A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 198

Chapter 198: Edge of Winter (1)

The Altar withdrew from the wall with nothing to show for their failed assault, yet strangely, they remained composed. Arlos, staying within the sanctuary, found it odd—no, the very nature of this place was a mystery in itself.

"This place seems to be divided into several different facilities, is it?" Arlos asked as she walked down the dim corridor alongside a low-ranking priest she had recently become somewhat familiar with.

"Accommodations, schools, dining halls, and training grounds for battle priests—we have spent decades of our lives within this sanctuary," the priest replied, briefly glancing at Arlos.

“In this darkness?”

"Yes. But soon, that will no longer be necessary. When God returns, He will cast judgment upon the godslayers of this continent and lead us into a new, untainted world—one where He shall walk among us once more."

Their beliefs were nothing short of fanatical, and their perspective on history and worldview were starkly different from those of the continent.

“Godslay?”

"Yes. In the distant past, the people of this continent slew God and built their nations upon that sin. Such a crime can never be forgiven."

To them, the people of the continent—more precisely, their ancestors—had slain God, staining their bloodline with an unforgivable sin. Every descendant was marked as a godslayer by birth.

In contrast, the Altar regarded itself as the last true faith, the only religion sanctioned by the divine, devoted to the resurrection of their fallen god. And when their god rose once more, they believed he would bring judgment upon the continent.

"Is there another plan now that the wall still stands?"

The Altar’s plan was to send their vanguard to break through the wall, then, just as the southern advance of the demonic beasts descended, seal off every escape route, ensuring the destruction of Rekordak.

However, Deculein had backed his confidence with overwhelming force, turning the battle into a farce. The vanguard, meant to break the wall, was forced into a humiliating retreat within ten minutes of their charge.

The priest remained silent, far more guarded than the lowest ranked members of the cult.

Creeeak—

“This will be your workshop. Step inside,” the priest said, pushing open a door along the corridor.

Arlos scanned the room, and from the finest mana stones to chisels, needles, thread, awls, and saws—every tool needed for crafting puppets was neatly arranged inside.

"Everything seems to be in order."

"Of course it is. But before that," the priest said, gathering demonic energy in his palm.

Zziiiing—

Then, he raised his hand and conducted an inspection, scanning Arlos from head to toe.

“... I don’t see any mana stones or devices on you. Go ahead and enter."

Arlos gave a slight nod and stepped inside the workshop, grabbing a tiny electronic device hidden in her pocket.

"Will the crafting proceed without issue?" the priest asked.

"I should be able to craft a few fine puppets."

"Good. That is what I expected. Good luck with that, troglodyte. Your cooperation will be rewarded with survival in the days to come."

“... Survival?”

"Yes. I'll take my leave now. The elder will bring down the detailed sheets soon."

Creeeak—

As the door shut behind the priest leaving the workshop, Arlos pressed the buttons of her device at intervals, transmitting a message in Morse code.

Tap, tap, tap—

Here, as every word spoken and every action taken would be under the Altar's surveillance, she chose to rely on another method he had created for transmitting a coded message.

***

Arlos’s coded message reached me, but it held nothing of value—only confirmations of what I already knew.

"... I suppose I’ll have to wait for her to dig deeper," I muttered, turning my eyes forward.

Before me loomed the wall—battered by continuous waves of demonic beasts. Its right flank, in particular, was barely holding together, its structure weakened by the constant pounding. It wouldn’t last much longer...

I pressed my hand against the wall and closed my eyes, reaching out with Comprehension to connect with it. My talent lay in fire and earth—elements that, when fused, gave birth to steel. Anything tied to metal was within my reach, allowing my abilities to extend to an exceptional level.

“Sigh...”

Of course, I had still to perfect Metal Enhancement, but this Comprehension was a necessary foundation for its completion. Even if I mastered the technique, a lack of mana could still render it useless.

"... I’ve won!"

At the sudden sound of a voice, I turned and found Yulie and Raphel standing there.

"I've finally won!" Yulie exclaimed, bursting with excitement and triumph after the spar.

I didn’t see the match myself, but if she managed to defeat Raphel, it means she must have improved quite a bit. She used to lose every time, I thought.

“Finally! Finally!”

