A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 215

Chapter 215: Outing (1)

"You are exactly as I’ve heard, Professor," Logeff said, sitting across from me in an elegant restaurant in Macan. "Now, I understand why Her Majesty holds you in such high regard."

I sliced into the veal steak, and rich juices seeped onto the plate. A meal Epherene would have enjoyed.

"So, is the New Church finally stepping in?" Ihelm asked. “I thought the New Church would spend eternity tucked away in their quiet little cathedrals.”

"Eradicating heresy is the sacred duty of the cathedral," Logeff said with a quiet chuckle, sipping his wine, his eyes—ever thin—curved like those of a fox.

"But still, doesn’t the New Church reject God altogether?"

This continent was shaped by three major religions. When the Holy Era fell and God’s presence faded from the world, belief fractured into separate paths.

The New Church followed the doctrines and teachings of Idsilla, the human who had walked closest to God. The Old Church, upheld by the Scarletborn, worshiped the God of a bygone age. And the Altar, a heretical sect, sought to bring that forsaken God back.

Entangled in all three, the Scarletborn had long been at the heart of conflict, their eradication had long been a constant undercurrent in the continent’s history.

"Yes, that is correct. Sepern, chapter 3, verse 19, ‘The Lord declared that He was no god, but a man like us...’ That is why we uphold His teachings, not the worship of a god," Logeff said, slicing into a spear of asparagus with his knife.

Logeff was a vegetarian, refusing to take life; he abstained from alcohol, believing it tainted the clarity of a noble mind; and he lived in strict austerity, bound solely to the path of Idsilla.

Then Logeff added, "Of course, the distinction between the Lord and a god does not seem so great."

"Does the New Church acknowledge the existence of God?"

The question had not come from Ihelm or me—it was Primien of the Ministry of Public Safety. After Vahalla's fall, the officials of the Imperial Palace had gathered in Macan to handle the aftermath, and among them was Primien, the Deputy Director of Public Safety.

Logeff offered a pleasant smile before replying, “Oh, that is—”

"The first Archmage was a faithful servant of God," I said.

At that, the entire restaurant turned to me—Logeff, Ihelm, and Primien at my table, along with the surrounding high-ranking officials.

"If he placed his faith in God, then his followers could not so easily deny Him," I said, setting down my knife.

"Yes, that is correct. Ah, Professor, speaking with you is such a delight," Logeff said, neatly swallowing a bite of asparagus before continuing. "Indeed, as the Lord Himself was a believer, we follow in kind... though, in truth, that interpretation is still open to debate."

I regarded Logeff in silence.

"Whether the Lord believed in the existence of the Holy Era or if it was merely an embellishment by His devoted scribe, Rohan... The New Church now leans toward the latter—a rhetorical flourish, devised to guide those too blind to recognize the Lord’s power," Logeff said, setting down his knife and dabbing the corner of his lips with a napkin.

Then Logeff continued, “More importantly, there is no proof that the Holy Era ever existed—not a single remnant remains upon this continent. The notion that runic language was the language of the God is nothing more than a tale spun by later generations. And yet, the Lord’s presence endures, leaving behind undeniable marks of His existence."

Primien remained composed, glancing between Logeff and me, while Ihelm silently sipped his wine.

"Therefore, the New Church follows the teachings of a saint who once walked this land. The Scarletborn, in contrast, are branded as heretics—for they revere a god whose existence is uncertain, sowing discord across the continent," Logeff concluded.

"That makes sense," I replied with a nod.

Logeff offered a bright smile and began, "As expected of—"

"But why question a doctrine that has stood the test of time?"

For a brief moment, Logeff's face hardened.

"The Bible is, at its core, a historical record—a transcription of the first Archmage’s very teachings. Yet, you dismiss parts of it as mere embellishments by his scribe while accepting the rest as truth? The moment you cast doubt on even a single verse, its claim to infallibility shatters."

I tilted my head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at my lips, and added, "If you are to doubt, doubt it all. If you are to believe, then believe in its entirety."

"... A most fitting insight for a mage, Professor. To set aside faith and see only the facts—perhaps that is why the Lord is called the first Archmage," Logeff said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Idsilla—the one they called the Lord—bore the title of the First Archmage, a title officially recognized within the game itself.

"Indeed. Idsilla is the very foundation of the continent’s Magical Realm. I respect him not as a figure of faith, but as a scholar—one whose magic I seek to understand, and whose teachings I do not accept without question," I said, glancing at my watch and noting that it was almost eight in the afternoon.

Then I added, "And through that questioning, I may have uncovered the very answers the New Church seeks in its own scriptures, the Bible."

"... Very answers the New Church seeks, you say, Professor?" Logeff asked, a faint crease forming between his brows.

The primary duty of the New Church—the heart of the cathedral—was the analysis of scripture and doctrine. Even now, numerous passages remained shrouded in ambiguity, their meanings lost to time.

"For instance, the interpretation of Sepern, chapter 8, verse 11—‘A lamb, lost upon the path, donning the guise of a wolf.’ Or the meaning behind the final proverb that Idsilla left before departing from the Mortal Realm."

The Bible held many unanswered questions, yet I knew most of them—some through the knowledge of the game, others revealed through Comprehension.

"... Is that so?" Logeff said, forcing a smile.

But as the conversation continued, his forced smile quickly faded.

"To me, Idsilla's final proverb felt more like a map."

