A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Bachelor of the Mage Tower (3)

In the lost flow of time, within a faint and shadowy space, a metallic gleam flickered in the darkness.

“Professor!” Yulie said, running toward Deculein, her body covered in wounds, but she didn’t hesitate for a second. He leaned against the wall, standing firm as always, refusing to collapse or lie down. "Your wounds are severe!"

Blood surged from his wounds. Yulie’s instincts as a knight kicked in. She moved quickly, assessing his injuries and controlling the bleeding, applying the first aid she had mastered over twenty years of training.

“You’re remarkably composed, Yulie,” Deculein said.

“Don’t try to speak,” Yulie said, her heart pounding in her chest, though there was no time for emotion. She carefully inspected his wounds and prepared to use her mana to heal him.

At that moment...

Grip—!

Deculein grasped her hand firmly. Yulie looked up at him in confusion. He gave a faint smile and said, “... It’s fine.”

“No! You are certainly not fine!”

“If I’m not fine...” Deculein said, placing his hand on her cheek, making her flinch. “... Then, am I dying slowly?”

Yulie examined his injuries closely. His abdomen, pelvis, and other vital areas had all been pierced. She clenched her teeth and said, “... You are dying.”

The tremble in her voice stirred Deculein’s distant memory, pulling him back to when he had been Kim Woo-Jin. Long ago, he had seen her on a screen as she delivered the final blow. As he lay dying, his last words came out in a faint whisper, cursing her under his breath, “Damn you...”

“Even Iron Man dies, it seems... Yulie, I have witnessed my own death before.”

“Stop, please stop talking!” Yulie said, desperate to silence him.

The more he spoke, the more blood flowed from his wounds, yet Deculein persisted, saying, “How strange... That future should have benefited you most of all.”

“Professor, please...”

“I know, Yulie. This must not be the end.”

If he died here, Yulie would never reclaim her true self. Deculein’s death, if it were to happen, had to come by her own hand.

“For your sake, and for mine,” he continued, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking with unwavering clarity. “If you overcome the one you fear most, we will meet again.”

“... Professor.”

"Remember. If you overcome the one you fear most, we will surely meet again."

“What do you mean by—”

Deculein’s words stopped. He closed his eyes and drifted into silence.

“Professor! Professor—!”

He had never once wavered or faltered, but in a single moment, he was gone.

***

Having returned to the present, Yulie glanced between Sophien and Deculein.

“Yulie. Unless you’ve completely lost your mind,” Sophien said, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers against her upper arm, “are you telling me you’ve regressed?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It was exactly one week from today,” Yulie replied, nodding firmly.

Her ability to assess, process, and understand the situation had been remarkably swift. Perhaps the memories were too vivid to be dismissed as merely a dream.

“How interesting. Now, tell me what led to Deculein’s death.”

“There were reports of a demon appearing in the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace,” Yulie said, turning her head briefly to cough. “Cough, cough—! So, the professor and I went to the palace together...”

Blood had seeped from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away, acting as if nothing had happened, and continued speaking.

“Professor professor tasked me with guarding the entrance to the underground chamber. You entered alone—”

“And I met my death inside?” I cut in.

“... Yes,” Yulie said, her voice trembling as if each word carried unbearable weight. Sweat had already begun to bead on her forehead. “Also...”

Suddenly, Yulie groaned, her mind clouded, and she briefly shook her head as if trying to clear it. She gripped the edge of the desk, her voice strained.

"At the time, Your Majesty... you were asleep. The vassals tried, but they could not rouse you."

“... Is that so?” Sophien replied, her brow furrowing as she listened closely to Yulie’s words.

I stood in silence, reflecting on her words.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Cough—!” Yulie replied as her body was wracked by another violent cough, this time sending blood spilling from her lips. The crimson splatter stained the snow beneath her, and with a heavy thud, she collapsed. She had lost consciousness.

I knelt beside her and lifted her into my arms.

“What’s going on?” Sophien demanded, her voice sharp.

I felt the intense heat radiating from Yulie’s body, closed my eyes, and applied Comprehension to fully grasp the extent of her injuries.

