A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 309: Why Is My Time the Only One That’s Messed Up (4)

… Tick, tock. … Tick, tock.

Epherene’s eyes opened at a ticking sound as she looked around and found herself in a strange place—a cabin or log house with a wooden ceiling and floor—and then she pushed herself upright.

“Are you awake?” Quay said.

Epherene flinched and turned to Quay.

“This is interesting,” Quay muttered, reading Caasi’s science. “Photoelectric effect, Brownian motion, theory of relativity, gravitational waves, quantum mechanics, black holes… These books expressed the principles of nature and the universe through human scholarship.”

Whip—

“… Where are we?” Epherene asked, snatching the manuscripts with telekinesis and stuffing them all into her robes.

“It’s a temple,” Quay replied.

“Temple?”

“Yes, the temple where I served God for ten thousand years,” Quay said, a smile gracing his lips.

“Then, was it you who brought me here?” Epherene asked in a curt tone.

“You could say that. Why, don’t you like it? Deculein wanted to come here, you know.”

“… Professor?”

“Yes.”

This place is too modest and peaceful for Deculein to want to come here, Epherene thought.

Anyway, Epherene glared at Quay in silence.

“Are you asking where we are?” Quay said, raising his eyebrows.

“… Yes.”

“It is the outer edge of the world.”

The outer edge of the world was, by its very definition, outside the human world.

“It is not the afterlife. The place where souls reside is distinctly within the world. This is neither the afterlife nor the living world and it is a space outside of the world—a place where I always exist.”

“… Why only by yourself?”

Epherene found Quay suspicious because, though he now wore a kind and gentle face, he was after all a being with the insane ambition of resetting the continent.

“I have resided here for ten thousand years—perhaps even longer. I repeated prayers within a meaningless stretch of time, and when I regained my senses, I found myself here.”

Ten thousand years was a span of time too distant even for Epherene, a period that humans, at the very least, could not withstand.

“So, you’re saying you’re the cause of this space, this outer edge, are you?” Epherene asked.

“Yes, my prayers reached God. He gave me purpose instead of death,” Quay replied, a bright smile gracing his lips. “So this place is a space arranged only for me and my God. I am here, and the body and puppets I made are in your Phenomenal Realm.”

For reference, the Phenomenal Realm was a term encompassing both the living world and the afterlife.

“And Epherene, you are no different from me. You will wander infinitely through time from this moment forward, for time can no longer contain you.”

Epherene instinctively tightened her hand into a fist.

“Let’s see… if this were your life,” Quay continued, drawing a horizontal line with mana.

Through the center of the horizontal line, a vertical line was drawn straight down, serving as a central reference point.

“From the moment you received Sophien’s regression, until the day you live on.”

There was, for some reason, a questionable aspect to Quay’s words—why, of all times, since Sophien’s regression.

“You went to the past with Sophien before, didn’t you?” Quay added, a smile gracing his lips as he sensed Epherene’s confusion.

Epherene opened her eyes wide.

“Epherene, it’s impossible for just anyone to time travel with you,” Quay concluded.

At that moment, Epherene’s mind recalled her journey into the past, Deculein’s death, the words he left for Epherene, the wand, his kind and warm appearance, and… the falling shooting star.

“The comet fell. With that, time travel ended,” Epherene replied.

“Were you in that future?” Quay asked.

“I, along with everyone who knows me, must not encounter the version of myself who has slipped from time,” Epherene replied, shaking her head.

… Because from now on, I am no longer a person of that timeline. If anyone meets me like that, a time paradox will happen, Epherene thought.

“Yes, that’s right. You are alone,” Quay replied.

Time paradoxes would generate tremendous energy, causing mana exhaustion and posing a threat to life. This would apply to both Epherene and her opponent, unless in a unique space like Lokralen—a magical space that perfectly acknowledged the coexistence of paradoxes.

“… Are you asking me to combine my strength with yours, then?” Epherene asked, arching an eyebrow in a mocking tone.

