and mages to forge well-balanced teams in preparation for the impending mission.

Deculein, his pen scratching across the document, replied, "You may leave."

“... Yes, Professor.”

As expected, no words of compliment were offered, leaving Epherene with a faint trace of dissatisfaction. She retreated to the base of a tree, its rough bark offering support as she settled against it. From her spot, she watched the next evaluation play out. It seemed Drent’s turn had come.

“Oh?”

At that moment, Epherene’s eyes widened. Down the distant pathway leading to Rekordak, she glimpsed a figure that seemed familiar.

“Professor Louina?!”

At the sound of Epherene’s voice, Drent turned toward her, while Louina offered a soft, knowing smile—a curve of her lips, marked by maturity.

Epherene and Louina gathered in the dining hall, drawn together by matters that sought to be shared.

"... Is it true? That he has no more than five years left to live? Are you entirely certain?" Louina asked.

“Yes, it’s true. I can’t share the specifics, but you have my word—it’s absolutely certain,” Epherene replied.

The two finally cast aside formalities, a change wrought by Epherene’s persistent efforts, which, in the end, wore down Louina’s stubbornness.

"That’s what I thought... I suspected as much, but having it confirmed leaves me with an unexpected emptiness," Louina murmured, her eyes falling to her tray. Epherene could empathize with her completely. "By the way... why is no one sitting there?"

Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Louina steered it elsewhere, and Epherene followed her glance. At a distance from the bustling crowd sat Yulie, Deculein’s fiancée, and her deputy, Reylie. No one approached their table, the space around them an invisible boundary no one dared to cross.

"That’s weird. The place is packed with people, but no one is sitting near them," Epherene replied.

The dining hall was crowded; but a strange emptiness hung in the air around them.

"Well, it’s not surprising, given how things ended with Deculein," Louina muttered.

“Sorry? Oh, but it’s not official yet, is it?”

"... Heh. It’s a matter of pride between two prestigious families—Yukline and Freyden. They are most likely negotiating the terms behind closed doors."

"Ah..." Epherene murmured, her head nodding in quiet understanding.

At that moment, someone settled into the seat beside Epherene.

“Who now?” Epherene muttered.

"Who else could it be? It’s me, Leaf," Ihelm said, his eyes narrowing sharply as he turned toward Louina. "You’re here too, I see."

“Yes, hello,” Louina replied.

"Since when were we acquainted enough for such greetings? Anyway, Leaf, how is work? I’ve heard news that you’ve been recklessly distributing Deculein’s theses."

“... N-no, that’s not true. I only read through them briefly with someone else...”

“Oh, Ihelm! Louina!”

Before she could elaborate, a cheerful voice rang out, interrupting the conversation.

“Hey, Ihelm! Louina!”

A bright and clear voice cut through the air, drawing the attention of Epherene and the others. Their eyes fell upon a blond knight approaching, his smile glowing with the warmth of sunlight breaking through the morning mist.

“Sirio?” Louina said, her eyes widened.

“Yes, it’s me, Sirio,” Sirio replied.

Epherene flinched at the sight of Sirio, the Deputy Knight of the Iliade Knights’ Order, renowned as the Master Swordsman—a figure of no small reputation. Alongside him, knights like Raphel and Gwen began settling into seats nearby.

“Why have all these people chosen to gather up here, filling the air with their sweat and noise?” Ihelm said in irritation.

With his constant smile, Sirio replied, "Why not? It’s been ages since we’ve gathered like this. It feels good to see old classmates reunited after so long."

“Old classmates?” Epherene asked in surprise.

“Yes, we’re all former classmates of Deculein, you see. I wonder if Yulie would join us, and make the gathering complete, you know—?” Sirio said with a nod, his words subtly pitched to ensure she could overhear.

It seemed Yulie had heard him; her movements froze, her utensils lingering momentarily in mid-air. Without a word, she rose from her seat and quietly exited the dining hall.

“... Great job, you’ve ruined everything,” Gwen murmured, giving Sirio’s shoulder a light swat.