“... Her injuries are severe. These are the aftereffects of the regression. Yulie is dying slowly,” I explained.

Regression was the process of returning from the future to the past. As a result, it caused a massive surge of mana throughout the body, usually once, though sometimes more.

If the body was strong, its circuits would adapt quickly; however, Yulie’s body and mana circuits weren’t built that way—partly due to the curse clinging to her heart. She had endured an entire week after regressing, paying the price to save my future self.

“Deculein, you look strange right now,” Sophien remarked with a small, amused laugh. “It’s a face I’ve never seen before. Do you truly love her that deeply?”

I checked Yulie’s pulse and felt for any sign of awareness. She was barely clinging to consciousness.

“... No.”

Therefore, my words would linger in her fading memory.

“I’ve never loved her that much. She’s just someone I’d prefer to keep around. But lately, her constant illnesses have been nothing but trouble.”

Sophien’s lips had twisted into a cynical smirk as she watched me. Soon, the imperial physicians arrived. They carried Yulie away on a stretcher, and I stood there, watching her fade into the distance.

Sophien spoke again, “Deculein.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I quickly master everything—truly everything. When we first met, reading your emotions was difficult, but even that has become easy now.”

“Is that so?”

“But Deculein, you’re lying to me,” Sophien said sternly. I didn’t deny it. “I’m deeply disappointed. Right now, I’d love nothing more than to cut off your head.”

“... I apologize, Your Majesty. However, I doubt I love Yulie as much as you expect.”

Just as I had completed Yulie, she had completed me. It was a story I could never hope to change.

“In truth, I love her far more than you realize.”

It wasn’t that I couldn’t act on this feeling—it was that I refused to. The stubbornness that defined Deculein had always wanted Yulie.

“... Hmph. Whatever,” Sophien scoffed, seeming to grasp my true meaning. But then, she suddenly slumped against the desk. “Ah... I’m so tired... and drowsy again. I was going to scold you more... maybe even learn some more runic language...”

Her words trailed off, slowing until they faded into silence. I glanced at Keiron, who faced me and gave a nod.

The doors to the underground chamber had opened again.

***

[Seventh Cycle]

I stepped into the past, into the underground chamber. As the door opened, I was greeted by the sight of the Imperial Palace garden.

The spring lake shimmered, its surface reflecting Sophien, who sat in a wheelchair. I wanted to approach her, but it seemed I was already too late. She had lost both her sight and hearing. These were the final moments of her life. I couldn’t let her know I was there. I couldn’t tell her that I had broken my promise.

“Your Highness—!”

Her vassals had gathered around her, calling out through their tears. I moved toward her, the grass rustling beneath my feet as dirt scattered.

With her dying breath, Sophien asked in a faint voice, “Is there anyone... by my side?”

Her ears had already gone deaf; she couldn’t hear the answer to her question.

“Yes, I am here by your side.”

The moment I had given her my answer...

“... I wish there were.”

The moment those words left her lips, the world began to shift.

Ruuuumble—!

A tremor shook the heavens and the earth. Soon, the entire space collapsed and inverted, resetting itself once again. The process of regression had rapidly begun.

[... Thirteenth Cycle]

The Imperial Palace had been rebuilt once again. In the thirteenth cycle, Sophien had committed suicide, hanging herself before the agony of her illness could worsen. And once again, the world shifted. _{ƒreewebɳovel.com}

[... Sixteenth Cycle]

In the sixteenth cycle, Sophien had died after receiving a folk remedy from a cult that came from the archipelago.

[... Twenty-first Cycle]

In the twenty-first cycle, Sophien, worn down by the endless regressions, cried relentlessly before slamming her forehead into a rock and dying.

[... Twenty-ninth Cycle]

Why this Demon’s Mirror holds onto discarded worlds, why it fixates on Sophien’s death, and why it exists as a medium in the form of a mirror.

I want to be like that world. I want people to live in my world, to see days unfold within it. I want to become reality, not just a world confined within a mirror...

A wry smile appeared on Keiron’s face as he uttered, "Ha."