A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 120: Story (2)

"... Sylvia, the subject under surveillance, is currently residing on the Nameless Island she created."

The headquarters of the Sylvia Task Force, set up by the Intelligence Agency in cooperation with the Ministry of Public Safety, had been an ordinary house. It was one of the many red-brick complexes along the street of Bayjin, where most of Impurium's bureaucrats resided. The interior, like the furniture, was as unremarkable as the house itself.

"She appears to own a mansion on the Floating Island under her family’s name, though she rarely visits," an agent from the Intelligence Agency explained.

I sat on the living room sofa, surveying the task force members. Deputy Director of the Ministry of Public Safety, Lillia Primien, was there along with the Intelligence Agency's named agent character Lukehal and six others—each reputed to be highly capable.

Primien asked, "What of the monster Sylvia unconsciously created?"

"It appears to have vanished for the time being, but witnesses have described it as illustrated here."

The creature appeared as a tall, pale woman, her mouth filled with rows of jagged teeth, much like a shark's.

Primien scoffed, “That thing is disgusting. Get rid of it. Now, what’s the deal with Nameless Island, her so-called achievement that got her the rank of Monarch?”

At her question, the agent channeled mana into the crystal orb, projecting an image of the Nameless Island’s landscape.

"Hmm..." Primien murmured, folding her arms thoughtfully, as I watched in silence.

The red-haired agent, Lukehal, inquired, "What are your thoughts, Deputy Director?"

"... Now I see why she ascended to the rank of Monarch in just three months," Primien remarked, nodding in approval.

The other agents nodded in agreement, echoing her sentiment, but to me, the landscape of the Nameless Island was all too familiar. The swaying wheat and fallen leaves, vivid as a painting, and the sun’s fierce rays beating down—it all reflected an exam I had once designed. Sylvia had recreated Van Gogh’s canvas on that island.

"... She has learned well," I muttered quietly.

Primien and the agents turned their gaze toward me, their faces showing faint confusion.

With her usual cynical tone, Primien asked, "Are you just implying you taught her, or are you saying you actually did?"

"If you're truly curious, you can purchase one of my exam papers. They occasionally surface at auctions on the Floating Island. I'll even waive the intellectual property fees."

"... Auction?" Primien asked, casting a sideways glance at Lukehal.

Lukehal gestured to one of the agents, who promptly exited the room, likely heading for the Floating Island.

"Professor Deculein," Lukehal called, drawing my attention.

I turned to face him.

"What would you consider an appropriate surveillance grade? Your expert opinion would be greatly appreciated."

The surveillance grade, a measure of the subject’s threat level, was ranked from Black as the highest, followed by Red, Blue, and Green as the lowest.

"We're considering assigning her a Red grade," Lukehal continued. "Five people have already fallen victim to the creature Sylvia created. We believe Red would be appropriate."

Primien nodded in agreement with his suggestion.

Red indicated armed, close-range surveillance, assigned when the subject was considered a confirmed threat.

I shook my head and said, "That won’t be necessary. Green will be enough." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Excuse me?" Lukehal said, his expression one of clear surprise.

Green surveillance indicated distant observation only. Both Primien and Lukehal stared at me in disbelief.

"Lukehal hesitated before speaking, “Was there a particular reason behind that suggestion?”

“A mage capable of creating an entire island wouldn’t overlook being watched. Anything beyond Blue-level surveillance would just provoke unnecessary stress,” I replied.

"But—"

“And,” I interrupted, locking eyes with him. “She’s a good kid.”

All eyes shifted to me, their stares filled with a quiet intensity.

"We only need to observe from afar, watching how much Sylvia grows and how high she will ascend."

"... Sorry?"

"There’s no reason to treat a girl like a monster when she clearly isn’t. Given time, she’ll take care of the real threat herself," I said as I stood from my seat.

Lukehal rubbed his head thoughtfully, then nodded and said, "Well. We’ll proceed with the expert’s recommendation. For now, we’ll assign her a Green grade, though this decision remains subject to change."

"I’ll take my leave now. Continue your work," I said, making my way toward the exit, with Primien following closely behind.

