A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 141

Chapter 141: Training Program (1)

Sophien, the ruler of the Empire, closely examined the Imperial Speech laid out before her. The grand hall was completely still, and she carefully read through each line. It was a stark change from the past when she would quickly lose interest and set the speech aside after only a brief look.

The unexpected change unsettled the ministers, especially Romelock and Cruhan, who led the two main political factions. They exchanged tense glances, clearly disturbed by the sudden shift. Sophien had always been indifferent to matters of governance, leaving the ministers to uphold a façade of balanced rule, though genuine leadership was often absent.

Finally, Sophien declared, "I'm changing the opening line of this speech."

"... Ahem, y-you mean the opening line of the speech, Your Majesty?" one minister responded cautiously, startled by her abrupt decision. The Empress's dismissal of her ministers' input and her willingness to alter the speech on a whim revealed a hint of tyranny.

"That's right," Sophien confirmed.

"Your Majesty, there is nothing wrong with the speech. The opening line was meticulously prepared by both Lord Cruhan and myself," said Romelock, a senior minister in his sixties.

Cruhan nodded in agreement, signaling their temporary alliance, and said, "Indeed, Your Majesty. This is an important speech, prepared with the approval of all the ministers—"

"No," Sophien interrupted, gesturing toward the first line. "We don’t need to list all eight nations on the continent one by one."

The speech opened with a list of the continent's eight nations, beginning with Leoc and concluding with the Principality of Yuren.

"I'll simplify it to just the eight nations."

Though it might appear to be a simple formality, the order of the names held considerable diplomatic weight. For these nations, which one the Empress mentioned first in a public address was a matter of great importance.

"Your Majesty, this cannot be. We urge you to reconsider. The order of the nations represents the historical and diplomatic framework established by the late Emperor," the ministers implored, their voices resonating through the hall.

Sophien pressed a finger to her temple and shook her head, then stated, "Enough. I refuse to be chained to the past. The first line will be changed, and that is final."

The ministers raised objections again, but Sophien swiftly cut them off.

"Enough!" Sophien shouted, standing up. Her commanding presence made the ministers avert their eyes. "My decision is final. The morning session is dismissed."

Without waiting for further protests, Sophien left the hall and made her way back to her chambers. As she walked away, the belated cries of the ministers echoed down the corridor, but she didn’t give a shit.

"... Damn parasites," Sophien muttered as she reached the privacy of her chambers, hurling the speech onto the floor. "I wonder how much dirty bribe money was spent to polish this, or how many favors were pulled to put these lines together."

Nearly every nation on the continent, whether large or small, sent gifts to the Empire—essentially a form of tribute. The real issue was that over seventy percent of these offerings ended up in the ministers' hands, a result of the late Emperor Crebaim's soft-handed approach.

"From this moment on, all of it is mine."

The speech aimed to send a clear message to the continent's nations—bribing the ministers was no longer enough, and their focus should now turn to the imperial household.

Although Sophien was dissatisfied with other parts of the speech, she knew it would be unwise to provoke the ministers too much. They weren’t entirely foolish and could easily find ways to interfere with her plans. Right now, it was better to give them fewer reasons to plot against her. For the time being, it suited her to play the part of a reckless and overbearing ruler.

"Politics... such a tedious game."

Sophien lay sprawled on her bed, the weight of ennui settling over her once more. She stared up at the ceiling, letting her thoughts drift away from politics and return to her own life. Her memories spanned more than a century, marked by countless cycles of death and regress.

In the past, Deculein had risked his life to stay by her side. But lately, Sophien found the emotions he kept hidden to be a growing weight. The sincerity he always professed felt increasingly unsettling.

"... Could he have,"

Sophien couldn’t comprehend why Deculein had refused to rescue Yulie from ruin. It defied logic, leaving her with nothing but a tangle of emotions.

"Actually left his woman because of..."

Human emotions had always been beyond her reach, a kind of madness she could never quite understand. Deculein, in particular, was masterful at masking his true feelings, which only made it more difficult for her.

"Hmm..."

From the edge of her bed, Sophien looked over at the snow globe, watching the tiny flakes swirl inside.

"Keiron, you wouldn’t understand," Sophien murmured. He had spent his life alone, untouched by a woman's companionship. "I just hope that man doesn’t end up being a bother..."

Sophien looked over at the mirror across the room, taking in her reflection. Her beauty was undeniable, celebrated by all throughout the continent.

"Tut."

Even her own reflection seemed to mock her, becoming yet another bother. With a click of her tongue, Sophien reached for a piece of Message Paper connected to Yulie, the knight who had once been her instructor knight.

“I don’t know how things will turn out, but...”

Sophien couldn’t help but feel sorry for Yulie, who in some ways reminded her of Keiron. She also felt a strange pang of guilt, as if she had taken something that rightfully belonged to the knight. Once the current unrest was over, she intended to bring Yulie back to the Imperial Palace.

In the unforgiving Northern Region, where tens of thousands of beasts poured southward each year, lay the Margrave’s domain, a place that had carved the belief in the strength of the people of the Northern Region into the very fabric of the continent.

Within this harsh territory was the hallowed ground of the knights—the plaza of the famed Freyden Knights' Order. It was here that Yulie stood.

“... Knights of winter.”

The main headquarters of the Freyden Knights' Order was home to three hundred knights, but with those stationed across the territory, their numbers grew many times over. Each knight took fierce pride in their allegiance and heritage, and because of this, the looks they cast at Yulie were anything but friendly.

The knights kept sending her disapproving looks as she stood at the back of the line. Though she was a direct descendant of Freyden, she had committed a disgraceful act that no knight, regardless of status, could overlook.

