A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 266: Knight and Mage (2)

… People had gathered in the hall of the old mansion, but with the Altar excluded, fewer than ten remained.

The others are gone—either dead or they managed to escape, I thought.

“… They’ve fallen asleep,” Louina said, brushing back her long green hair as she motioned toward the back.

Epherene, the Chairwoman, and Primien were asleep near the sofa, with Adrienne lying on Epherene’s lap, Epherene leaning against the backrest, and Primien sleeping on the floor.

“Since when did you two become so close?” Louina asked, a smile tugging at her lips. “Epherene hugged you as if she’d forgotten Yukline was supposed to be terrifying.”

I shook my head without saying a word.

“Thanks to the Chairwoman, the rumor will reach every corner now.”

It was humiliating—and it still makes my stomach turn. Right there in front of Adrienne and everyone else, Epherene suddenly wrapped her arms around me and confessed that she’d overheard my conversation with Yulie.

I was seriously considering punishing Epherene by making her grade papers at the Mage Tower’s Thesis Colloquium or scrub the bathrooms—maybe both.

“Well, let’s just leave the Chairwoman to her nap, as she will likely not be any help at the moment. I’d slip her a sleeping pill if I had one.”

This was no place for fairies, and in it, Adrienne couldn’t channel the insight expected of an Archmage. Then again, she was a rare case—someone who had reached the summit with only destruction spells.

“But do you really think Decalane will come for us?”

“He will come,” I replied.

Epherene said Decalane would come when the sun set—that he had something to tell me.

“But she’s braver than she looks, knowing that not many would dare talk to Decalane like that,” Louina said with a chuckle.

“Epherene has the talent of an Archmage,” I replied. “Though, at present, she’s far too foolish to realize it.”

I fell silent for a moment and checked my wrist watch—it was five in the afternoon. It was too early to call it evening, but the sky was already darkening as the eclipse neared.

“This eclipse will last for about two hours—you have until then to find a way,” Sirio said, and then half of the old mansion sank into the shadow of darkness.

“Why are you always slipping around when you won’t even offer a single bit of help? And by the way, how did you end up in a cult like that?” Louina asked, her brow furrowing.

“Haha. A cult? Honestly, I have no idea. But look—over there,” Sirio replied, pointing to the darkness beyond.

From where Sirio pointed, an eerie chill began to seep through—the unmistakable presence of a ghost.

I turned back, and Adrienne was snoring as if none of it mattered.

Snore— Snore—

Even in the room echoing with snores, I locked my eyes on the shape rising from the darkness, focusing through my Sharp Eyesight.

“There you are.”

The ghost of the dead, calling out to me from the dark.

“My son.”

It was Decalane.

***

In the depths beneath the cursed old mansion, Decalane guided me to the very bottom. Even as a ghost, it seemed he had lived here like a human—every trace of his magic research was organized with care.

“Take a seat,” Decalane said as he took his place in the chair at the center of the underground, turning his eyes toward me.

Without a word, I took a seat across from Decalane, his face unreadable, and I didn’t bother to show much either.

However, something felt strange within me.

Is this man the father of Deculein, or the father of mine? I thought.

At times like this, I couldn’t help but get confused.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Was it you who locked the door?” I inquired.

“No, the old mansion locked it. It has will, thought, and purpose. It keeps us together—and it’s no less a living thing than a human,” Decalane replied.

My brow tightened.

Decalane crossed one leg over the other.

“Was it your spell?”

“No, I only offered a little help to it. The old mansion gained awareness on its own, and now, it is furious.”

“Why is it furious?”

“The old mansion desired to swallow the Empress.”

I remained silent.

“The Empress was never meant to leave this place, but a soul led her through a hidden passage.”

I already knew which soul he meant.

“Then what is it that the old mansion wants?”

“You know as well as I do—there’s a calamity within the Empress, that it thought itself God.”

The soul of the Altar’s God waited outside the world, ready to descend—but its body, at least, seemed to have already arrived in this world.

“He shaped his body to perfection and sent it down into this world. That body was Sophien. His trace lives on in her flesh—and when the time is right, He will assimilate with her soul.”

This wasn’t how the main story was written.

Had something gone wrong, or had I been wrong to believe the story was already decided? I thought.

“Iggyris was the first to know, and he tried to end it by destroying the body. Sophien held Authority—and that alone prevented her from dying.”