"... Professor," Primien said, her voice as devoid of emotion as ever. "Do you feel any sense of guilt toward that child?"

As we walked down the path, I reflected quietly. Sylvia. Perhaps I had unknowingly formed an attachment to her, lingering over the regrets of our past. Or maybe...

"She’s just a poor child."

Pity wasn’t an emotion I often felt. As Deculein, such feelings were rare for me. But the truth remained—Sylvia’s life had been far from easy. She was a child who had endured too much in too little time. Hardened yet fragile, she had been slowly destroying parts of herself for years.

"There’s no need to push her any further."

Primien remained silent as we walked. After a while, she quietly turned and left, going her own way.

Meanwhile, the wind Sylvia had invented reached the distant ground below. It was a nameless spell, known only as the wind, and it cared nothing for distance or obstacles, traveling purely through mana as a medium, carrying the world’s sounds to her ears.

— ... She’s a good kid.

The sound carried by the wind echoed in her ears.

— We only need to observe from afar, watching how much Sylvia grows and how high she will ascend.

Deculein’s voice seemed to stretch endlessly, hanging in the air long after the moment had passed.

— There’s no reason to treat a girl like a monster when she clearly isn’t. Given time, she’ll take care of the real threat herself.

Sylvia had overheard every word. From thousands of meters above, she had listened in on those who claimed they would be watching her. But now, it was she who watched them.

— Do you feel any sense of guilt toward that child?

The question had come from Deputy Director Lillia Primien.

Deculein paused before answering.

— ... She’s just a poor child.

The moment those words reached her, Sylvia clenched her fists, her heart hammering in her chest.

I never wanted this kind of pity or sympathy. All I ever wanted was... Sylvia thought.

— There’s no need to push her any further.

Every word stabbed at her heart. Clenching her teeth, Sylvia muttered under her breath, “... That bastard.”

Idnik, who had been quietly brewing tea at the nearby table, glanced over. Sylvia’s tired eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Clicking her tongue, Idnik approached her and asked, “Sylvia, are you intentionally feeding your hatred?”

Sylvia snapped her head around, glaring at Idnik. Smirking, Idnik handed her a cup of tea and then sat beside her, gazing out at the island’s landscape. The scene was as picturesque as a painting. Swifty flew beyond the wheat fields, while Bearbie Panda played in the distance. Everything seemed peaceful, yet Sylvia’s expression remained tight with frustration.

Sipping her tea, Idnik said, “Relax. You’re too tense.”

“... Stay out of it.”

“Stay out? Sylvia, ever heard of physiognomy?”

"I don’t believe in that kind of nonsense."

“It’s not about belief; it’s a fact,” Idnik said, leaning in as she examined Sylvia’s face. Sylvia scowled and shoved her back. “A person’s expression mirrors their heart. If the heart rots, the face will follow.”

Sylvia paid her no mind.

“When you keep those rotten expressions for too long, they become etched into your face. That’s what we call physiognomy, and you’re showing it right now.”

Without a word, Sylvia stood and returned to the mansion she had crafted herself, a place painted as if with oil on canvas.

Idnik chuckled softly and said, “Yes, go ahead. Get some rest.”

***

The crescent moon hung in the night sky, shaped like a croissant. After being away for so long, Epherene finally returned to her dormitory. The sight of the moon, which reminded her of bread, had led her to buy three pastries on the way back.

With a small sigh, she set down her backpack and the bag of bread. Reaching under the bed, she pulled at an old travel suitcase. After several tugs, it finally clicked open. Inside were her father’s letters. She recalled the days when she had read through them all—sometimes with joy, sometimes in anger.

In her youth, she had clung to the hopeless hope that one day he would return, and they would be happy again. But those days were long gone. The girl she once was had disappeared, and her father’s time had come to a standstill, frozen forever.

“... Achilles’ heel.”

Ihelm had once insisted that she was Deculein’s Achilles’ heel, claiming that his kindness was nothing more than a calculated effort to flatter her. Yet, the future version of herself she had encountered in Lokralen—though those memories had blurred over time—had not treated Deculein as an enemy.

“I have no idea...”

Epherene sighed, blowing her bangs upward. Feeling unsettled, she opened her drawer and pulled out a sponsorship certificate—proof of Deculein’s backing. She set Ihelm’s witness application form down next to it.