“You won’t lend your strength to me now, will you? But you will eventually come back here—to me,” Quay replied, his expression unchanged as he looked at Epherene.

“One can only know by trying.”

“Do you believe you can withstand it? A single year for humans might stretch into a decade for you, repeating over and over.”

The blind spot of the time slip lay in the illusion that a day once lived would never repeat. However, Epherene’s time stretched without anchor or reference, allowing her to experience the same moments dozens, even hundreds of times.

“I know.”

“But will you be alright with that?”

“… Whether I will be alright or not, humans only know by trying. You wouldn’t know that, though,” Epherene replied.

“Yes, it is foolish,” Quay said, nodding.

“No, we are challenging,” Epherene replied, shaking her head.

At that moment… the panorama transformed, and a clear blue sky filled her vision.

Tick, tock— Tick, tock—

Epherene’s eyes fell upon the ticking pocket watch.

“… Hello?” Epherene called, speaking to the wooden pocket watch. “You can hear me, right?”

Tick, tock—

Anyone watching Epherene talk to the merely ticking pocket watch would have considered her insane. Yet, Epherene resolutely addressed the watch—no, the old man—as she pushed herself upright.

“I know it’s you. It’s old man Rohakan, isn’t it?”

Tick, tock.

At that moment, the ticking sound from the pocket watch stopped.

“Originally, you gave this to me, old man Rohakan, through Murkan, didn’t you?”

How could a mere pocket watch, without intellect, read my mind and show Deculein’s past? When I think about it, it’s nonsense—though Wood Steel was made that way by Deculein in the first place, Epherene thought.

“… Now that I think about it, perhaps I have always wanted to lean on something, to rely on something,” Epherene muttered, her words barely a breath. “I think I have always hated being alone.”

Perhaps even the properties of Curios are due to that habit of mine. I am lacking and incomplete, so I need Curios. I need my father’s help—the bracelet…

“It’s not needed anymore,” Epherene muttered, staring blankly into the pocket watch. “So you don’t need to overexert yourself now—oh, my tongue’s getting twisted. Why is it so cold?”

The cold was immense, a clear indication that winter had indeed arrived.

Whoosh—

At the mountain peak, the wind whistled, and the rustling of mountain beasts could be heard in the distance.

A-e-i-o-u.

“You really needn’t overexert yourself, old man Rohakan, but might I ask for just one thing?” Epherene asked, loosening her lips as she spoke.

Tick, tock—

The watch ticked, as if to answer in the affirmative.

“Then…” Epherene muttered, a smile escaping her lips.

***

Rustle— Rustle—

I was walking through the Imperial University campus, where flower petals drifted down, signaling the approach of winter. I had just heard from Allen that Yulie had awakened, and at the same time, that Epherene had disappeared.

“Professor.”

From behind, a familiar voice suddenly called my name. As I turned to look, I saw her—her hood pulled low, a bright smile on her face—and I was completely at a loss for words.

“… Epherene,” I replied.

“Would you like to share some Roahawk with me?” Epherene asked.

Though out of context, Epherene’s proposition came suddenly, but she approached with confident steps, holding out a thick envelope.

“Here you are, Professor, the selection exam answer sheet.”

With a glare at Epherene, I broke the seal and found the contents to be one hundred sheets of magic paper.

“What do you think?”

I silently reviewed the contents, but the moment I saw the first sentence, I knew that the process—and indeed the answer—would be perfect.

As I read through her homework, superfluous details were strangely absent, and all the logic fit together perfectly. I wondered whether she had become so intelligent all at once or if it was due to that phenomenon I had recently experienced.

“Epherene, time had briefly stopped,” I said, placing the answer sheet into an envelope.

However, Epherene showed no reaction, smiling calmly as if our eyes had met.

“Really? How do you know?”

“… There is such a thing as flow. For a moment, I recognized that the flow of time had been severed.”

“Hmm~ I see. But that’s not what’s important right now.”

“What?” I replied, my brow furrowing.