Sirio rubbed his shoulder with a faintly apologetic smile and said, “Sorry about that. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if everyone made up while we’re all here?”

"Made up what? Do you even know Yulie? She’ll probably start eating in her office from now on, never to set foot in the dining hall again," Gwen said.

“Hmm... Fair point.”

"Yes, of course, it’s a fair point."

Epherene observed the conversation between these celebrities, figures frequently cast in the media’s spotlight, with a quiet fascination.

***

The long, dark nights of the Northern Region stretched endlessly as I sat by the window, snowstorms howling just beyond the glass. My attention, however, remained fixed on the list before me—the roster for the impending mission.

1. Yulie 2. Gwen 3. Devlyn 4. Drent.

1. Sirio 2. Lillard 3. Dement 4. Epherene.

1. Raphel 2. Ihelm...

Each grouping was meticulously arranged, their synergy balanced to ensure no disadvantage, no matter the monsters they might face. Drafting this list had consumed 3,000 mana through my Comprehension, a price that assured its effectiveness.

Knock, knock—

Just as I completed the final draft of the roster, a knock echoed through the stillness of the room. Without a word, I used telekinesis to draw the door open.

“Knight Deya, reporting,” Yulie said.

Yulie was, in essence, the one who bore the weight of Rekordak’s responsibility, managing its affairs and overseeing its operations.

"This is the status report on the Rekordak prisoners," Yulie said, placing the report before me.

With Sharp Eyesight, I studied her closely, and the once-looming shadow of an incurable curse had receded, her lifespan now stretching quietly into the years.

With a satisfied nod, I handed her the roster and said, "This is the list for the upcoming mission. Distribute it as needed."

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s another task for you to handle during the night,” I added.

“Yes, sir.”

I handed her three full-length mirrors, each matching her height, their weight pressing against her arms as she held them close. Though her face betrayed no emotion, the quiet intensity in her eyes held an unspoken demand for an explanation

“This is a map,” I said, presenting the artifact I had refined with the power of Midas’ Touch in the Ages. “The key locations are marked. Place the mirrors precisely at these locations and ensure they remain undamaged.”

With my newly acquired Origin, Mirror, this artifact embodied the very essence of its name—reflecting and refracting, but also the ability to bridge and connect distant spaces.

Through them, I could traverse to any location in the Northern Region where they were placed. Though the magic remained in its infancy and carried certain constraints, its potential was boundless—an unfurling horizon of possibilities.

“Yes, sir.”

Yulie did not press for further explanation. She secured the mirrors across her back and departed in silence, a figure seemingly carved from the very essence of the Northern Region.

"... At least now, she won’t lose her way," I murmured to myself.

Yulie had always been burdened by her Poor Wayfinding attribute, but with the map now in her hands, it should guide her steps, offsetting her innate disadvantage.

“Now...” @@novelbin@@

Returning to my desk, I prepared to lose myself in the only pursuits that sustained me in the Northern Region—writing and painting.

However...

Tap— Tap—

A sharp clink of stone against the windowpane shattered the stillness.

Tap— Tap—

Frowning, I rose from my chair and approached the window. As I slid it open, my eyes settled on a lone postman delivering letters waiting below.

"Oh, Professor! A message has arrived for you!” the postman called. “Here it is!”

The postman drew a letter from his satchel and tossed it upward. The envelope sliced through the air like an arrow, and I caught it mid-flight with a flick of Telekinesis.

"Well then, I'll be off!"

Whooosh—!

The sight of the postman’s departure was nothing short of extraordinary. In the blink of an eye, he vanished beyond the horizon; undoubtedly, he was a named character. Once again, it struck me how infinite the world was, brimming with hidden masters whose talents knew no bounds.

I opened the envelope, my eyes held captive by the swirling snowstorm beyond the window. Its fractured brilliance gleamed like scattered diamonds against the darkened sky, a fleeting masterpiece carved in the passage of time. With quiet reluctance, I pulled my focus away and unfolded the letter, letting its words draw me in.

