A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 229

Chapter 229: To Everyday Life (1)

... Sophien, the regressor, was born into greatness. From the moment of her first breath, she bore the blood of the Empire’s true sovereign line—its firstborn, its rightful heir. Hers was a legitimacy so absolute, so unshakable, that even in the long history of the Empire, few could match it.

However, for all the perfection of her sovereign reign, nothing within it gave her life true meaning, as she lived a paradox—shadowed by death, yet forever denied its end.

Even the notion of dying one day seemed like a distant myth, and she began to wonder if the quiet grace of a natural death would ever be hers. The final page of life—where even Empires must submit—seemed a distant thought, one that might never turn for her.

If, after growing old and finally reaching her natural death, Sophien were to once more return to the first of January—if death refused to take hold and time merely circled back upon itself—such a life would seem destined to never really end. Perhaps the better truth was that it could never end at all.

While others lived in quiet fear of a distant death they could only imagine, Sophien reflected on a world where death never came—where her end did not exist. Instead, she bore the weight of a fate that looped forever, trapped in the cycle of dying, only to live again.

Therefore, Sophien craved ennui. If she learned at a slower pace, allowed her thoughts to wander, and viewed the world through a lens of lethargy—then maybe, just maybe, she could forget that unending loop for a while. Perhaps she could step outside of it, even if only for a breath.

... However, someone had broken that defense mechanism of hers. From the moment she met him, the instructor mage, through the changing seasons and into the present, he had always pressed her to learn. He demanded she face the world. He encouraged her to learn, to feel. And instead of lethargy, he taught her something else entirely.

At first, Sophien welcomed it with curiosity—he was merely something new, something strange. But as time passed, he rooted himself deeper in her heart, like a thorn lodged in a place she couldn’t reach.

Because of him, she experienced pain. Because of him, she laughed, grew angry, and dreamed. For the first time, she imagined a future not lived alone. And that, above all else, felt unfamiliar.

“... Hmm.”

Chirp, chirp— Chirp, chirp—

Morning had broken, and birdsong drifted through the quiet air. In that still moment, Sophien looked at Deculein without saying a word.

“... It seems he’s sleeping,” Ahan said, her eyes following Sophien’s glance to Deculein.

“So it seems,” Sophien replied.

Deculein was asleep. Of course, he was neither slumped nor collapsed, but standing upright beyond the private chamber doors of the Imperial Palace—silent and still, like a knight on watch.

"He entered the Imperial Palace unannounced... only to fall asleep as if nothing had happened. And this is the man who claimed he'd seen my death in the future?"

“Yes, Your Majesty. For the Professor, it was quite unlike him to speak in such unsettling words...”

A smile tugged at Sophien’s lips, and her disbelief was quiet.

“What would Your Majesty have us do?” Ahan asked.

“Well,” Sophien muttered, tapping her finger to her chin. “For now, consider this his punishment.”

Sophien reached out and poked Deculein’s cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up.

“Your Majesty, do take care. The Professor won’t be pleased.”

“... Let him be displeased; it’s not as if he can do anything about it.”

Ahan looked up at Sophien with silent admiration—the only person in the world who could speak to Professor Deculein like that and mean every word.

“However... once should be enough,” Sophien added, pulling her finger back.

Even an Empress must approach certain subjects with caution; instead, Sophien merely looked at the sleeping Deculein in silence.

“... Ahan.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Suddenly, Sophien remembered Rohakan’s prophecy—how she would one day fall in love with Deculein, only to take his life with her own hands. The one person who could give meaning to her existence, she was destined to destroy.

"I, perhaps, would... for this Professor—"

“N-no, that’s not it! I swear, it’s urgent! Please—wait—ah! Agh! Let me through! Aghhh! Agh! Aghh!”

Sophien remained silent.

“Agh! Aghhh! Aghhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“... What in the world is this madness?”

Just as a sudden scream rang out from beneath the bedchamber steps, Sophien’s brow creased in annoyance—at that moment, Deculein woke, his eyes slowly opening.

“You’re finally awake, Professor. Nothing happened, so you needn’t—”

“Aghhhhh! Let go of me! I said, let goooooo—!”

Another shriek echoed through the silence.

“... That must be Epherene,” Deculein muttered as he listened to the chaotic screaming , his breath sounding more like a sigh.

“Epherene? You mean your protégé?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It seems something has happened to her,” Deculein replied, as if he hadn’t just been asleep.

Outwardly, he appeared flawless, as if not a single moment of sleep had passed.

"Then go and see her."

"No, Your Majesty. You are still in danger—"

"Aren’t you hilarious? If there had been any danger, I’d be dead by now while you were fast asleep."

Then, Deculein clenched his jaw in silence, masking the sting behind a calm exterior.

“So, even you know how to be embarrassed,” Sophien said with a laugh.

“... Ahem,” Deculein murmured, masking his discomfort behind a faint cough.

