A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 114

Chapter 114: Bachelor of the Mage Tower (2)

Ihelm’s appearance had changed noticeably since I last saw him in Berhert. He was thinner now, his face pale and hollowed.

"Have you been cutting back?" I asked.

“... They say it’s hard to stomach someone else’s success. Watching you thrive makes life miserable. The world feels stifling, like I’m choking on every breath.” Ihelm sneered, his smile twisted with bitterness.

I observed the magical energy flickering around him with my Sharp Eyesight and said, “You’ve made progress, despite it all.”

“... Don’t assume you understand me. What could you possibly know?”

The Ihelm I once knew had never been a particularly outstanding named mage. Sure, his raw talent surpassed Deculein’s, but compared to other powerful named figures, he had always fallen short. Yet now, the purity of his mana was beyond anything I had anticipated.

“Hmph. How curious. I once lived off whiskey, brandy, vodka, tequila—whatever I could find from the archipelago. Yet somehow, my magical insight is sharper than ever,” Ihelm continued, tilting his head slightly, his red eyes fixed on me. “Is this your handiwork as well, Deculein, esteemed Head Professor?”

"Naturally. It appears I possess a talent for awakening the magical potential in others."

“... Ha,” Ihelm said, letting out a dry laugh, but his face quickly twisted in fury. "Deculein, I still can’t figure out what’s going on in that twisted mind of yours. What exactly are you intending to do with Luna’s daughter?"

I remained silent.

"You didn’t expel her from the Mage Tower. Instead, you accepted her as an assistant when you had every opportunity to dismiss her."

I settled back into my chair in silence.

Ihelm, however, leaned forward, encroaching on my space as he continued, “I’ve given it much thought. If you were anything like Decalane, I might have understood your reasons for keeping her. But you are nothing like him.”

Just then, a voice rang in my mind, like a warning bell—Idnik’s voice.

"... I just assumed you might have killed her by now. Because Decalane was the one who discovered her first."

"Ha—!" Ihelm scoffed. "What’s the matter? Have you started to feel pity for her?"

I paid him no mind, allowing his words to drift past me. My thoughts shifted back to Decalane and the words he had left behind in his diary.

"... I am the artificial intelligence created by Master Decalane, tasked with evaluating the most suitable successor for the family."

Decalane, the former head of the Yukline family, had not been satisfied with either Yeriel or Deculein. In his eyes, both had failed. If that were true, perhaps Decalane had been searching for a new heir—someone other than Deculein or Yeriel, someone capable of carrying on the Yukline name in all its glory. Epherene may have been that candidate.

“Have you developed pity for Luna’s daughter? After all this time, did you finally begin to feel sorry for her? Watching that miserable girl day after day—did it make you want to play her father? Or perhaps,” Ihelm sneered, “you’ve been looking at her with other intentions, maybe even her body?”

I shot a glance at Ihelm, briefly entertaining the thought of crushing his face on the spot.

“... Hmph. It doesn’t matter what happens—the announcement of the new Chairman will likely come this week,” Ihelm said, his tone taking on a sharp edge. “At the formal hearing, I intend to reveal everything—our past, Luna’s daughter, and all the dealings between the Yukline family and Luna. I will expose it all.”

Ihelm continued to ramble, mentioning things I wasn’t even aware of. With a smirk, he added, “Let’s fall together, Deculein.”

He began to rise from his seat, but I activated Telekinesis. His hand, gripping the iron handle of the chair, was forcibly pressed back down.

“Let go,” Ihelm demanded, struggling against the force, but my Telekinesis was beyond the strength of an ordinary mage like him.

Clatter— Crash—!

Ihelm thrashed about, rattling his chair before finally sinking back into it.

“If you continue like this, Ihelm, you won’t live to see the hearing,” I warned.

“Pfft. Is that so?” Ihelm responded with a mocking smirk. “You may not realize it, but I’ve been dead ever since the day you took everything from me.”

“Then I’ll see to it that you die once more.”

“Go ahead, try,” Ihelm said as he stood.

Watching him stumble toward the door, still bound to the chair, amused me, so I released my Telekinesis. He shoved the chair aside, rubbing his wrist as he exited.

Bang—!

The door slammed shut, and silence settled over the office. Left alone, I began sorting through the thoughts swirling in my mind—Epherene, Luna, Yukline, Decalane, Ihelm. Their tangled pasts, like webs, stretched out in all directions.

As I reflected on these connections, I turned toward the window. My unfamiliar reflection stared back at me from the darkened glass. I noticed that I was frowning, an uncommon display of anger.

“The reason I took Epherene in,” I murmured, revisiting Ihelm’s question. The answer was clear, requiring no second thought.

... Now or in the distant future, she will always be my protégé.