Death Regression—an Authority that made it impossible for Sophien to ever die.

“Now it’s only a matter of time. The maggots of the Altar acted too soon and rushed into action. Soon enough, Sophien will be assimilated with God.”

However, that Authority now belonged to Epherene, not Sophien—and the Altar had led it there. While it had supported Sophien’s growth, when it came to God’s descent, it had become an overwhelming obstruction.

“You know what must be done. Kill Sophien, Deculein. If you make the oath to do so, this old mansion will release you,” Decalane continued. “This mansion has stood as a silent witness to the Empire’s long history. It does not wish for the fall of the house, the Empire, or the continent, as much as you all do.”

“I refuse,” I replied with conviction.

At that moment…

Boom—!

The entire space around us trembled violently.

“Your reason?” Decalane inquired, his expression unchanged.

“Because I know my future—death, and not far from now.”

Decalane remained silent and merely watched me.

“However, knowing my fate does not mean I must accept it. Rather, it gives me a reason to change it.”

Decalane’s brow furrowed, and his expression darkened as a cloud passed overhead.

“I have no intention of accepting such a future.”

I couldn’t help but find it laughable—this God and the tidal mess He’d thrown me into.

“… I even left Yulie behind,” I continued with a smile.

However, a dark flame burned inside my heart, and the heat was already rising to my throat.

“Now they’ll face what they have to pay the price for,” I added, as if the words had been scorched into my breath.

Telekinesis stirred in my hand as the aura of mana bloomed around me, and the entire space began to tremble, as if resonating with it.

“I am Yukline.”

“I’m proud of you,” Decalane said, watching me in silence before nodding and letting his expression soften.

My expression stiffened, and just like that, everything in my mind went completely blank.

All of a sudden, I felt Deculein’s emotion brushing against my heart, and at those words from Decalane, a joy I hadn’t expected filled me. It brought back the old days—the ones when Deculein chased the recognition of a father who was too perfect to touch and colder than anyone he’d ever known…

“Deculein, I only ever wanted Yukline to be the greatest,” Decalane continued as he stood. “And so I pushed you without mercy, withheld my faith in you, and continued my obsession with immortality—all for that single desire.”

While he spoke, Decalane scanned the piles of research that lined the old mansion—his life’s work laid bare around him.

“If I were asked whether I would leave behind a hollow legacy, enough to be laughed at by the world, or become a monster to raise my house to greatness—I chose the latter. Even if it meant the world branded me with the stain of corruption, even if I had to live in another man’s body—as long as I could build a house worthy of greatness—it was worth every cost.”

I looked at Decalane in silence.

“Even until today, I had not trusted you,” Decalane continued, picking up a tome left untouched in the far corner.

As ghosts couldn’t interact with anything physical, Decalane created a magical vision crafted entirely from mana—a unique magical study he named the Study of Art Magic. Coincidence or not, right now I had a quest reward called Category Talent Selection.

“But now, you are worthy of my trust to leave the house to you,” Decalane continued, offering the tome into my hands and meeting my eyes once more. “Indeed, just as you said—you are Yukline. I care not who you once were, or what soul resides within you.”

There was something in Decalane’s words that gave me the feeling it meant more than it seemed. That he said no matter what my soul was now wasn’t just a passing phrase, as my soul wasn’t just Kim Woo-Jin’s or Deculein’s—it was both, merged together.

“Use demonic energy, Deculein. Spare no method, spare no means. Those who speak of morality or virtue in critical moments—rend them where they stand. Those who preach ethics or judge character—crush them without mercy.

“This world runs on a single principle—survival of the fittest, and from those who cannot even understand their origin, there is nothing worth learning from.”

There was a strain in Decalane’s voice when he spoke of the house—an old pride clashing with something far more personal.

“… Be the demon,” Decalane muttered, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Show the world the prestige of Yukline. Let them see it—through your elegance, your confidence. Let your dignity speak—for you, even to a God, an Empress, or a giant.”

Decalane’s crimson eyes locked onto mine.

“Make them fear Yukline.”

… In that moment, the way Decalane spoke, he was Yukline to the bone, more than anyone ever could be, and suddenly, everything about him made sense.

“However, don’t you know? I have killed you,” I replied as I slipped the Study of Art Magic into my coat and stood, meeting Decalane’s eyes.

“Beasts do not honor their parents. The parent raises, the children grow. If that child were to become the king of all beasts—no, to become the king.”