The map was evidence pointing to the location of the Holy Relic—an integral piece of the main quest. By now, the cathedral had likely reached the same conclusion through its research. However, such knowledge would have been confined to only a handful of individuals, kept in the strictest secrecy.

“... Hmm. That is very interesting, Professor. And what else?" Logeff asked without revealing any emotion.

Tick—

Right on cue, my watch struck 8 p.m.

"The time has come, so I will take my leave. Since it is merely the speculation of a non-believer, you may disregard it," I said as I rose from my seat.

"No, Professor. It was a thought-provoking theory, one worth considering."

Logeff nodded with a smile, but I caught the fleeting emotions hidden beneath his expression—nervousness, anxiety, surprise, and doubt. For all his composure, he was an honest priest in his own way.

***

As night fell, Primien stepped out of Macan’s restaurant, only to be immediately surrounded by the Minister of Public Safety and a group of government officials.

"Deputy Director, Deputy Director Primien. What’s the status?" asked the Director of the Minister of Public Safety.

"There was nothing of note to report," Primien replied.

"Phew, well, that’s a relief. Wow, seriously—I almost thought you’d lost your damn mind," said the Director of the Ministry of Public Safety, wiping the sweat from his bald head. "I mean, how did you have the nerve to sit right next to the professor like it was nothing?"

As the high-ranking officials gathered in Macan and stepped into the restaurant together, Primien was the first to approach Deculein. The government officials from the Ministry of Public Safety were visibly taken aback, yet, to everyone’s surprise, Deculein made no move to stop her.

The Director of the Ministry of Public Safety let out a sigh and then added, "Either way, that rash stunt you had the nerve to pull off ended up giving the Ministry a boost."

"When would you like us to proceed with the task?" Primien asked.

"All we have to do is transport the prisoners. It’s not like we’re drowning in work."

The reason they gathered in Macan was to manage the aftermath of Vahalla’s complete annihilation, with their main task being the transfer and inspection of prisoners.

Then the Director of the Ministry of Public Safety added, "Anyway, it is all good. I’ve still got no clue how you managed to get on the professor’s good side with that damn personality of yours, but—"

“Attention, government officials!” declared Delic, the Elite Knight bearing three stars on his chest. “We will now commence a brief blood sample collection.”

“Blood sample collection?”

“Indeed. Just a single drop will do as this is a newly developed magic that will streamline the reissuance of identification should an official ever misplace theirs."

Most of the government officials nodded in agreement, but not Primien—she knew the true purpose behind this blood collection. It was a means of distinguishing a human from a Scarletborn. Anticipating this, she had come prepared, a concealed blood pouch tucked within her robes.

“However, the blood sample collection will be handled by the Elite Guard. From inserting the needle to sealing the sample, every step will be carried out under our strict supervision."

Primien toyed with the blood pouch tucked inside her coat, her tongue clicking in quiet contemplation.

"Now, we will commence the blood sample collection."

As the Elite Guards moved from one government official to the next, closing in like predators on their prey, Primien remained still, lost in thought—what could only be described as a moment of life-or-death peril.

“Hmm.”

... Well, it’s rare to summon every department's managers and directors for post-operation procedures. Unheard of, even. But there was no way around it. I never imagined they would conduct a search of the entire organization so quickly—from the very first operation in Vahalla, Primien thought.

"Deputy Director Primien, your finger, if you will," the Elite Guard said, approaching with a needle in hand.

Primien gave a slight nod and extended her finger.

"I will proceed with the blood collection now."

As the needle inched closer to her skin, Primien’s heart pounded against her ribs. A single drop of her blood, combined with the classified documents Deculein had leaked to her, meant the Scarletborn screening would take no more than five minutes.

Would that be enough time to escape? No—the Elite Guards are not to be taken lightly. Delic is here, and no doubt, several Intelligence Agency agents are among them as well

“There is...”

Just as she was about to accept that there was no way out...

“Deputy Director Primien.”

Someone called her name, and the needle, ready to pierce her skin, froze in place. At the sound of that voice, the Elite Guard immediately let it drop, straightened, snapped to attention, and raised his hand in salute.

“Sir!” said the Elite Guard.

"Are you occupied?" Deculein asked, his eyes moving between Primien and the Elite Guard, his uniform pristine and commanding like that of a seasoned officer.

"Not at all, sir! It is of no concern!"

Using the knight’s response as cover, Primien moved, pretending to pick up the fallen needle while discreetly puncturing the blood pouch concealed in her inner pocket, smearing its contents onto both the needle and her fingertip.

“... Take this,” Primien said, extending her bloodstained fingertip and the needle without hesitation.

"Oh, yes, Deputy Director!" the knight responded, securing the drop of blood—without having the time to question whether it was Primien’s. "My task here is complete! Please, continue your conversation, Professor!"

"Very well," Deculein replied.

As the knight departed, Primien looked up at Deculein, and he, in turn, looked down at her.

Gulp—

"What brings you here?" Primien asked, forcing down a breath.

"Ready a horse. I have business to attend to alone," Deculein commanded.

It was a simple request—just to have a horse prepared.

"Where could you possibly be heading at this hour?"

“Hmm.”

Thud, thud—

"Oh... so this is what a university is like... Hmm?" Sophien muttered.

"Hmm? What are you talking about, Ephie?" Julia replied.

"... Oh, never mind. It’s Deculein—we both know that won’t work."