“Roahawk. R.o.a.h.a.w.k,” Epherene said.

***

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle—

Sizzle, sizzle—

Sizzle—

“It is now ready for you to eat. P-Please, enjoy your meal.”

The moment we entered Flower of the Pig, the owner led us to the uppermost floor, reserved exclusively for nobles.

“What? The meat’s color is different?” Epherene muttered, her eyes widening at the meat sizzling on the grill. “… Oh, there’s no way. All this time, they’ve been giving me just a medium grade or something like that? Wow, don’t they know how much money I’ve spent here?”

Without a word, I looked at Epherene.

“Julia, I need to have words with her.”

Epherene trembled with disappointment, but in truth, this was my doing, for I had imbued the Roahawk meat with Midas Touch. It was my first time using it on food, and it showed no obvious sign of change, though perhaps something would be different when eaten.

“The betrayal really stings…”

Epherene made an effort to slice a portion properly with her knife, but each motion was wrong and did not conform to etiquette.

Prick—

Epherene speared a piece of meat with her fork.

“… Professor, you should try some too,” Epherene said, blinking as she looked at me.

“You may eat first,” I replied.

“Okay.”

Whether she was asking me out of formality or not, Epherene put it into her mouth first without hesitation.

Then…

Epherene was rendered speechless. The moment she put it in her mouth, the meat melted and disappeared. Epherene’s face was utterly blank, as if an overwhelming delight was bubbling up from her very core.

“Wow… Julia.”

Tremble, tremble—

Epherene trembled as she called Julia’s name, then offered me the meat once again.

“Professor, please eat. The taste is actually incredible.”

I, too, nodded and moved my knife. Epherene watched as my knife sliced through the meat—a movement like cleaving the air, performed with perfect etiquette.

“It is actually different.”

I took a bite, leaving behind Epherene, who was muttering in admiration.

“… It is acceptable,” I muttered.

“Right? Although it’s more than just acceptable,” Epherene replied, a bright smile gracing her lips.

At that moment, I looked at my wristwatch and saw that little time remained.

I was about to tell Epherene to eat immediately, but there was no need.

Nom, nom— Nom, nom—

Epherene had already given up on cutting with the knife, instead, she gripped the chunk of meat with both hands and tore at it with all her strength.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes, five, then ten.

The moment I merely watched Epherene devour half the meat in such a brief time…

Whirrrrrrrrrr…

At that moment, the aura of mana settled—clean as detergent and subtly approaching—revealing itself as that of the Purger.

“The Purger will come,” I said.

“I know. I can feel it.”

“You know? But have you, perchance, come to turn yourself in to me?” I replied.

Gulp—

“It won’t work anymore,” Epherene replied, as she swallowed the meat she had been eating.

“… What?”

“By the way, Professor,” Epherene said, placing the wooden pocket watch on the table.

“What is this?” I inquired.

“This belongs to old man Rohakan, so please return it to him as it’s not needed anymore,” Epherene said.

I looked at the pocket watch, which appeared broken and didn’t move at all.

“I stopped it artificially for a moment, and time will flow again soon.”

Click—

At that moment, the second hand nearly jammed as the tip of the wooden needle trembled, seemingly about to move immediately, and Epherene’s face grew momentarily saddened upon seeing it.

“… It was really delicious today, Professor, perhaps because I ate with you. Can I take the rest, all of it?” Epherene asked.

“If you are able to take it all,” I replied.

Immediately, Epherene hugged the Roahawk to her chest, covering the entire pig with a mana barrier.

“Haha.”

Epherene smiled at me, who watched her with an incredulous expression, then changed her own expression again, her eyes, for some reason, growing sorrowful.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Like a puppy caught in the rain.

“And…”

Epherene broke off her speech, merely mouthing her lips as she uttered single syllables one at a time before finally shaking her head and biting back her words.

“… I’ll tell you the rest later,” Epherene concluded.

At that moment, three Purgers appeared, passing through the dining hall wall, while a mana whip lashed out with tremendous force.

