A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 216

Chapter 216: Outing (2)

I stepped into Rohakan’s vineyard, forcing my way through the tangled, overlapping worldlines with sheer mental strength. Without the Endurance I had acquired before, I wouldn’t have lasted long.

"You’re here," Rohakan said.

Deep in the vineyard, I came across a cabin. The sky above was as blue as a midsummer afternoon, the sun pouring its golden heat over the wooden porch. Rohakan sat there, bathed in the warmth, waving as I approached.

"Come, have a seat."

Rohakan looked older than when I killed him—no longer a boy, but an adult.

"Hmm... You’ve changed quite a bit, I see."

I stepped toward him.

"This will do. You are finally worth teaching," Rohakan concluded.

And so, the lesson began. Rohakan wasted no time on introductions or unnecessary words.

"Care to take a look?" Rohakan said, tracing a spell into the air.

A simple yet elegant magic circle took shape in the air, its design all too familiar to me.

"So, this is your Telekinesis, is it?"

Rohakan took one look at my Iron Man body and immediately understood the Telekinesis engraved within it.

“Yes, that is correct,” I replied.

"What a perilous undertaking... Engraving an entire magic spell onto your own body. Tell me, did it not hurt?"

"It was nothing more than pain."

"Correct. You engraved a magic spell into your own body, exponentially amplifying its function, output, and efficiency. An ordinary mage—no, even a seasoned knight—wouldn’t dare attempt such a method," Rohakan said, letting out a quiet chuckle.

It was a method only Deculein could accomplish in this world—one that would have been impossible without the Iron Man attribute and his unshakable mental strength.

"Each time you cast a spell, the circuit must overheat. That very heat could reduce your blood to cinders... And yet, the fact that you still draw breath proves it is stable enough," Rohakan added, reshaping the Telekinesis suspended in the air.

The spell and magic circle rippled, their shapes warping into an ambiguous haze. Dozens of strange circuits branched outward, twisting together in intricate patterns, sketching an unknowable geometry in the air.

I looked upon it through the lens of Comprehension.

"How does it look?" Rohakan asked.

"... Inefficient," I replied.

"Is that so?"

It was inefficient. Modern magic followed three fundamental principles: minimal, optimal, and advanced. Minimal—magic circuits must be as short as possible. Optimal—mana consumption must be kept to a minimum. Advanced—balancing both while achieving maximum output.

"It abandons all three fundamental principles—nothing more than a clumsy and inelegant imitation," I said.

"Hahaha... Perhaps so, for the ordinary mage. No, they would not understand. Sometimes, the most inefficient magic holds the greatest depth," Rohakan replied.

"Is that so?"

"Correct. This spell is neither scientific nor mathematical, nor is it efficient. It is, in the purest sense, magical. You, who measure only with reason, may find it difficult to comprehend."

I looked at the spell again, but no matter how closely I examined it, it remained nothing more than a disjointed tangle of meaningless strokes.

"With this, your Telekinesis may no longer move just objects—but the phenomenon itself," Rohakan added.

“Phenomenon,” I replied.

"Correct. Take, for example, the ability to command the very particles floating through the air—or to manipulate energy itself, even bending gravity to your will."

I nodded. The thought of using Telekinesis to control particles or gravity was both profound and enthralling.

"But that is the work of the unrefined," Rohakan continued.

I turned my head and met his eyes.

"Deculein, the essence of Telekinesis is, at its core, the concept of control itself."

It was true. By definition, Telekinesis was the art of exerting control over an object without physical contact.

"But focus on the concept itself. When you seek to control 'something,' can you ever be certain of the limits of what that 'something' may be?" Rohakan concluded with a smile.

I narrowed my eyes slightly and said, "You’re not referring to some sentimental nonsense about controlling the heart or human emotions—"

"Hahaha... Even magic cannot move the human heart. But tell me, have you ever considered this? That with your Telekinesis, you could command all that is dynamic and all that is static? For example, that you might bring this entire world to a halt? That you might wield the power to govern concepts themselves?"

"That is impossible," I said, shaking my head.

"Do you really believe magic is bound by limits? The moment you shackle yourself to convention, the moment your thoughts turn rigid, your growth withers. Break free—learn to let go," Rohakan replied, clicking his tongue.

Splash—

A bucket of water poured over my head, drenching my hair, and the wet strands stuck to my forehead, brushing against my brows as they fell.

"Hahahahaha! Yes, that’s it. Break free—learn to let go."

I remained silent.

"Hahaha... Ahem. Anyway," Rohakan continued, clearing his throat. "This is your first lesson. Return, and at the very least, make an effort to understand the spell I have given you."

I rose to my feet, the spell Rohakan had shown already engraved in my mind.

"Then, I will take my leave," I said.

