A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 202

Chapter 202: Return (1)

Deep in the underground archives, where the records of the Rekordak concentration camp lay buried, Primien sat alone in the darkness. Dust gathered on the worn chair beneath her as she quietly turned each brittle page, reading them one by one.

... 339 individuals classified as specially monitored. A portion of them were requisitioned for labor by Count Iggyris of the Freyden family.

Freyden was the land where Primien was born, where she lost her parents, and where hopelessness became her only companion. A land of bitter winters and biting cold, where crumbling log cabins stood in ruin, and hunger stretched on for days.

Primien remembered melting snow just to have something to swallow, licking scraps from the frozen ground—those miserable days that seemed to never end.

The list included names such as Roafrun, Bainsmore, and Geckrel...

Primien knew the crimes of every name on that list. Roafrun was a maniac who had butchered thirteen people and sold their flesh, Bainsmore was a guard who had beaten a noble to death for attempting to violate his sister, and Geckrel was an apothecary who had poisoned a river, erasing an entire village from existence.

Ten days later, only two of the thirteen laborers returned. Count Iggyris stated that the remaining eleven had died during the course of their labor.

Primien reached for the document.

Shhhiing—

With a touch of her mana, Primien created an exact replica of the record from the archive, and she could already sense it—Scarletborn’s oppression would soon escalate, spreading like wildfire. As always, in the wake of great catastrophe, retribution would follow, sparing not a single one of them.

History had always repeated itself, and this time, the Scarletborn would be its next inevitable target. That was why she and her people needed this proof. With that in mind, Primien placed the replicated record into a drawer and planned to secure the original in her backpack.

Click—!

At that moment, the lights in the underground archive flickered to life. Though Primien’s heart gave a sudden lurch, she masked her reaction.

Instead, Primien turned toward the source of the sound and said, “Professor.”

Deculein braced himself against his staff with one hand while resting the other behind his back. Though his posture remained composed, the remnants of his injuries were undeniable.

"What business do you have in a place like this?" Deculein inquired.

"I am the Deputy Director of the Ministry of Public Safety. Investigating criminals is—"

Whoosh—

With a flicker of Telekinesis, Deculein seized the record from her hand.

“It’s nothing of importance,” Primien said, letting out a quiet sigh as she briefly closed her eyes.

Deculein flipped through the pages of the record; however, Primien remained unconcerned, as a single record alone would reveal nothing of significance.

"Primien," Deculein called, addressing her by her surname—a reflection of her status as an honorary noble. _{fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓}

“Yes, Professor,” Primien replied, nodding.

Then, as if he were calling back a stray dog or sending a child on an errand, Deculein inquired, "Are you investigating the one who attempted to poison Her Majesty?"

Deculein’s words struck Primien like a blade to the heart, freezing her in place. Though her face betrayed nothing, her body stiffened like a mannequin, and for a brief moment, she even forgot to breathe.

"It is the Ministry of Public Safety’s duty and mandate," Primien answered, her face betraying nothing.

"And why search for that information here in Rekordak?"

"I am investigating any criminals who may have ties to the poisoning. Even the slightest lead is worth following."

Deculein gave a slight nod and asked, "Do you suspect Iggyris to be the one behind the Empress’s poisoning?"

Once again, Deculein had cut straight to the heart of the matter. Primien met his eyes, her own settling on the deep blue of his.

Did those clear eyes just see straight through my mind? Primien thought.

As the possibility that he could read her mind felt all too real, there was no point in dwelling on it. Pushing the thought aside, Primien emptied her mind and ran her tongue over her dry lips.

"Do you believe revealing that to Her Majesty will secure you wealth, honor, or even a future free of fear?" Deculein inquired.

Or perhaps Deculein had known everything from the very beginning. With intellect so perceptive to predict the course of the southern advance, unraveling the threads of mere humans and their schemes would have been nothing to him.

"... Yes. I seek wealth and honor for myself—not the empty title of an honorary noble, but a rightful place among the true aristocracy."

The only way for her people to reclaim peace and regain Sophien’s favor was to expose the one behind the poison that had haunted her past and seek her forgiveness. But in doing so, Freyden risked facing destruction.

"Take it," Deculein said, extending the record to Primien. "And listen."