“... Dad. I just don’t know,” Epherene muttered, staring at the papers. She ruffled her hair in frustration, lost in a sea of unanswered questions.

“Why...”

No matter how much she dwelled on it, the choices remained few. The only path to understanding Deculein’s true intentions and uncovering his past with her father was to accept the witness application form. Gripping the paper, she glanced out at the crescent moon, shaped like a croissant in the night sky. Epherene opened the bag and took a bite of the pastry.

***

The following day, I commissioned the Empire’s artisans to craft mirrors and oversaw the construction of a Mirror Tower in the back garden of the Yukline mansion. It marked the start of my earnest training to master the Origin.

“Master, is there anything else you require?” Ren, my butler, inquired.

I shook my head and said, “No, this will do. Ensure no one enters from this point on.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Ren bowed and left, I opened the door to the Mirror Tower. Inside, countless mirrors reflected endlessly in every direction. Standing at the center, I gave a nod of approval.

“... Definitely.”

I already felt my body and mana growing lighter. The Origin’s connection to mirrors meant their features, attributes, unique aspects, and very existence had become part of my talent. Enclosed by so many, I felt completely in my element—instinctual, yet powerfully attuned. Reaching into my pocket, I drew out a piece of Wood Steel.

Snap—!

With a flick of my fingers, the Wood Steel shot forward in a straight line before instantly refracting to the right. It seemed as though it had split into two, each piece moving independently.

“With a little more mana infused...”

The shuriken’s single path split into dozens, its blade gleaming as it reflected across the mirrors. It was now displaying the phenomenon of reflection.

"Its lethality must be remarkable."

When facing either a human or a beast, it would prove exceptionally useful. For now, it still required a mirror as its medium, but with further practice, I would soon be able to use any metallic surface as one—enabling even more advanced reflection and refraction.

“Hmm.”

Still, all of this remained just a stepping stone. My ultimate goal was to apply the Origin to Snowflower Stone, a clear and transparent metal that inherently possessed mirror-like qualities. It wasn't beyond reach.

“... Again.”

I returned to my training.

Clang—! Clang, clang, clang—! Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang—!

The Wood Steel ricocheted off the mirrors in quick succession, refracting and reflecting as it flew. The Telekinesis guiding it felt sharper than ever. I continued until nearly 90% of my mana was drained.

◆ Memorize Status:

Beginner/Intermediate Telekinesis (96%)

┏Beginner/Intermediate Fire Control (72%)

┣Beginner/Intermediate Fluid Manipulation (71%)

┗Metal Enhancement (95%)

“This will do.”

Both my Intermediate Telekinesis and Metal Enhancement were close to mastery. I still had time before the winter monster wave. After cleansing the sweat from my body with Cleanse, I stepped outside. Night had already fallen.

“Oh my, you’ve finally come out?”

However, an unexpected guest had been waiting for me.

"Good to see you~"

It was Josephine, seated at a tea table in the garden, sipping her coffee. She waved and said, "I’ve been waiting, wondering when you would come out~"

"... You seem quite satisfied," I said, adjusting my tie and straightening my clothes as I approached. "What brings you here?"

With a sly smile, Josephine replied, "I'll inform Yulie that Veron's body has been recovered. She'll likely arrange another funeral for him."

I remained silent while she went on speaking.

"Every knight of the Freyhem Knights Order will be present at the funeral, and that’s when I’ll take action, as per your request."

I nodded, and Josephine, pouting slightly as if in protest, added, “But... is this really the right way? What if Yulie gets too shocked and ends up taking her own life—”

“This is the most proper course of action.”

I understood the nature of the Eternal Winter attribute better than Yulie did.

"... Alright~" Josephine replied, tracing a finger along the surface of the tea table, repeatedly writing the same word.

Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse...

Then she lifted her gaze, fixing it on me, and said, “After all, it happened while she was protecting you. It’s only right that you take responsibility.”

Her voice was as cold as ice, and her empty gaze, devoid of any emotion, felt like a frozen abyss.

I answered, “Trust me. Yulie will be cured.”