“The southern advance will begin soon,” Zeit declared from the podium in the plaza, intentionally disregarding Yulie. She met his indifference with calm acceptance, as if it were only to be expected.

“When the waves of beasts reach our borders, Her Majesty has promised Freyden of the support it needs. I will station knights at each key location to create an unbreakable line of defense.”

The commanders and Zeit had identified thirteen key locations, and the knights of Freyden could volunteer for any one of them.

“Step forward one by one and announce your decision,” Zeit commanded.

The knight in the front row was the first to step forward, giving Zeit the traditional salute of the Northern Region before announcing his decision to the gathered knights in the plaza.

"I, Griffin, shall prove my courage and determination on the walls of Lohelle," Griffin announced.

None of the locations could be considered easy—all were places where death was likely.

“Griffin, Blood of the Mighty Warriors!”

Therefore, as each knight declared their choice, the others shouted their encouragement, rallying behind their comrades.

“I, Victor, shall stand guard over the villagers at Domon Fortress.”

“Victor, the Knight of the One-handed Sword of Belloris!”

Each knight of Freyden held at least one revered title. While the tradition was often seen as outdated and even ridiculed in the capital, it remained a valued practice that continued to ignite a sense of pride and purpose among the knights here.

“I, Bommas, accept the challenge of the harsh land of Dokunkan!”

“Bommas, the Giant of Gerun!”

The knights made their choices one after another, but one post remained abandoned. Of the eleven remaining strongholds, it was by far the least desirable. It wasn’t passed over because it was too daunting or dangerous; rather, it was intentionally left for the most disgraced knight, offered as a chance for redemption.

Therefore, when Yulia stepped onto the podium, everyone’s attention shifted to her. The earlier roar of the crowd had dwindled, giving way to a thick silence that seemed to weigh on the air.

Without hesitation, Yulie declared, ““I shall take Rekordak.”

Rekordak—a prison for the most dangerous criminals, and a last line of defense against the advancing beasts. With more than eighty percent of its inmates dying within a year, it was nothing less than a living hell. Even so, Yulie stepped forward, determined to face it head-on.

“Understood,” Zeit replied with a firm nod. The knights did not offer any cheers, but the intensity in their stares had eased somewhat. “Knight Deya has announced her decision to take Rekordak.”

Zeit did not bother to call her by name, but Yulie was not the kind of knight to be troubled by such a small disregard.

“Yes,” Yulie said.

As Yulie stepped down from the podium, she met the knights' stares. Their expressions showed a range of emotions—resentment, disdain, disappointment, sorrow, anger, and even betrayal. She took it all in without faltering. After everything that man had put her through, this felt like nothing more than a passing ordeal.

“After one month of training, you will depart for your assigned posts. Until then, dedicate yourselves to honing your skills,” Zeit commanded, his tone carrying weight without needing to be raised.

“Yes, sir!” the knights of Freyden answered in unison, their voices resonating with the strength and reverence owed to a king.

***

The Imperial University was now in the midst of midterms, but since I didn’t assign any exams in my classes, my responsibilities as a professor were mostly limited to reviewing my research assistants' thesis papers.

"Hey, how come your car's so much nicer than mine? We have the same brand," Ihelm muttered from the passenger seat as we headed back to the Yukline mansion.

I quietly took out a book—Blue Eyes, a bestselling novel Sophien had given me.

Snow blanketed the capital in thick, silent drifts, though the season had only just begun...

“What purpose does this serve?”

As I started reading, Ihelm kept playing with his seatbelt, pulling it in and out with a soft click each time. I had personally overseen the seatbelt's design; after all, safety features were still a new concept in this world. Besides, there weren’t enough cars around for accidents to be a common concern.

Click. Stretch— Click. Stretch—

“Is this some sort of enchanted device?” Ihelm asked, his constant tugging on the seatbelt and letting it snap back beginning to grate on my nerves.

I put the book down and said, “Why can’t you just shut your mouth?”

Ihelm shrugged and said, “You could at least explain what it’s for.”

With a touch of Telekinesis, I secured his seatbelt in place.

Ihelm let out a choking sound and said, “Ah, I see. It’s a restraint, meant for transporting prisoners, isn’t it?”

I didn’t bother giving him an answer.

“Hmm. It feels a bit loose. Shouldn’t there be a more refined magical approach to it?”

I didn’t see any reason to correct him. If he wanted to imagine himself a prisoner for catching a ride uninvited, that was fine by me.

“Hmm? Look, isn’t that Leaf over there?” Ihelm said, pointing out toward the window.

Up ahead, Epherene waddled like a penguin with a backpack, a few boxes floating behind her like obedient pets. It was a curious display of Telekinesis.

Ihelm gave a chuckle as he rolled down the window and called out, “Hey!”

“Ah!” Epherene exclaimed, jumping back in surprise like a startled cat. “What do you want?!”

“What’s wrong with you... Oh, professor?” Epherene said. She had been scowling at Ihelm but then noticed me and tilted her head curiously. “Are you two traveling together?”

“Hmm? Oh, that program? I thought it was still being reviewed.”

“Oh, really? Perfect scores, you say?”

Ihelm smirked and went on, “But there’s just one condition—explain why you didn’t save Yulie—aaah!”

"Hmm...? ... Ah, hahahaha," Rogerio chuckled, her posture shifting into a laid-back arrogance as she folded her arms and crossed her legs. "Umm, but ya know, I been wicked hahd up for time lately—"

Soon, her smile turned into a cold smirk as she asked, "Haha. That’s s’posed to be a threat, or what?"

"Awright, awright! Ya ain't gotta go pullin' these cheap stunts!" Rogerio said. _{freewebnøvel.coɱ}