***

In the prison beneath the Imperial Palace, I stood before the bars and frowned at the sight of Epherene locked inside.

“Hehe.”

And yet, there she was—smiling like a fool behind the bars, as if nothing were wrong, like a puppy wagging its tail.

“Speak,” I said.

"Professor! I'm really back—back in the present! I looked at the calendar and nearly jumped. It’s February!"

I glanced at her wrist and saw a bracelet—once broken, now clumsily bound with a strip of tape.

“How did this happen?” Epherene asked, shaking the bars with a smile.

“That so-called god must’ve withdrawn its hand. With its schemes already laid bare, any further interference would only risk losing a crucial piece from its board.”

“So, does that mean they’ve surrendered? Is it really over?”

"No," I replied, my eyes falling to the pocket watch resting at her waist.

“Hmm? What is that?”

"Her Majesty’s authority still remains with you, and the ninth of April has yet to come. If your regression is indeed unending, then that presents a problem of its own."

The strain of overcoming regression had taken a heavy toll. Even by an Iron Man’s measure, the persistent headache and exhaustion hung on to me, buried deep in my bones.

"Oh... Then, I’m still not out of danger, am I?"

"No, you're not in danger. If anything, you're safer than anyone else alive," I replied, shaking my head at Epherene’s concern.

"Really? Why’s that?" Epherene asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“You will only be in danger when Her Majesty dies. But as she lives now, so will your safety.”

“But I still don’t understand why.”

"Because with your death, the authority will pass back to Her Majesty."

“... Oh!”

That was the nature of the authority—what had once slipped from Sophien’s control had found its way to Epherene. But if Epherene were to die, it would return to Sophien, just the same.

"Therefore, the Altar will never kill you. Even if you begged for death and laid your life bare, they’d only turn their blades on those who dared to try."

"Umm... I guess that's a good thing?"

Of course, there's always a chance of her being kidnapped, but as long as she’s still breathing, it won't be too difficult to deal with. Epherene isn't that easy to take anyway, I thought.

“What will you do now, Professor?” Epherene asked.

“I must step into the central politics,” I replied.

“Politics?”

“Yes. I remember each name you placed in my hands.”

Those on the list who supported the Altar or moved in its shadows—I would hunt them down to the last. If guilt bound them, so be it; but if it didn’t, I would forge their wrongdoings myself. None would escape.

“Alright. Then I’ll tear through the Mage Tower with everything I’ve learned these past two years,” Epherene said, glancing around the empty cell and motioning for me to come closer. “Professor, just for a moment...”

"Stop delaying and just say it from there," I replied.

“Oh, come on... It’s a secret, though. The truth is...”

Gulp—

“Assistant Professor Allen is alive,” Epherene whispered, the words slipping out like classified information.

I remained silent.

“It is shocking news, isn’t it?” Epherene added. “I wasn’t going to say anything—I felt like it wasn’t my place to share, since it was Assistant Professor Allen’s privacy, after all. But, ah!”

Creeeeak—

At that moment, the iron door of the underground prison creaked open, and Epherene clamped both hands over her mouth.

“Oh, Professor, I beg your pardon!” Delic said, stepping into the underground prison.

Delic, accompanied by several of his knights, offered a formal salute before shooting a glare toward the prison cell so intense it could’ve cut metal—his eyes brimming with outrage.

“This is unforgivable! Which fool of a knight dared to lock the Professor’s protégé in this place? If you allow me, I’ll find the bastard and make sure he regrets—”

"That won’t be necessary. She did cause a disturbance, after all."

“Knight Delic!” Epherene called out from behind the bars, beaming as she waved. “It’s been a while!”

“... Umm,” Delic muttered, his brow furrowing with hesitant confusion.

“Oh, right. We’re not exactly close anymore,” Epherene said, flinching as the words left her lips.

"Umm... Let me open the cell for you."

“... Yes, sir.”

Delic stepped forward, turned the key, and the prison door groaned open.

“Let go of everything that came before,” I whispered, watching the bitter shadow pass across Epherene’s face.

Epherene remained silent.

“And, Delic,” I called.

“Yes, sir!” Delic replied, offering a formal salute as he turned toward me.

"Soon, two personal escort knights will be appointed to serve Her Majesty the Empress alone."

"Pardon me? Oh, yes, sir. I understand.”

“And you will be my first recommendation.”

“Oh, yes, sir!”

Plop—

... Tap.

Blub, blub—!

“Hmph. It’s only a thought, nothing more,” Sophien replied, shaking her head. “I could never overcome regression the way Deculein does. My mental strength is nowhere near as strong as that man’s over there.”

Twaaaang—!

Splash—!

"A-Arghh! Help! I’m drowning—please, help me!" Epherene cried. "It's too deep here—P-Professor! It's too deep!"

"Glub—gah! Professor—hey! Hey, Deculein! Gah—blub—!"

No doubt, he’s coming to boast about his catch, Sophien thought.

As I had expected.