A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 184

Chapter 184: Southern Advance of the Demonic Beasts (1)

"Snore... snore... snore..."

As Epherene quickly fell into a deep sleep, I planted Dream Link in her mind. Though the spell was complex and did not align with my natural talent, the connection established through the Wood Steel ensured its completion.

Whoooosh...

As the whisper of the wind faded, signaling the completion of the magical connection, my eyes fell on Epherene’s peaceful sleeping face. Though she often stumbled through her actions and was completely unaware of her own abilities, there was quite a charm when she kept her mouth shut—an emotion I must have felt through the lens of Kim Woo-Jin.

“... What a fool,” I muttered, reopening my book.

Recently, I had immersed myself in the study of all things related to knights—swordsmanship, martial techniques, training methods, and breathing techniques, to name but a few. By that time, I dared to believe I knew more, and with greater precision, than most knights ever would.

Rustle... Rustle...

Turning the pages of my book, I waited for Epherene to fall into her dreams. If Decalane had appeared again, the Dream Link would have alerted me.

Rustle... Rustle...

Before I knew it, I had finished an entire book. Without pause, I reached for the next—a book on Masterful Fencing techniques—and opened it.

At that moment...

“Umm... Professor...”

At the sound of a sudden voice, I pulled myself away from the pages of my book.

"You know, I told you that I met Decalane in my dream, right...?"

Epherene, who had been asleep, was now awake, her sparkling eyes locked on me. Closing my book, I waited to hear what she might say next.

“But, you know... it’s just... that jerk—no, I mean, Professor, your father—”

“You may choose to address him in those terms, that jerk," I interrupted.

To both Deculein and Kim Woo-Jin, Decalane had been a man undeserving of the title of father. After all, Deculein himself had once raised his sword to bring about his end.

"... Yes, Professor. Do you know what that jerk said to me?"

Epherene narrowed her eyes, hiding her emotions as a bead of sweat formed on her brow and her chest thudded with each racing beat.

"That jerk said my dad hated me, you know! Just as much as he hated you, Professor, he hated me too," Epherene said. “That doesn’t make sense, right?”

I looked at her in quiet stillness, offering no words in response.

Truth be told, Kagan Luna despised his own child, Epherene, so much so that he gave her a name that meant Falling. I could not say I understood the reason—no, perhaps I did, in some vague way. Through the quiet clarity of my Comprehension, the unknown threads of truth slowly came together, like scattered pieces of a puzzle forming an image I hadn’t expected to see.

"Quiet yourself and rest now," I said.

Epherene had no mother, nor had she ever seen her. Perhaps her mother had passed away bringing her into this world, or maybe there had been another story buried in the shadows. Whatever the cause, it was clear that Kagan’s despise for Epherene had stemmed from that.

However...

"Dawn has arrived."

I didn’t want to say such words to her. Soon, Epherene’s face fell, her eyes dropping to the floor as she tightly clutched the blanket in her small hands.

“... Yes, Professor,” Epherene said, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Again, she closed her eyes.

Whoooosh—

At that moment, the wind howled, its cry laden with an ominous echo that hung in the air.

“So, you’ve come,” I said.

As if in response, the world flipped upside down, and in an instant, the Voice swallowed me whole.

~

A dark and hollow space stretched, still as if submerged beneath the ocean’s depths. In the center of it all there was a lone child—young Epherene.

“Wahh, wahh, wahh.”

As I looked at Epherene, crying and unable to walk, it struck me—that the Voice was trying to reveal a glimpse of her past.

“... Kagan, Epherene is your daughter.”

A voice came from an unseen place, and I turned toward it.

“Hmph.”

Kagan Luna stood with his mother, Epherene’s grandmother, by his side.

“Also, the daughter of that bitch,” Kagan said, glaring daggers as he watched his child crawl on the floor. “I can’t stand to look at that face or that damn ashen gray hair.”

Misunderstanding his glance, the child laughed brightly, stretching out her small hands toward her father, as if pleading to be held, as though she were born to be loved.

Kagan clenched his fists, his face contorted with anger as he growled, "Do whatever you want with her—kill her or let her live. I won’t raise a child like that."

***

... Did my dad really hate me? Epherene thought blankly, the doubt creeping into her mind like mist and slowly spreading.

I know it’s not true. I keep telling myself it isn’t, but... why did he hate me? What did I do wrong? Were his smiles, his letters, and those words filled with care and love... were they all lies?

If my dad really hated me, why didn’t Deculein ever tell me? Did he think I wouldn’t believe him? Well, maybe he was right. I wouldn’t have believed it. I probably would’ve just exploded at him, blinded by anger. ... But what if that’s not it?