Deculein... As I write, I imagine the Northern Region shrouded in its endless night... Perhaps this letter shall catch you off guard—surprised, even unsettled, by its personal nature~~ But rest easy, for there is no urgent reason behind this missive. No great purpose compels me, only the idle musings of a restless moment...

Though the letter bore no sender’s name, its voice resonated with a distinct familiarity. From the very first line, I knew without doubt who had written it.

It felt strange, but I found myself unwilling to use a crystal orb or message paper... Every now and then, this peculiar longing stirs within me—the desire to forsake magic and rely on something simpler... Haha~~

These phrases felt oddly familiar, as if I had encountered this style of writing somewhere, at some time, in messages from my parents' generation back on Earth.

In my determination to defeat you at Go... I have been diligently practicing the game... I’ve also set aside a bit of time for magic and swordsmanship... However, bunch of these fucking officials~~ What an endless stream of demands they bring... The more I dwell on it, the more their relentless expectations infuriate me... Damn it~~ They are enough to drive me insane...!

I let out a chuckle, realizing that perhaps some things were universal. In moments like this, the weight of Sophien’s centuries of life became evident. She had lived for more than a few centuries, an elder by any measure.

However, given that much of her experience revolved around death, her mind bore neither the maturity nor wisdom one might have expected from her age...

News has reached me of your dedication to writing in the Northern Region... And it has sparked a thought within me...! Perhaps you could author a book on Go while you are there... I entrust to you the task of preserving the game's legacy.

And who knows? Somewhere, hidden in the world, there may be untapped talent capable of surpassing both you and me, unknown to us.

"A book on Go..." I murmured, placing the letter down.

Were the game of Go to spread more easily, it would undoubtedly bring joy to Sophien. To seek what might delight the Empress was my duty as her loyal subject—a responsibility engraved into the very core of my being.

I regarded myself as Sophien’s loyal subject, a belief sculpted, in part, by Deculein’s character and passions. His resolute allegiance to Elitism and the hierarchy of status elevated the Empress—Sophien herself—to its pinnacle, binding my loyalty forever.

Let me bring this letter to a close... It has been nearly a century since I last wrote anything by my own hand—though whether it has indeed been a hundred years, I cannot say~~

Regardless, this is the first time I have taken up the pen in ages, so forgive its clumsiness... You need not trouble yourself with a reply...! Deculein, you arrogant, insufferable one... Persevere well in the Northern Region~~

For some reason, the strangely endearing letter ended there. I drew a fresh sheet of paper from the drawer and imbued it with the Midas Touch, preparing it as my reply to Her Majesty. Then, I penned a single sentence across its surface.

Yes, Your Majesty. I will strive to fulfill your will to the best of my abilities and with all my effort.

***

Meanwhile, Yulie and Reylie carried out their night mission. The snowstorm raged like a living tempest beneath the subzero sky, but not a single complaint passed from Yulie’s mouth.

"He is clearly trying to make fools of us?! Don't you agree? Don't you agree?!"

However, Reylie had a fit, her face contorted in frustration as she muttered complaints toward Yulie.

Yulie sighed, shaking her head and covering her ears, then replied, "Alright, I get it. I understand what you mean."

"And honestly, he chooses to send elites like us for this? What manner of mission is this? At night? And mirrors, of all things? Mirrors—?!"

"... Place it there. It marks one of the key locations on the map," Yulie said, her finger pointing to a basin nestled on a nearby mountainside.

"Hmph!" Reylie muttered, stomping forward and driving the mirror forcefully into the marked spot.

"Careful, Reylie. It might break.”

"Let it break, for all I care!"

“... Reylie.”

At that moment...

Whooooosh—!

The snowstorm intensified, and Reylie flinched. It wasn’t just the storm growing fiercer; the chill carried a surge of mana, freezing the very air in its path. This was no ordinary blizzard—it was a magical phenomenon.

“Oh, great! A magical snowstorm, of all things—why now, of all times!”

"Don't worry. The Waystation is close by," Yulie said, spreading open the map—a surprisingly convenient artifact. "Guide us to the nearest Waystation, please."