Decalane used mana to straighten my clothes.

… Could this, too, be called a father’s care? I thought.

“You must be willing to step over even your own parent’s blood. After all, do you not remember that I was the one who pushed Kagan to kill your fiancée?” Decalane added.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and Kim Woo-Jin—who had been raised as an orphan before he ever learned what love looked like—couldn’t say for sure if this was love or something else entirely.

However…

“You are nothing more than a wandering spirit,” I said.

Deculein couldn’t stand the thought of becoming like his father—he found it disgusting. But the recognition he had earned from him was something else that he seemed to accept.

“However, whatever it may be, this place holds my memory, and I must meet him.”

“You could die because of it,” Decalane said.

“It is merely laughable.”

At that moment, something about Decalane’s face changed for the first time—and it was a smile.

“He knows Sophien, perhaps better than she knows herself. For that reason, I must meet him,” I said.

“Then go. That memory, too, is waiting for you. I will open the door to the old mansion for you,” Decalane replied.

I nodded and turned to leave—only to find him standing there.

“Has Her Majesty come to a decision?” I inquired, meeting the eyes of the one that mirrored mine.

“This is the decision. As you said, I know Sophien better than she knows herself. On the surface, she may resist, but deep within, she desires for us to remain at her side,” he replied.

“… Is that so,” I replied, smiling. “How interesting. I’ve come to the same conclusion.”

***

… The Altar’s sudden attack on the Imperial Palace was over in a single night. Their Perception Barrier, meant to cloak them, ended up working against them—trapping them inside their own spell with no way out.

Click-clack—Click-clack—

Sophien walked through the garden of the Imperial Palace, now fallen into silence, where among the corpses of the Altar were those they had slaughtered—maids and eunuchs caught in the massacre.

“…Your blood and broken bodies will fertilize the ground,” Sophien muttered, standing among the corpses. “From your deaths, and the fury of the people, will rise—and with it, it will justify the expedition to the Land of Destruction.”

The Empress always had a plan, and even the bombing of the Altar’s temple, reduced to ash, was no accident, nor was the event she held in the Imperial Palace. In the end, it all came down to one thing—her faith in Keiron. The blood spilled in their sacrifice would not be forgotten but absorbed into the machinery of politics.

“Since more than half of the eunuchs who flitted from faction to faction, pestering me for favor, are now gone…”

However, Sophien fell silent, her voice caught the moment she saw her—a woman buried among the corpses.

“… Hmm,” Sophien murmured, her face tightening as she made her way toward it.

Sophien dropped to her knees before the maid Ahan, right in the middle of that living hell, as Ahan lay there, as if death had merely claimed her in her sleep, and Sophien looked into that gentle face one last time.

Then, without meaning to, Sophien remembered what Rohakan once told her—that anyone who walked beside her was destined for misfortune.

“You…”

“Cough—!Cough—!”

Ahan, who had looked dead just seconds ago, suddenly coughed, and Sophien startled, snatching her hand back and clearing her throat as if nothing had happened.

“… Your Majesty?” Ahan muttered, blinking through the haze to find Sophien standing beside her.

“W-What’s this now? Were you merely lying there, playing dead or something?” Sophien said, crossing her arms.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I was hiding under the corpses… but forgive me, what of Your Majesty’s—”

“Hmph. I’m fine,” Sophien said. “The attack has already been dealt with.”

“Oh~ I’m so glad to hear that, Your Majesty.”

“You’re a lucky one, aren’t you? Now go get some rest.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I’m so glad…”

With that, Ahan passed out again, and without meaning to, Sophien found herself smiling.

“I’m relieved, Your Majesty,” Keiron said from behind Sophien as he followed in her steps.

At that moment, the sunlight began to fade, and the darkness of the eclipse swept over the land.

“… And what exactly is there to be relieved about?” Sophien replied, raising her eyes to the sky, where the moon had begun to consume the sun.

“That it seems Your Majesty has finally found a man who can shoulder the weight of you, Your Majesty.”

“… What did you just say?” Sophien said, turning to him with a look of sheer disbelief.

Barely holding back a smile, Keiron said, “Unless I’ve mistaken things entirely, this is a matter of Your Majesty’s one-sided emotions toward—”

“Shut that mouth, you damned fool. You show your face and the first thing out of your mouth is nonsense. Have you forgotten what knightly virtues look like?”