Primien tucked the record into her backpack and looked up at Deculein.

"Decalane was also behind the poisoning," Deculein added.

Primien froze, the record partially slipping into her bag, while the rest remained in her hand.

"Iggyris may have merely followed orders, while Yukline could have been behind it all," Deculein said. "Do you believe you can comprehend the full scope of this conspiracy on your own?"

At those words, Primien furrowed her brow, and in that moment, the pieces fell into place.

"I know it’s a lie. You’re trying to protect Freyden, Professor," Primien said.

Deculein looked down at her in silence, and Primien held his eyes as she slipped the record into her bag.

Then Primien added, "Freyden was behind the poisoning, and they must face the punishment they deserve."

"Iggyris is long dead," Deculein said.

“Yes, however—”

"And it was Yukline who took his life."

Primien remained silent.

"No, it was more of a political assassination—Iliade, Beorad, Rewind, Jabes... all the noble houses played a part in it."

Primien’s eyes widened.

"Will you still go through with it? Can you bear the weight of what follows?" Deculein asked, his lips twisting—half a warning, half a threat.

Primien bit her lip, let out a quiet sigh, and reached into her bag for the record.

Sizzle—!

Fire bloomed in Primien’s palm, and without a moment’s hesitation, she fed the record into the flames. The pages darkened, shriveling before they crumbled to ash.

"I heard nothing today," Primien said in passing as she walked past Deculein.

***

At the break of dawn, I stepped into the courtyard of Rekordak, my eyes passing over the fallen knights. Beside me stood Primien, and just five minutes ago, she had approached me as if for the first time that day, offering a polite greeting and casually asking about my injuries, as if nothing had passed between us.

"You certainly have thick skin," I said.

"I’m not sure what you mean," Primien replied.

In the end, they had all died because of me. Yet, I felt neither guilt nor sorrow. Death was a certainty in war, and knights—those sworn to protect—had merely met their fate. To fall in the line of duty, upholding their oaths, was the highest honor they could ever claim.

At that moment...

"Oh, Professor! Are you alright?" Delic asked as he hurried over, his steps light with urgency as he scanned me, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "What a relief. I was—I mean, we were all deeply concerned. Hahaha."

After being severely scolded a few times, Delic had grown oddly obedient, almost like a trained puppy. It was unsettling to see a man in his mid-thirties behaving this way.

"Casualties?" I asked.

"The confirmed casualties stand at one hundred seventy-three, but we have only recovered one hundred fifty bodies—just under ninety percent," Delic reported.

One hundred seventy-three seasoned knights possessed the strength and value of over a thousand soldiers. If their sacrifice had brought down one hundred seventy thousand demonic beasts and stemmed the southern advance, then it was a victory of great pride.

“... Inform the families of the fallen and pay them a visit with the respect they deserve. Their honor will be remembered across the continent for generations.”

The least I could offer the fallen was to make certain their families spent the rest of their lives with dignity, carrying their pride and securing a future of wealth and prosperity for them. It was justice—both an honor granted and a debt repaid.

"I swear upon the name of Yukline."

"Yes, sir!" Delic and the imperial knights saluted, some with tears welling in their eyes.

"Once the southern advance is completely contained, attend to the retrieval of the remaining fallen," I added.

“Yes, Professor!”

After issuing my command, I turned and made my way through the courtyard of Rekordak. In the corner of the grounds stood the infirmary—a renovated wing of the old hall, its windows casting a faint glow against the dimness. Somewhere beyond them, Yulie lay inside, likely hovering between life and death.

“It’s okay!”

Then, a sudden, bright voice broke through the silence, pulling my attention as I turned toward it.

Sumac of the Misty River was a medicinal herb known to purify demonic energy from the body. It was no miracle cure that could break Yulie’s curse, but it was still a rare and precious remedy—one potent enough to heal acute demonic energy poisoning.

"Hmm. Appreciate it. I’ll make good use of this," Primien said, appearing out of nowhere and snatching the item without hesitation.

... Had she been following me this whole time? I thought.

“Oh, w-what the?!” Ria muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

There's no doubt—this character is indeed a perfect reflection of her, I thought.

"Oh! Me too! I wanna go see too!" Ria said, hurrying after Primien.