The map not only revealed its user's current location but also provided clear direction to the nearest Waystation—an extraordinarily practical and dependable tool for its purpose.

"Where does it say we are to go?!"

"Come, follow me," Yulie replied.

"Okay, okay. Let’s go, let’s go. If we stay here for too long, I'll freeze to death— Oof!"

Yulie scooped up the chattering Reylie into her arms and dashed along the path revealed on the map.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, wait! Is that someone over there?!” Reylie exclaimed.

As they made their way down the slope, a group of people came into view on the far side. At first, they were little more than silhouettes in the distance, but as they drew closer, their forms gradually became clearer.

Reylie’s eyes widened as she exclaimed, “Ria!”

Reylie then slipped from Yulie’s arms and ran toward them, with Yulie close behind.

“Oh! There’s Reylie!”

Three children stood there, throwing themselves into Reylie’s arms, their smiles radiating like sunlight.

“Leo and Carlos! You’re here too. It’s so good to see you~”

“Long time no see~”

“Reylie! Long time no see!”

Yulie watched the four of them exchange warm greetings, then turned to Reylie and asked, "... Reylie, are they people you know?"

“Oh, yes, of course!” Reylie replied. “Hey, guys, this is Knight Yulie.”

“Hello, nice to meet you,” Ria said, smiling softly.

Yulie felt a strange emotion as she looked at the child's face, a sensation she could neither name nor fully comprehend.

"There should be a Waystation nearby. You’re cold, aren’t you? Come, join us," Reylie said. “Knight Yulie?”

“... Oh, yes. That’s right. Follow me—I’ll take you all to the Waystation,” Yulie said to the group, leading them forward.

The Waystation soon came into view, its warm, inviting cabin glowing softly in the distance.

With a bright smile, Ria pointed toward it and said, “You wouldn’t believe how many times this place has saved our lives.”

"Really~? Oh, Ria, you're too sweet for this world," Reylie said.

Yulie first approached and swore an oath to uphold the rules and registered, then pushed open the door to the Waystation.

“Come on in—”

Yulie glanced over her shoulder as she spoke, but when she turned back around, her entire body tensed in surprise. Inside the Waystation, three people were already huddled together, sipping tea.

“... Hmm.”

One was a beauty with golden hair, and the other was a public servant with dark navy locks. They were Sylvia and Primien, both well known to Yulie.

“... Umm. You are here, Yulie.”

Now, however, before her stood someone far larger than the two of them combined—a knight whose towering presence was both intimately familiar to Yulie and, at times, more distant and terrifying than that of a stranger—Zeit von Bluegang Freyden.

With a hand as broad as a bear’s paw, he scratched the back of his neck and said, “Well... somehow, I ended up here too. Hahaha. Ahem.”

Yulie stared blankly, her eyes flickering between the three. Sylvia cast a brief sidelong glance before turning away sharply, her head held high in clear displeasure.

Next, Primien held Yulie’s eyes, offering a slight nod in quiet acknowledgment. Finally, Zeit, whose presence there made no sense to her, chuckled to himself and turned away. It was a strange combination she could never have imagined.

“Why are you just standing there? Come inside and sit down. It appears you have company,” Zeit said.

“... Yes, brother.”

With the cold biting in the air, Yulie had no choice but to send the children indoors.

“All right, everyone, let’s head inside the Waystation... Oh! What in the world?!” Reylie gasped, stopping in her tracks at the sight of Zeit, startled, stumbling back and falling to the floor.

Behind her, Leo, Carlos, and Ria reacted in much the same way, their faces pale with shock. The children flinched and took hesitant steps backward.

They seemed to have felt Zeit’s overwhelming strength coursing through their very beings. His physical presence, the sharpness of his features, and the sheer weight of his commanding aura were enough to leave anyone breathless. Had an ordinary person stood before him, their legs would have given way instantly.

Zeit frowned, his displeasure evident, and said, “What’s with those faces? Did you see a monster? Just come inside already...”