“Wasn’t it Your Majesty who once said I kept too quiet? More importantly,” Keiron replied, then gestured behind him, where he stood. “It’s the Professor, Your Majesty.”

When Sophien met Deculein’s eyes, something stirred in her heart, making her smile and feel a hush of sorrow.

“… Professor.”

Sophien whispered and her chest ached with regret, and she had only herself to blame—and never once had she thought to lie to him and not with anything.

The decision Sophien had made without even realizing it herself made Deculein into…

Thud— Thud—

Even as Deculein stepped closer, Sophien stood unshaken, holding herself with the same calm dignity that had always defined her—as the Empress.

However, there was an awkwardness in Sophien, as she wasn’t used to feeling sorrow in moments like this—the weight in her chest made her feel like a stranger to herself, and that was always the way with Deculein—he had a way of taking something from her bit by bit.

Therefore…

“Professor—?”

Deculein moved to approach Sophien but stopped midway, looking to Keiron, who, without hesitation, looked right back.

Then…

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been some time, Keiron,” Deculein said.

“Likewise. It’s been a while, Professor,” Keiron replied.

They seemed to understand something in that look, a smile tugging at both their lips, before they shook hands without another word. Sophien blinked in confusion, and a second later, her brows knitted together in a tight line.

How dare they treat their Empress as if I am on the sidelines, Sophien thought.

“Professor, Her Majesty is losing her patience. Best not keep her waiting.”

Only then did Deculein turn, his eyes finally settling on the Empress.

“Leave,” Sophien said, offering no further glance.

Keiron chuckled.

Sophien’s eyes flared as she turned toward him.

“There’s no need to worry, Your Majesty. There’s no harm to me,” Deculein said with a shake of his head.

“… Nothing at all?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Deculein said as he stepped closer, kneeling before Sophien, his eyes already bearing the weight of what he knew. “… It seems Your Majesty has grown far more than I imagined.”

The Professor had been with Sophien since she was a child—for more than a hundred years—which meant that he was more used to the child she once was.

However, it was far too bold a thing to say to the Empress, and Sophien’s cheeks flushed with heat, though she held her chin high.

“Y-You’ve gone absolutely mad!”

… It was an emotion Sophien had never experienced before in her life.

***

Whooooooooosh…

As Yulie regained consciousness, the first thing she heard was the howl of wind and snow, and that biting sound was all she needed to know—she was in Freyden.

Snap—!

Feeling like her chest had been ripped open from the inside, Yulie’s eyes snapped open, and her body writhed without thought, as if trying to crawl away from the pain itself. Yulie coughed blood, her scream tearing through the frost, but even through the chaos, a gentle touch reached her as someone held her, as if to hold her together.

“… Yulie.”

As Josephine called her name, Yulie felt the storm inside her begin to settle, and her breathing staggered into a rhythm, each syllable guiding her back from the edge.

“… Sister,” Yulie muttered, wrapping both arms tightly around Josephine’s arm.

“Yes, it’s me. Just breathe,” Josephine replied.

Although Josephine spoke with warmth in her voice, to Yulie, that tenderness felt like a mirror—one that only made her feel smaller inside.

“I…” Yulie said, struggling to speak through clenched teeth, barely able to hold herself together. “I’ve done something unforgivable. It’s all my fault. I—”

“I’m sorry, Yulie. I knew all along.”

“… Eh,” Yulie murmured, her breath catching in her throat like a hiccup in her chest.

“Everything is in there—the corruption committed by a few members of Freyden, and what really happened with Rockfell and Veron,” Josephine said, placing the file in Yulie’s hands.

Yulie remained silent.

“Rockfell deserved what he got, as he was a man who traded lives like they were nothing. Don’t feel sorry for him.”

Yulie had been staring at the file of documents when, without warning, she reached out and began flipping through the pages—one, two, three, four—faster with each turn.

Prisoner trading, embezzlement, and instigation of murder? Yulie thought.

“… What is all this?” Yulie muttered, raising her eyes back to Josephine.

“Rockfell’s crime was never exposed because Deculein wanted it that way. So don’t place the fault on anyone—not you, not him. The fault lies with Rockfell alone.”

Leaning into the bedframe, Yulie stared blankly out the window, then a hollow laugh escaped her, as if something inside had given out.

“Why did Father… do what he did back then?” Yulie muttered.

