A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Unexpected Wager (2)

Independent quests are typically tied to key individuals. While not every named character has one, those of real significance tend to have at least one quest. Yet, in all the scenarios I've experienced, I’ve never come across an independent quest for Sophien—the most pivotal figure in this world.

"If you win, I’ll grant you a wish," Sophien said.

I looked at Sophien. Her words held the force of a definitive declaration.

"Your Majesty, regardless of how it's presented, offering to grant a wish—"

"Hmph," Sophien scoffed at Kreto's attempt to dissuade her, lifting a finger with a sharp flick. "However."

That pale, slender finger pointed straight at me. It was clear she had taken my challenge to heart.

Sophien’s fingertip glowed faintly with a soft aura as she demanded, “And if you lose? What will you offer in return?”

I paused briefly, unsure if ten days of training would be enough to overcome her. The answer would only come once we faced off. But with this being Sophien’s independent quest, backing down simply wasn’t an option.

"I have nothing to offer you, Your Majesty," I responded.

"What?" Sophien said, her brow knitting in displeasure. "You speak with such arrogance, and now you think you can walk away without facing the consequences—"

"As a noble of the Empire, my loyalty has always been pledged to Your Majesty. Should Your Majesty wish to claim anything from me, I am ready to offer it without hesitation. My desire has always been, and will always be, to serve your will."

Sophien paused, her lips tightening as she leaned in, watching me closely, as if weighing my sincerity.

There wasn’t a hint of deceit in my words, not a trace of dishonesty. This was simply part of who I was. Deculein’s Elitism came from his unwavering belief in the hierarchy of bloodlines—while he looked down on those beneath him, he had only reverence and respect for those above.

To Deculein, no one deserved more respect than Sophien. His loyalty was steadfast, something he was designed to embody.

"... Enough," Sophien muttered, clicking her tongue as she leaned back in her chair. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she snapped open the lid of the Go container. "Let’s see your playing strength, Deculein. White or black? The choice is yours."

"I’ll take white, Your Majesty," I said, selecting the white stones.

Kreto’s curiosity deepened as he glanced back and forth between Sophien and me, eager to see how things would unfold.

"Very well," Sophien said as she placed the black stones in front of her, the quiet clatter of them filling the room. "Let the match begin."

Sophien placed the first stone on the board, marking the beginning of the match.

Tap—

Sophien placed her first stone at the star point in the lower-right corner, a strategic opening move.

Tap—

I placed my stone on the star point in the upper-left corner, and without hesitation, Sophien followed with her move, placing her stone at the small point in the lower-left.

"Hmph," Sophien scoffed as Kreto, notebook in hand, intently noted each move with focused attention.

Tap— Tap— Tap—

The Go stones landed softly, like raindrops tapping gently on the board. The early stages of the match unfolded without flourish, each move following the next in a quiet, steady rhythm...

***

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh—!”

Epherene and Sylvia dashed frantically, the ground trembling behind them with every heavy impact.

Boom—! Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!

A tiger. Its massive, muscular frame made the earth quake with every thunderous stride.

For the first time in her life, Epherene witnessed the sheer majesty and mana of a tiger. At last, she understood why the phrase "terror of tigers and disease" was so deeply ingrained in the continent’s lore—why the beast was so feared and why countless legends and tales revolved around it.

“Ahhhhhhh—!”

Epherene’s scream echoed through the air, her memories flashing before her eyes, her life rushing past like a comet streaking across a darkened sky. In the next instant, a sharp slap landed on her forehead.

“Quiet down, you fool.”

It was Sylvia. She had created a barrier behind them, likely in an attempt to stop the tiger. But with a single swipe of its paw, the beast tore through it as if it were nothing more than paper.

“Ahh—! That giant orange monster—!”

“Be quiet,” Sylvia said.

The barrier was nothing more than a distraction. As the debris scattered, it momentarily blinded the tiger. Seizing the opportunity, Sylvia erased the ground beneath its feet. The floor vanished in a heartbeat, like a swift stroke of an eraser, leaving the beast hovering in midair. The outcome was clear—the tiger would soon plummet into the void.

Grrrrrr—!

The tiger did not fall. Its paws pressed against the air as though it were solid ground, and with a powerful thrust from its hind legs, it ascended, soaring like a wave breaking free from the earth.