"... Is your victory that sweet?" I murmured to myself with a slight chuckle.

With her victorious cheers fading behind me, I turned my attention back to my Comprehension of the wall. Once finished, I ascended to the top.

[Comprehension: 53%]

Having spent more than half my mana on Comprehension, the understanding I gained was at a level of satisfaction.

"Boss, you're here," Louina said with a smile, standing watch in my place.

I gave a slight nod and took a seat.

The day was nearing its end.

***

“... It’s been pretty quiet lately,” Epherene mumbled between bites as she ate atop the wall.

There wasn't much of a menu to speak of—just a few chunks of meat and a single bowl of porridge on the tray.

“Chew, chew— Chew, chew—”

Even Epherene, a known foodie, struggled with the meal, chewing it like gum, as if she had been working on the same piece of meat for minutes.

"A storm is approaching. Brace yourselves," I said.

The reason for such peace had a simple explanation—the lesser demonic beasts had already fled, their will broken by the oppressive force of the advancing horde.

"I see," replied Deputy Director Primien, hugging a portable heater to herself as she remained in Rekordak.

“... Hup! Haaah!”

At that moment, a spirited shout rang out from beneath the wall, drawing my eyes downward.

Clang— Clang, cling—!

Sirio and Yulie crossed blades in a duel, sparks bursting with each clash. Yulie’s movements, slipping effortlessly between the strikes, had never been more fluid.

Boom—!

Yulie’s sword hammered down with crushing force, the strike landing with the weighty impact of a mace.

“Oh!”

“Oh? Yulie, you’ve improved a lot! What was that move just now?” Sirio exclaimed, his eyes wide as he stepped back after managing to block the sudden strike.

Yulie said nothing and adjusted her grip on her sword.

“What was that?” Sirio asked again, grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s a variation of my swordsmanship. You may have relied on my old patterns until now, but they won’t work anymore,” Yulie replied.

“Whoa...”

Yulie had clearly advanced in her swordsmanship—undoubtedly the result of my guidance. The other knights seemed to think the same, and the proof stood beside me—Raphel and Gwen, standing nearby, pretending not to be interested.

"So, Yulie defeated the both of you," I said.

At my words, Raphel and Gwen flinched, their shoulders tensing. They stirred uncomfortably for a moment before both cleared their throats at the same time.

"Ahem. I wouldn’t say we lost... more like a brief miscalculation. Right, Raphel? Yulie’s swordplay just got a little messy all of a sudden," Gwen said.

“That is correct,” Raphel said.

Without a word, I flipped to another page of The History of the Imperial Palace. It might have seemed like I was reading simply for the sake of it, but this book, imbued with magic, contained a staggering five hundred thousand pages within its bindings.

It contained the days when the Empire was a mere kingdom, and before that, a collection of tribes—it held the very essence of history, a book among books.

“... Mind giving us an analysis as well?” Gwen finally asked, cutting to the chase.

I tilted my head slightly upward.

“... Well, we had it all wrong. Seems like your feedback actually makes a difference. I guess you do have an eye for it...”

"That is true," Raphel added, backing Gwen’s words.

"I will take it into consideration," I replied.

"Consideration? Why?" Gwen asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"That, too, will be decided based on your performance this time. Survive first—and take down as many as you can," I answered.

Raphel and Gwen seemed to accept the reasoning, at least to some extent.

Whoooosh—

As a cool breeze rolled through, Raphel made his way down from the wall, while Gwen approached Drent, who was sketching a magic circle onto parchment. I lifted my eyes from the book and took a moment to take in the sight of Rekordak.

The villagers who had taken up the task of woodcutting hauled carts of freshly hewn logs from the forest, while mages with categories in Ductility melded wood and steel, shaping them into arrows.

"And here, some snacks for y’all. Must be gettin’ hungry—go on and have some while ya work. Heheheh."

Boom—!

Boom—!

Boom—!

Boom—!

Whhhoooom...

Booooom—!

Booooooooom—!

“... Ah.”

Boom—!

Boom—!

If we die fighting here, at least our families will live. But if we run, even if we survive, they’ll be slaughtered. ... No, Deculein would hunt us down and kill us just the same, Delic thought.