“… He must have believed it was the right thing, back then,” Josephine replied, picking up a brush. “If Decalane had gotten his hands on Marik’s core, it would’ve led to human experimentation on the weakest lives. Maybe Father was trying to stop that.”

Josephine ran the brush through Yulie’s hair.

Swish— Swish—

The strands shimmered as the brush passed through, her long white hair swaying like snow falling through silence.

“Father, he was too much of an idealist,” Josephine said. “Always chasing after good, more than to his house, or to his own children.”

Such beautiful hair, like silk and starlight, but her eyes— they’re so empty. Like she’s not really here. Like she’s already fading. It’s too sad to watch…

“… If you’re really sorry, Yulie,” Josephine said, placing the bracelet in her hands.

Yulie stared at the bracelet in her hand, Iggyris’s one and only gift to her.

“Then live. Keep living, even if all you have left is resentment toward Father.”

“Brother-in-law—no, I suppose he’s not that anymore. Looks like I’ll need to rethink what to call him,” Josephine said with a smile, holding out a newspaper. “Here, take a look. Yulie, you’re officially free now.”

With bleary eyes, Yulie stared down at the newspaper, the headline burning into her thoughts.

Freyden–Yukline Engagement Comes to an End: Official Statement Released

“By the way, it’s been two weeks since the Imperial Palace was attacked. Hard to believe how quickly time slipped by.”

For two weeks, Yulie remained asleep, and during that time, everything outside had changed.

“Deculein came to see you, too.”

“Oh!” Yulie murmured, her eyes flying up.

“Your signature was required to break the engagement. You were unconscious, so we took care of it for you.”

“… Oh,” Yulie murmured, her eyes distant as she nodded.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Josephine asked, watching Yulie with a look that held both affection and concern before her tone changed.

“… Pardon me?”

“I’m asking how you’re going to live from here. Are you just going to give up? Will you waste it—this life the Professor risked everything to save?”

Even as she spoke with Josephine, fragments of Deculein kept rising in Yulie’s mind—his words, his sacrifices, the secrets he carried for her sake, her father’s secrets followed, and Freyden’s sins. They all surfaced like smoke she couldn’t wave away.

“No, I won’t,” Yulie replied, shaking her head.

“That’s good. Then what are you going to do now?”

“… It hasn’t changed,” Yulie said as she pushed herself off the bed, swallowing the leaden throb in her chest.

“What do you mean, it hasn’t changed?” Josephine asked.

“I need to become a knight,” Yulie replied, removing the thin clothes from the sickbed and pulling her armor over her shoulders.

“… Of who?”

“Of the one I owe everything to,” Yulie replied, buckling her sword to her waist.

At Yulie’s words, Josephine felt the brush of jealousy, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and before she knew it, she was smiling.

“I know there’s no undoing what’s already been done, and I know I wasn’t meant to live much longer in this body.”

Freyden’s winter, and Yulie, had always felt like a mirror of it—beautiful in a way that never asked to be understood.

“My life is nothing more than a borrowed extension.”

It died when the days grew soft, surviving only when the world turned bitter, but even winter, for all its cold, was never without warmth. The winters in Freyden were cruel, but even in that frozen silence, hope remained—thin as frostlight. Among the people of the Northern Region, they named that hope for what it was—will.

“However, a life extended by another’s is not mine to discard, and what’s been given isn’t mine to throw away.”

Now dressed in her knight’s armor, Yulie turned to Josephine once again.

“Because this borrowed time does not belong to me.”

Yulie accepted Iggyris’s bracelet on her wrist and wore it willingly, never knowing it was a symbol of resentment she couldn’t name.

“Therefore, I will survive and become a better knight.”

With her chin propped in one hand, Josephine watched Yulie, a proud smile touching her face.

“And when that time comes, I want to give myself to him. I want to become his sword,” Yulie concluded.

Whoooooosh…

Outside, the blizzard continued to rage against the window, but inside, the room held warmth, and with the will of the patient still burning, that was enough for Josephine—even if that flame looked ready to go out at any moment…=

“A little jealous, I won’t lie. But I’m glad you’ve chosen to continue surviving,” Josephine muttered, almost without meaning to.

Really, it might be a good thing after all, Josephine thought.

“… But I kind of wish Deculein would return you to me someday.”

Yulie remained silent.

“Just kidding~ Hehehe.”