***

Thud—!

Back in the assistant’s research lab, Epherene set the stack of documents down on her desk. A hundred pages—nothing too difficult. With calm resolve, she rolled up her sleeves and got ready to begin.

Ding—!

The alarm on her Wizard Board chimed. Startled, Epherene immediately turned her gaze to the screen. A quiet exclamation escaped her lips.

The post titled “Seeking Information on the Mage Tower’s History from 10 to 15 Years Ago” had been deleted.

Reason: Time limit exceeded.

Epherene had been investigating the history of Deculein and her father during their years together at the Mage Tower, 10 to 15 years ago. She had even offered a reward for anyone who could provide the information.

“One hundred elne might have been too little,” Epherene muttered.

Given that even basic lecture notes sold for over five hundred elne, one hundred was clearly insufficient. With trembling hands, she adjusted the price and rewrote the post.

Seeking information on the history of the Mage Tower from 10 to 15 years ago. Reward available.

: If you have knowledge or can connect me with someone who does, I will pay six hundred elne.

“Six hundred elne should do,” Epherene muttered. With that, she shifted her focus back to her studies. “Now... let’s see.”

She opened the first page. The introduction detailed the significance of inventing a new Pure Element and explored the potential for developing a new series of element magic based on the four-categories. After skimming through, she turned to the next page.

“Huh?”

The content didn’t flow. The first and second pages felt disconnected. From the second page onward, complex spells appeared abruptly, as if sections of the text had been omitted.

"Did the professor mix up the order?" Epherene thought, absentmindedly brushing her fingers over the first page. As she did, the page flipped on its own.

"... Ah."

It was only then that she realized these weren’t ordinary sheets of paper—they were cutting-edge magical paper. Each page held the equivalent of 300 pages of content. In other words, with 100 sheets, she now had...

“... 30,000 pages.”

She had roughly a month to complete her task, but there were 30,000 pages of material to sift through.

“Oh no...” Epherene muttered as a sudden tension gripped the back of her neck.

It was as if a hammer had struck her forehead, sending sharp pain through her skull. The world around her grew distant and overwhelming.

***

Meanwhile, deep within the underground chambers of the Intelligence Agency...

"... Hmm."

The room was packed with millions of sheets of paper, documents, taxidermied and preserved strange creatures, and illegal grimoires written by the Ashes. The Intelligence Agency's Record and Evidence Storage Room, known as the Purple Room for its violet wallpaper, housed countless artifacts. In the center, Primien sifted through information related to Cielia.

“Fuck.”

Investigating someone’s life had always been tedious, especially when it was impossible to trace an individual's exact path through their own account.

“Ah, fuck, this isn’t it either.”

A human life was shaped by the people around them. Humanity was defined through interactions and connections with others. Without these relationships, without the presence of others, one could no longer be truly considered human.

“Fucking hell.”

For this reason, Primien examined everyone connected to Cielia. Piecing together someone’s timeline was tedious work, a task she hadn’t dealt with since her early days at the agency.

“This is all because of that damn professor,” Primien muttered to herself. As she sifted through the evidence pile, she came across a piece of burnt letter. “And what is this letter?”

Though mumbled to herself, her question was answered by an agent in the uniform of the Intelligence Agency, who explained, “Ah, that? It’s officially called a Letter of Fortune, a type of chain letter.”

Primien glanced down and began reading its contents.

Anyone who read this letter would be cursed within three days. The curse could only be broken by passing the exact contents of the letter to at least three other people. If it was shared with more than five, the following day would bring great fortune...

“Fucking ridiculous.”

The agent responded, “The people who received that letter truly died from the curse. It ended up killing hundreds.”

“Ah,” Primien muttered, swiftly tossing the letter aside and brushing off her hands, as if to rid herself of the bad luck.

“That case was quietly buried by the Magical Realm. It happened over ten years ago, so you likely wouldn’t have heard of it, Deputy Director.”

“... Magic really is strange... and completely absurd.”

“That letter isn’t magic. It is a demon.”

“Demon? This scrap of paper?”

“Yes. There are demons that exist physically, others that manifest as phenomena, and some that are concepts. This letter belongs to the type that manifests as a phenomenon.”

Primien nodded at the agent’s explanation and said, “Hmm. I see you’ve learned well, having worked under that asshole—well, the professor.”

“Oh, don’t worry~ Even so, Professor Deculein will handle Sylvia without any trouble.”

"Primien, do you know something?"

“What do you mean?”

"We previously met in Berhert, didn’t we? We dined together at a restaurant there."

"The dish that day was steak with mushrooms."

“I’m only joking. As if I could remember... what we ate all those years ago.”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“I wasn’t aware you had an aversion to mushrooms.”

"The dish that day was steak with mushrooms."