"... Well. Oh, one more thing—beware the Voice. The assimilation seems to be stirring."

“I understand,” I replied, nodding.

It was no surprise, as the progression of the main quest, the Voice, still remained within my expectations...

As I walked the path beyond the vineyard, I turned Rohakan’s words over in my mind. The only lesson he left me was this strange spell—excessively inefficient and complex—and inscribing it into my body would take no less than half a year.

"However, it merits consideration," I muttered.

The fact that this wisdom and knowledge came from Rohakan himself made it more than enough.

“Deculein! Take this!”

Before I could even turn around, an ancient wooden staff cut through the air, and I caught it with one hand.

"I have no use for it anymore," Rohakan added.

Its name was the World Tree Staff of Murkan, a treasure beyond measure—one of the most powerful artifacts in this world.

I looked at Rohakan in silence.

“Take it with you.”

I held the World Tree Staff in one hand; in the other, my own.

"I understand. I will deliver it, though I cannot say if it will be accepted," I replied, nodding as I finally understood Rohakan’s intent.

This legendary staff was never meant for me. Such artifacts chose their wielders by talent, and more importantly, this one bore a strict condition—only those with Mana Quality Grade 2 or higher could command it.

At the very least, one would need Adrienne’s level of gift, but Rohakan would never give his staff to her. That left only one other possibility—Sophien.

"... Well. But do not say it came from me—call it loot from the battle instead."

“Understood. Will do.”

"We will meet again," Rohakan muttered, raising a hand in farewell.

***

Back at the university café, Blue Melody.

"Why didn’t you guys just say you were freshmen?" Yeriel asked with a smile, looking at Ahan, who sat across from her.

"... No, it was our oversight," Ahan replied. _{fгeewebnovёl.com}

"An oversight? Don't worry about it. If you're freshmen from another nation, it makes sense you wouldn’t know about the one-drink-per-person rule. Classes haven’t even started yet—I figured you were at least sophomores or juniors."

"Thank you for your understanding."

"No worries. But is she the lady you serve?" Yeriel asked, gesturing toward the grass field by the café.

Sophien—no, Soliet—stood there, surrounded by a few stray cats.

"Where did all those stray cats come from?" Yeriel muttered.

Soliet stood still as the cats curled around her feet, seeking her attention.

Well, that is strange—cats are looking for attention while the person stands unmoved. Isn't it usually the other way around? Yeriel thought.

“So cold. She could at least give them a single petting.”

"... That is indeed true."

As Yeriel sipped her coffee, stealing quiet glances at Soliet...

— Pay him no mind.

A deep voice echoed from somewhere, and Yeriel’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Pardon me, but did you just say something?" Ahan asked, turning to Yeriel.

"No, I didn’t say anything. But... you heard it too, didn’t you?"

"Yes... something about paying someone no mind..."

— Paying him no mind is one thing, but what if he does something?

The voice echoed once more, and this time, there was no doubt—it was Ihelm’s.

— Do not worry. Kagan Luna can't do a damn thing. Just leave him to rot.

The voice that answered was Deculein’s. As Yeriel glanced around, she soon realized—it was echoing from their own table.

— By the way, what is your younger sister up to these days? I heard she dropped out of university.

Once again, Ihelm’s voice echoed, questioning Deculein.

— I have told you not to speak of her. It’s none of your concern.

— Oh, right. Deculein, are you meeting Her Highness, the Princess, this time? I heard there’s a banquet.

— There’s no need. It’s not a duty, so why waste my time?

— Why not? A meeting can only work in your favor. It’s always wise to form connections early.

— Rumors abound that she is cruel and ferocious. And as a Yukline, my presence—or absence—will cause gossip to spread all the same. It is best to let absence speak for itself...

“... Huh? Oh... Okay,” Yeriel replied, hesitating before taking the offered hand.

“... Pardon?” Ahan muttered, blinking at the sudden command, and after a brief pause, a small smile crossed her lips. “Oh, I see.”

I have never been one to concern myself with another’s past, yet lately—no, when it comes to Deculein, I cannot help but be strangely curious. Of course, it has nothing to do with the assimilation or that ridiculous conversation about ‘There is no need to meet Her Highness, the Princess.’ Sophien thought.

Snore— Snore—

Scratch— Scratch—

I scribbled the spell Rohakan had taught me onto magical paper, my fountain pen gliding across the surface in a rush of ink. As I wrote, his words echoed in my mind—this might bring the entire world to a halt.

“Yawwwn—!”

As I contemplated the concept of Telekinesis, the sound of Epherene’s morning call, loud and brash like an elephant’s trumpet, echoed through the air. When I glanced outside, I realized dawn had already broken. My notes were now filled with Rohakan’s spells, hastily scribbled down in the quiet hours of the night.

“Yawwwn...”