Tick, tock—

However, in that brief moment, the second hand of the pocket watch advanced a mere single second, and Epherene disappeared—taking Roahawk with her, of course.

“… Hmm,” I murmured, wiping my lips with a napkin.

The Purgers’ faces were filled with immense shock upon realizing they had sealed off the entire area of Flower of the Pig with their own barrier.

“Each task you undertake proves fruitless, does it not?”

The Purgers looked back at me, their eyes brimming with indignation and shock.

“Had you remained still, you might have persuaded her to turn herself in,” I concluded with a smirk as I rose from my seat.

“The act of turning herself in is not required,” one of the Purgers replied. “Only culling—”

“Is Epherene a pig, that you would cull her?” I interrupted.

Although indeed she is half a pig, I thought.

“She is one of the most dangerous mages on this continent,” one of the Purgers said, shaking their head. “If a time paradox phenomenon were to occur—”

“In our Magical Realm, we typically name the most dangerous mage as an Archmage,” I interrupted, placing the napkin on the table and tidying my clothes.

“An Archmage is defined by their control over their talent. Uncontrollable power is nothing but a disaster on a grand scale,” replied one of the Purgers, shaking their head.

“That is precisely what I meant. Epherene is progressing towards that station.”

The Purgers were silent for a moment, their thoughts utterly unfathomable.

Although the individual force of the Purgers could well be considered the bane of mages, they utterly lack flexibility due to their isolation from the currents of society, I thought.

“Do you, then, refuse to offer us your cooperation?” one of the Purgers asked after a moment’s consideration.

“I will cooperate. However, whether I choose to offer my cooperation or withhold it, you will find yourselves unable to apprehend her,” I replied.

Indeed, their comprehension is clearly lacking.

Muttering to myself, I stepped out of the dining hall.

***

“Hoo.”

Meanwhile, having crossed through time, Epherene looked around at the scenery.

“When is this?” Epherene muttered.

First and foremost, Epherene drew the hood of her robe tightly over her head to prevent her face from being seen.

“I also need to get a mask…”

The Roahawk I held to my chest—keeping hold of this one cost me nine-tenths of my mana. Now, as I eat a hind leg, I admit it is delicious, Epherene thought.

“… But the taste is no longer as it was just a moment ago.”

It is delicious, yes, but the soul does not soar. I suppose that who you eat with matters as much as what you eat.

“More importantly, where am I?”

Whoooosh…

It was a beach with crashing waves, seemingly near Hadecaine, where Epherene looked toward the distant horizon and saw an island wrapped in black mist.

“… Oh, it’s Sylvia’s Island.”

The Island of the Voice, it’s over there, Epherene thought.

“Right,” Epherene murmured, a chuckle escaping her lips as if something had surfaced within her mind.

Then Epherene made a sweeping motion with her hand, and in that instant, a flattened oval—a space distortion portal—came into being.

With a single step inside, and it was immediately Sylvia’s Island—more precisely, in Sylvia’s gallery, the place where she displayed her painted works.

“Sylvia, you said it, didn’t you—that I would steal it?”

With a teasing mumble, Epherene walked among the Deculein paintings that filled this place…

“Wouldn’t it be better to be blamed after stealing than to be blamed without stealing?” Epherene muttered, selecting a painting that captured her the most from the gallery.

It was a Deculein portrait, sized like a small picture frame, staring straight ahead—neither beautified nor deteriorated—a painting so realistic it might be mistaken for a photograph.

“… I will not let you die, Professor.”

Epherene, having such resolve, took the painting from the wall.

Clack—

WAAAAAAAAAW—!

At that moment, a siren blared, but Epherene was merely smiling.

“Thank you, Sylvia. I’ll keep it close to me, like a charm,” Epherene muttered.

Tick, tock—

Within Epherene’s heart, the ticking watch sounded like a reverberation, signaling a slip from the timeline.

“Goodbye.”

And so, Epherene began an unending period of being cast away…