“Yes, I’ll trust you. But... if she doesn’t get cured, I can’t say how I’ll change,” Josephine replied. Her hollow expression suddenly shifted into a sweet, innocent smile. She rose from her chair, taking just a few steps before dissolving into shadow.

“... Crazy bitch.”

Josephine, the most dangerous named Lunatic in this world, was undeniably a threat. Muttering to myself, I made my way back into the mansion.

Ren approached, as if on cue, and said, “Professor, Assistant Professor Allen has arrived to see you.”

“Allen?”

“Yes, sir,” Ren replied, gesturing toward the sitting room, where Allen sat, dozing on the sofa.

“Allen,” I called.

At the sound of my voice, he jumped up, a bright smile spreading across his face as he said, “Professor~”

“What brings you here?”

“... Oh! I’m running out of time! It’s about class preparation. How do you plan to handle the second lecture? It’s coming up soon.”

Class preparation. Without much deliberation, as I had already finalized my plan, I replied, “I’m planning to give a pop quiz.”

“A pop quiz? But we’ve only had a single lecture so far.”

“Those who couldn’t grasp the first lesson aren’t worth teaching in the second. Come with me.”

“Yes, sir!”

I led Allen up to the third-floor study. Leaving Allen standing there uneasily, I opened the drawer, retrieved a sheet of paper, and handed it to him. "Work through this. I have designed the problem myself."

“Y-yes, sir,” Allen replied, looking a bit tense as he accepted the paper and...

***

It was Wednesday, the day of Deculein’s biweekly lecture. Epherene arrived on the 80th floor of the Mage Tower, where the first thing that caught her attention was a cat sitting beside Kreto.

“Is that your cat, Grand Prince? It’s really cute,” Epherene said.

“Oh, no. It’s not mine,” Kreto replied. “Her Majesty left it in my care.”

“... Sorry?” Epherene said, startled, as she quickly withdrew her hand from scratching the cat’s chin.

The red-furred munchkin huffed, glaring at her with narrowed eyes, as if displeased by her touch.

“... I’m Sorry,” Epherene muttered, pulling back and slipping into her seat.

While this unfolded, the rest of the students gradually filled the lecture hall. At exactly twelve noon, Professor Deculein appeared, not a second off schedule.

“Greetings,” Deculein said.

“Oh, hey, Professah Deculein! That dang cat trashed all my notes last time, y’know? Ruined the whole lotta ‘em!” Rogerio blurted out, jabbing a finger at the red-furred munchkin. A few other mages gave the cat dirty looks, but it just flicked its tail, like it didn’t give a rat’s tail. “Look at that! So freakin' annoyin—”

“Silence. Sit,” Deculein ordered with a sharp gesture. Rogerio sulked but followed, sinking into her seat. “The lecture will begin now.”

Assistant Professor Allen entered the room just then, his face pale and exhausted. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his hands trembled faintly. There was something unsettling about his appearance, a sense of unease that lingered around him...

Deculein continued, “Today, I will administer a pop quiz.”

“A pop quiz?”

A quiz already, in just the second lecture? Epherene thought, glancing around.

The other students looked equally confused, though none seemed particularly shocked. Everyone was well aware that Deculein’s lectures followed his unpredictable style.

“Allen,” Deculein called.

“Y-yes, Professor,” Allen said as he shakily handed out the exam papers.

Epherene stared at the sheet resting on her desk. There was no sign of any magical treatment on it.

“All the quiz papers have been distributed,” Allen said.

Deculein nodded, standing at the center of the room with a timer in hand, and said, “No further questions. Begin.”

Click—

The timer clicked as it started. Epherene quickly flipped over the quiz paper.

“... What?”

The quiz contained only two questions.

"This... is like a completely foreign language."

However, the questions were absurdly difficult. The first one didn’t even have a single word in the Empire’s common language—only spells, calculations, and intricate magic circles.

As the students stared in disbelief at their papers, Deculein added, “This will be an open-book quiz. You may consult your notes and discuss with each other. However, should any conflicts occur, as they did before, the entire class will fail.”

Slowly, Epherene lifted her head and glanced around the room. Like her, many of the other students were anxiously searching for someone to team up with.