A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143: Words in a Letter (1)

I ascended to the top of the lighthouse, taking in the view of the lake below. Snow fell gently, covering the vibrant green below with a pristine layer of white, transforming the scenery into something almost magical.

Primien, who had followed closely behind, commented, "If your thoughts are correct, then this is certainly remarkable."

The idea was simple—somehow, the book seemed to be exerting some kind of influence over reality itself.

"Is such a thing even possible?"

"It isn’t out of the question," I replied.

It seemed absurd that a single book could hold such power. Yet, if enough people had read it, the story itself might transform into an origin—a kind of source that could manifest through magic, almost like a miracle.

"So, the mage called Demian in the story would actually be you, Professor Deculein. It appears that you’ve become the main character. Congratulations."

The real issue, though, was how the book ended.

... She gave herself to him completely, then pierced his heart with the sword.

It was the last line of volume one, a subtle hint of what was to come.

"Discovering who she is in the novel would hold the key," Primien remarked.

The book’s main character was known only as she, her true name left unspoken, just like the identity of the mage she struck down.

"Primien, have you ever taken a moment to question the remarkable popularity of this book?" I asked.

"Could you clarify what you mean by that?" Primien asked.

"Even the Empress, though beset by ennui, read it through to the very end."

The book spanned roughly one hundred and fifty pages, and while it was undeniably well-crafted, even from the perspective of my Aesthetic Sense, its rapid rise to bestseller status was unusual. There had to be something else behind its success...

"I can sense something off about it—there's mana in the text, especially in the way the sentences seem to flow."

The Empress was right to have given me this book. The text carried a mana-laden enchantment that mesmerized its readers.

"I have never encountered a phenomenon quite like this before," I said.

The story itself held mana, drawing readers irresistibly toward it. As more people read, the tale gained a tangible power that began to reshape reality, creating a cycle of ever-growing influence.

"Is it possible that this is the work of a demon?" Primien asked.

"No. If that were true, my veins would have responded."

It wasn’t the work of a demon, but the source and purpose behind it remained a mystery.

"It will be fascinating to witness how this develops."

"Enough with the speculation. Remain here and keep watch over the lake," I commanded.

"Yes, Professor."

At that moment, a boat appeared on the far side of the lake, and I noticed Primien starting to read from the book.

"... Demian stood beside the lighthouse, eyes locked on the lake as a boat carrying two mages glided closer," Primien murmured.

From the boat, two figures stepped off the boat—Epherene and Drent.

"Two mages stepped off the boat, and one of the foolish pair stumbled clumsily as they made their way forward."

“Ah!” Epherene cried out as she stumbled and fell flat on the lakeshore.

"Ugh... pfft!" Epherene sputtered, spitting out the gritty sand as she struggled to her feet.

"They appear to be part of the story as well," Primien remarked. "It’s possible that one of them will meet their fate with a sword through the heart."

"Drent is not the one," I declared.

"On what basis do you say that?"

"He does not hold the status of a named."

"... Are you saying he lacks the distinction to be considered a main character?"

"That is more or less correct."

If this was an unexpected event, the target was likely one of the named characters. The most likely candidates were the mentors present—myself included—or Epherene.

"Do you think it necessary to inform everyone of this?" Primien inquired.

I shook my head and said, "That won't be necessary."

"On what grounds?"

"Simply a story from a novel will not determine my actions. I will deal with this on my own," I stated.

"... You appear rather confident. Are you aware of where she might be?"

"She is here," I said, tapping the cover of the book.

Although I still didn’t know her identity, the timeline suggested that she had recently crash-landed on the island.

"What is your destination?" Primien asked.

"To her."

"Hmm, if a sword does end up piercing your heart, do let me know."

"Will do," I said.

As I stepped outside the lighthouse, I unfurled my Wood Steel in every direction.

***

... Sylvia crash-landed on the island near the lake, her body soaked in sweat and her mana completely depleted. She had flown thousands of kilometers, all the way from the Nameless Island of the Floating Island to Yukline's territory. Weary from the journey, she stumbled over to a nearby boulder and collapsed onto it.

“... Achoo!”

A shuddering sneeze escaped her as she took stock of her condition. Mana exhaustion had clearly set in, and it would take time for her drained reserves to recover. Yet her stamina was not entirely spent. Years of rigorous training had granted Sylvia physical strength nearly on par with an average knight—an impressive feat for a mage.

“It’s getting chilly,” Sylvia murmured.

As her sweat dried, a chill settled into her bones, and snow began to drift down. Using the last remnants of her mana, she created a small flame, basking in its warmth as she waited for her strength to return. Half a day should be enough. Once she recovered, she would set out for Deculein, ready to face whatever awaited her.

But then...

Whoooooooosh—!

A sudden gust of wind, carrying snow, surged through and extinguished the campfire. Sylvia stiffened in alarm.

“Ah.”

Before she could say a word of frustration, a blizzard swept over her, quickly covering the ground in snow. She struggled to move, but with each step, the drifts grew deeper—rising from her ankles to her knees, and then to her waist...

At last, she was swallowed up, a figure lost in the white. She closed her eyes as the biting cold, strangely soothing, settled over her. It felt like a dream, the warmth of exhaustion spreading through her limbs. She had pushed herself too far. Just a moment of rest... a brief pause, and then she would keep moving...

Crunch, crunch—

The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder as the figure moved effortlessly through the deep snow. Reaching her side, he leaned down and lifted the half-buried blonde mage into his arms.

Huuuuum...

A faint hum vibrated through the air. With a fluid motion, he invoked Ductility, molding the snow and earth around them into a snug shelter within the frozen landscape.

***

... Fifteen minutes earlier, snow had started to fall over the lake, with thick flakes swirling softly to the ground.

"Wow..."

Epherene, who had slipped into the lakeshore just moments earlier, quickly forgot about it as she wandered, captivated by the sight. Though it was unmistakably summer, with the lake reflecting the season’s warmth, snow continued to fall, transforming the landscape into a world entirely unlike itself.

"Miss Epherene, this is where you will be staying," the attendant informed her.

"... Pardon?"

The attendant halted, prompting Epherene and Drent to pause in confusion.

"But there’s... nothing here?" Epherene said, looking at the spot the attendant had indicated. It was just an empty stretch in the snowy forest, with no trace of a building or shelter.

"Yes, Miss Epherene, this will be your accommodations. Mister Drent, if you would kindly follow me.

"Um, okay... if you say so," Drent replied, casting a puzzled glance at Epherene before following the attendant.

Now alone, Epherene used Ductility to craft a chair and sat down to take in the view. But the snowfall soon grew heavier, shifting from serene to troublesome.

"Ugh, pfft."

"Ugh, this isn’t going to work," Epherene muttered.

Using Ductility, she formed a small earthen hut. It was rough and unrefined compared to the professor’s creations, but it would do well enough.

"Hmm, let’s see..."

— Ah, ah.

"Oh, I see. So we’re supposed to make use of nature," Epherene mused, a faint smile crossing her lips.

Whoooosh—!

"Whoa, blehhh!"

"Ahh!"

As she took in the room, she noticed someone sitting in a chair beside the bed, absorbed in a book titled Blue Eyes. Sylvia's attention drifted blankly to the cover.