Epherene recalled something Deculein had once said, a memory that stayed with her as she reflected on what had brought her back to magic. It was after her father’s death that she decided to become a mage, her determination fueled by a singular purpose—to take revenge on Deculein.

... Could it be that Dad placed the weight of his revenge against Deculein on me? Did he place on me what he couldn’t finish himself? And Deculein... did he know all of this and still take me in? Why? Why would he?

“Epherene.”

At that moment, Epherene opened her eyes, her body drenched in cold sweat.

“Oh...” Epherene murmured.

Deculein was sitting in his chair, and outside the window, the faint glow of the early morning sun signaled the start of a new day.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Deculein asked.

Epherene stared at him in silence, still lost in her thoughts, before shaking her head and replying, "No... it wasn’t a nightmare... I was just lost in thought for a moment... Have you been here the entire time, Professor...?"

“The link magic can only be maintained when the distance is close.”

“Oh...”

"Your condition appears to be rather serious. From now on, you will sleep where I can keep an eye on you."

“Oh, yes, Prof... Wait, no! What?!” Epherene exclaimed, sitting up suddenly in bed.

At that moment, Epherene flinched, her clothes soaked in sweat and sticking to her, slightly transparent under the light.

“Oh my!” Epherene cried out, quickly crossing her arms over her chest to cover herself.

Deculein looked at Epherene in disbelief.

“W-w-where are you looking at?!”

“... Before I end you.”

“W-what?!”

Thwack—!

Deculein flicked Epherene’s forehead, sending a searing pain through her head that rang in her skull.

“Ahh!”

“Get up.”

“Ahh! Ahhhhh!”

"There is much work for us to do together starting today," Deculein said, then left the room.

“... Ah. Ahhh...” Epherene muttered, rubbing her swollen forehead as she followed behind him. “Oh, by the way, Professor. What happened with the Voice? I slept fine.”

"Are you claiming that you slept well after sweating like that?" Deculein said.

“But it wasn’t a nightmare,” Epherene replied.

“I went to the Voice alone.”

"... Oh? Why? Didn't you say we were going to go together?"

“The Voice showed your past, but you cannot step into a past of your own.”

Epherene tilted her head, confused by his words, but her face quickly flushed red as she grabbed Deculein’s suit and exclaimed, "Ahh! What?! How much did you see? W-why were you snooping around in my past?"

“Silence.”

“How much did you see? Tell me, how much—?!”

Deculein paid the brute no mind, brushing her off without hesitation.

***

Rekordak, now home to the mountain villagers, felt almost like a city. Each morning, the inviting aroma of cooked rice filled the air, blending with cheerful conversation and bursts of laughter that seemed to spill from every corner. The guards, the villagers, and even the prisoners carried smiles, but all of them were destined to die the moment the walls gave way.

“Have all the automatic crossbows been installed?” I asked, patrolling the walls early in the morning.

The path atop the wall was shrouded in biting cold, but the guards, wrapped in freshly issued padded coats, seemed ready to endure it.

“Yes, Professor! A total of five hundred crossbows have been installed along the walls. Furthermore, with the villagers collecting firewood and ore on a daily basis, we should encounter no difficulties in restocking our arrow supply," the guard reported with enthusiasm.

“Oh my, was there a mine here as well?” asked Louina, the new secretary.

"I didn't know that," added Epherene, the second secretary, who seemed to be wondering as she stood beside her.

“Haha, we also didn't know about it, but the villagers knew surprisingly well. Thanks to them, we were able to find out,” the guard replied.

“Oh~”

Epherene and Louina nodded in quiet acknowledgment of the guard’s words.

"Hup! Hup!"

“... Hmm?” Sirio muttered.

“Hah..."

"Hah... Hah..."

"Hup!"

"Ugh... Hah."

Whoooosh—

Isn’t it before the scheduled sparring time? Yulie thought.

Yulie blinked and asked, "Why are you all of a sudden... sniff, sniff."

“Huh?” Sirio stammered, visibly caught off guard, as lying was not his strong suit, and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

“Umm, well...” Sirio mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he pulled out a piece of paper.

"Yeah. Oh, but it’s not just you—Deculein’s been giving feedback on the swordsmanship of the other knights too. Isn’t that interesting? Deculein is an expert of theory—"

Snatch!

Yulie’s swordsmanship exhibits an exceptionally crude habit—an inelegant and disappointing flaw. It bears little distinction from the tireless and inept persistence of a brute.

To begin, Yulie has a clear tendency to telegraph her movements, even before swinging her sword, thereby exposing her intended path. With focused observation, one could predict every trajectory with precision, as if her actions were an open book.

Furthermore, she exhibits the absurd tendency of accommodating her opponent’s weaknesses—an illogical and frankly unbecoming habit. Pretending to be in pain in her presence is sure to produce highly entertaining results.