Boom—!

A shockwave erupted from its leap, the force rippling through the sky. When Epherene glanced back, her sanity wavered. The tiger wasn’t just running—it was tearing through the air itself, trampling the fabric of space as it charged forward.

“This way,” Sylvia said.

But Sylvia hadn’t made a mistake. She had never underestimated the tiger’s strength; she had been waiting for this very moment all along.

Boom—!

With precise timing, she erased the ground beneath them once more, just as the tiger’s claws narrowly missed grazing the top of her head.

Crash—! Crackle-crack-crack-crack—!

The tiger immediately crashed through the ceiling in pursuit, but Sylvia pressed forward without hesitation, clearing a path as they fled. She left behind scattered footprints, faint scents, and traces of mana in every direction, throwing the tiger off course.

Sylvia placed decoys and formed walls, shaping the surroundings into a labyrinth. However, she avoided setting traps that might provoke the tiger—fully aware that enraging such a creature would be a dangerous misstep.

“Huff. Huff...”

“Phew.”

They somehow escaped, both Epherene and Sylvia panting heavily, utterly drained after fifteen relentless minutes of chase.

"Wow, my heart’s pounding... Oh, right," Epherene panted, still catching her breath. Then her eyes fell on Sylvia's mangled fingers, torn and bloody. "Sylvia, your fingers..."

Sylvia silently waved her mana brush, and new fingers formed in place of the mangled ones, restoring her hand to its original state. She flexed them a few times, opening and closing her fist, then nodded in approval.

Epherene’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she asked, “Will they stay that way?”

“They’re part of me,” Sylvia replied. “The healing outpaces the mana use, so they’ll last permanently.”

"... I’m relieved to hear that."

Sylvia remained silent.

Noticing Sylvia’s silence, Epherene hesitated before asking, “Where are we... exactly?”

“The Voice,” Sylvia said.

“The Voice?”

“A world you enter through the medium of a voice,” Sylvia responded.

“Ah! Demons?!”

Rohakan had explained it to her before—a world inhabited by demons, one that random individuals could enter at any time, using the medium of a voice as their gateway to the world of demons.

Epherene asked once more, “And that tiger we just encountered—what about it?”

“It likely came through someone’s voice as well,” Sylvia replied.

“... I see.”

That explanation clicked. After all, a beast’s roar could be considered a voice, too.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Epherene said as a thought crossed her mind. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two coins, their metallic clink echoing softly. They were the ones Rohakan had given her earlier.

"Where did you get those?" Sylvia asked, her surprise uncharacteristically evident.

"Rohakan gave them to me. What are they for?"

"Those coins are the currency used in this world.”

“... Ah. I see. Here, one’s for you,” Epherene said, offering one of the coins to Sylvia, who took it without hesitation. “So, what do you use them for?”

“Follow me,” Sylvia said, slipping the coin into her pocket as she stood up, guiding Epherene down the corridor.

They walked under a sign labeled Non-Combat Zone, crossing paths with a few people as they continued onward.

No one paid them any attention, but Epherene whispered a warning, “Hey, watch out for the tiger... it’s still around...”

“Here,” Sylvia said.

They soon arrived at a bustling area, reminiscent of a busy marketplace or plaza. Sylvia wove her way through the crowd, leading Epherene until they stopped before a shop marked with the sign—Soul Shop.

"You can spend the coins in places like this," Sylvia said.

The store displayed an array of strange items, from Magic Elixirs and Potions of Maturity to Perfumes of Charm and even Voodoo Dolls.

... However, Sylvia's attention was locked on a single display—The Voice of the Dead.

Epherene shot a careful glance at Sylvia before quietly saying, “Hey.”

Sylvia turned toward her, face unreadable, and simply asked, “What?”

“About... your mother... Did Professor really—”

Did Deculein really kill your mother?

Epherene wanted to speak, but her voice failed her. Unable to form the words, she simply lowered her head.

“I don’t remember," Sylvia replied, her voice as cold and distant as ever.

“... Huh?”

“... Oh.”

“Ahem, my bad,” Epherene muttered, awkwardly clearing her throat before shutting her eyes for a brief second and...

“... Oh?”

"... Hmm."

Tap—

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"Hmm..."

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