A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: One Step (3) Part 1

— That’s Deculein. You’re watching him too.

Concealed in the highlands, not far from Vahalla, Ellie scratched her head as she watched Elesol’s sign language flow like silent whispers carried by the wind.

"... Yes, I see him. Perhaps he is not in the best of moods today—"

Slap—!

Elesol slapped Ellie's arm.

“Ouch, that hurt...” Ellie muttered, wincing with a slight pout.

— Just because someone is not in the best of moods, does that justify them going around and blowing people to pieces as they please?

"... That’s not what I meant," Ellie muttered, lowering her eyes to the land stretching far below.

Even to the Scarletborn, Vahalla was a troublesome city. Its inhabitants were all heretics who worshipped the Altar, making them a thorn in their side. That was why Ellie and Elesol had been dispatched—to remove them from the equation.

— This isn't the first time Deculein has shown such cruelty.

Beneath the desert sands, Elesol constructed a prison for the Scarletborn, a place meant to hold the heretics of the Altar away from the rest of the world.

"But there are no gas chambers in Roharlak. If anything, that proves the Professor has kept his word," Ellie replied.

— ... That’s enough. You’re no different from those who have been brainwashed by the Altar. Let’s go back—there’s no need to stay here since we have their leader in custody.

Elesol finished signing, and Ellie turned toward the unconscious leader of Vahalla, bound to a tree.

“Okay. But...”

Elesol and Ellie planned to backtrack the Altar using the knowledge buried in the leader’s mind. In the end, Scarletborn faced only two choices—either choosing the mutually assured destruction that Elesol insisted on or the collapse of the Altar, as Ellie proposed.

"Elesol, let’s wait a little longer and see," Ellie added.

— Why?

“... Just because,” Ellie murmured, her eyes following Deculein as he walked away, his movements as fluid as a passing breeze. Then, Ellie let out a quiet chuckle and murmured, “I just want to watch a little longer... ouch.”

Slap—!

This time, Elesol slapped Ellie on the head.

Slap—! Slap—! Slap—!

Not just once, but repeatedly, like tapping on a hollow gourd.

"Ow, ow—ouch, and also—there are still a few more children we need to take with us over there," Ellie said, stumbling over her words.

— Take them with us?

Elesol narrowed her eyes and asked once more.

“... Yes.”

— Which ones?

“Just as I said. Innocent children,” Ellie murmured with a quiet sigh, her eyes sinking to the ground beneath her.

***

Vahalla’s resistance was underwhelming—no, it was simply no match for the overwhelming force of the Elite Guard. The battle priests mentioned in the reports turned out to be half-trained at best, and aside from them, there was nothing but a congregation of Altar worshippers, little different from frightened civilians.

"Professor, what should we do with them?" asked a knight with a single star gleaming on his chest, his eyes settled on the thousands of unarmed Scarletborn prisoners awaiting my judgment.

Every last battle priest outside of these prisoners had been slain, but unlike before, their bodies did not explode—no, it failed this time. Applying Telekinesis to the human body meant seizing control of the very blood flowing through another’s veins.

Therefore, making the bodies of battle priests explode—those who had trained in mana and mastered magic resistance—was not only difficult but also distasteful, a crude method and an affront to dignity itself.

“... Deculein?” Ihelm said.

I swept my eyes over the prisoners, and there were men and women, adults and the elderly—all sharing the same look of fear. Yet, something about their composition felt unnatural and unbalanced.

“How strange,” I said.

“What is?”

I lifted my head and took in the village of Vahalla. It barely resembled a place meant for living—scattered among the dust were small buildings, such as houses, a temple, shops, and a school.

“There aren’t any—”

"There aren’t any children!"

Just then, a voice cut through the air, interrupting my words. Everyone turned to look, and there he was—a man with thin, nearly closed eyes, walking toward us. Dressed in the dignified robes of a priest, his black hair was slicked back, revealing an unusually distinct face.

“... Tch.”

The name of that named character came to me in an instant, and I couldn’t help but click my tongue. Even without knowledge of the game's scenario, he was a figure well-known in this world.

"Men, women, adults, and the elderly—everyone is here. And yet, not a single child in sight!"

The man's name was Logeff, the youngest son of the Mest family—the maternal relatives of the late Emperor. On the day his sister, the last Empress, was assassinated, he turned to religion.

Even as a Yukline myself, I could not overlook this named character in his own right. With his family's influence binding him to Sophien and his own rank nearing that of a cardinal, he was not someone to be taken lightly.

"Is that not so?" Logeff added, his thin eyes curling into a sly smile, like that of a fox.

Ihelm and I watched Logeff in silence. With his hands clasped behind his back, he walked forward, his eyes sweeping over the faces of the prisoners.

"Are you all afraid, perhaps?"

The prisoners held their silence, but in their eyes, a faint flicker of hope remained. Perhaps it was the sight of Logeff’s priestly robes. A shared faith, however distant, might mean mercy. They hoped that perhaps he would spare them from the hands of those who wielded steel and sorcery without restraint. A frail hope—naive and fleeting, destined to wither.

"Even as you tremble, you still hide the children away. Such devotion... indeed, it is touching," Logeff concluded.

"Ah, so there are children," Logeff said, not letting the moment slip past him, and with a bright smile, he turned toward me. "Shall we have them brought forward?"

Then Logeff added, "Oh, and do you mean to take all these prisoners with you, Professor? Would it not be simpler to kill them here and bury them altogether?"

"Ghk!" murmured the prisoner, letting out a choked gasp before collapsing and clutching his throat as he gurgled and writhed, finally falling still.

"Oh, yes. That is correct," one of the knights replied.

I took a brief glance at Logeff before lowering myself onto one knee and pressing a hand against the earth. The heightened senses of my advanced Iron Man attribute granted me to detect the faint tremors of those trembling below. With that awareness, I sent a pulse of mana deep into the ground.

Ruuuuuuumble—!