A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 244

Chapter 244: From The Ashes (1)

The next morning, Deculein and Idnik walked side by side through the island’s forest, where fallen leaves blanketed the earth.

"Roaming this island for over twelve hours is dangerous—even for me," Idnik said.

The limit of assimilation was twelve hours. Beyond that, prolonged exposure to the Voice would begin to fade the memory away like rain on stone, and even someone like Idnik was not immune to it.

"It would be wise for you to move around like we do, since we don’t know what might happen," Idnik added.

"How long did I last the time before?" Deculein inquired.

"You were created at four in the afternoon, and by six the next morning, you were gone—fourteen hours, exactly."

It had been Sylvia who discarded him; however, Idnik kept that to herself.

"Indeed. In the enemy's territory, one must move with the silent elegance of a sand dune," Deculein replied.

“What... Sand dune?”

“Like a desert dune, seen only after it has already changed everything.”

“Don’t talk like you know everything.”

Rustle— Rustle—

Without a word, Deculein moved with the elegance of a perfect aristocrat—every step a declaration of who he was. And as Idnik walked beside him, a question began to form in her mind.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Idnik said.

“I don’t mind.”

“... You're not going to see your former fiancée?”

At that moment, a breeze slipped through the trees, and the forest branches rustled in its wake.

“I’ll have to,” Deculein replied with a nod.

"Hmm~ And what exactly do you hope to gain by seeing your—"

“I will have to kill her.”

Whooooooosh—

A stronger wind swept through the forest, and the leaves came down in a golden shower from the sky.

“You make it sound so simple, but can you really go through with it?” Idnik asked, scratching the back of her neck.

"It's nothing but a fake. Killing it is no more than the work of exterminating a demon," Deculein replied, nodding.

“... Would it still mean nothing, even if she mirrored the woman you loved?”

“It’s because I loved her that I must be the one to kill it.”

At Deculein’s words, Idnik’s eyes widened.

“The woman my soul loved above all else,” Deculein continued, brushing a dry leaf from his shoulder before turning to face Idnik.

Just one word. That was all it took for Idnik to feel the shape of his love, and in that recognition, something too deep within her was touched, something she couldn't explain.

“It’s a demon—one that dares to wear her form,” Deculein concluded, his blue eyes quietly burning with cold hostility. “There’s no world in which I let it continue to live.”

Deculein’s voice, burning with thunderous rage, shook the forest to its roots, and its echo spread like a wave of wrath.

“... Then, follow me. Let’s head to where Jukaken is,” Idnik replied, motioning with her chin with a seriousness that left no room for doubt.

“Jukaken, is he still on this island?”

"Yes, unfortunately, he also got trapped. Then I suppose you’ve met Jukaken as well?"

“Often enough. I’ve even taken a commission from him,” I replied.

Jukaken, a leading figure of the Six Serpents and a cornerstone of the underworld, was the one who first gave me the quest to eliminate Cielia and Yuara.

***

— The woman my soul loved above all else.

At the heart of the island, in a tall, narrow house built like a lighthouse watching every horizon, Sylvia heard Deculein’s voice—carried to her ear by the spell Wind.

“The one his soul loved above all else,” Sylvia muttered, her eyes falling closed.

If only it were me. I really wish it were me, Sylvia thought.

And so, Sylvia continued to manifest Deculein in his entirety, longing for the island to mature into something real and offer her a new beginning in which to live.

To be with Deculein, to love him and be loved by him...

“Sylvia!” Cielia called, brushing her fingers over Sylvia's shoulder.

Sylvia flinched as a touch brushed her shoulder from behind.

“What are you thinking about~?"

“Not thinking about anything at all.”

Cielia smiled sweetly as she held out a plate of apple slices—peeled and notched in the familiar shape of a rabbit, each piece tenderly shaped by hand.

“Thank you, they’re so cute,” Sylvia said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Okay. Go on, then. Do your best.”

As Cielia stepped out, Sylvia stared at the grimoire on her desk with a slight pout tugging at her lips before picking up her pen.

Though Sylvia wished to spend a little longer watching Deculein, she knew that this Deculein wouldn’t last and would melt away before long. There was still studying to be done, and if she hoped to perfect this island and draw a Deculein even closer to the real one, her magic—and her theory—had to be impeccable.

Scritch— Scritch—

Writing lines of a complex spell on the blank sheet of magic paper, Sylvia felt something warm begin to rise inside her—an unspoken sense of happiness.

With both Deculein and Cielia here—two people Sylvia loved more than words could express—her heart was filled so completely, and just knowing they were near was enough to make her feel whole...

***

“A shantytown,” I said, as no other word described the place before me in other terms.

“Told you, didn’t I? No one’s got it better than me out here,” Idnik replied.

This was the island's edge, a zone where the remaining adventurers congregated. Dilapidated buildings crowded for space, their disrepair evident. Makeshift stalls, assembled from mere planks, dotted the area, and most adventurers slept directly on the earth, indistinguishable from the homeless.

“At least here, you’re safe from assimilation. The dirt’s real, and even the planks here are real,” Idnik added, giving one of the slumped homeless a nudge with her boot. “... Hey, Jukaken.”

“What now...” Jukaken muttered, blinking drowsily as he rolled over and looked up at us.

I remembered Jukaken as quite a handsome man, but now he was unrecognizable from his former self, with an overgrown, filthy beard and a face covered in a film of sweat and dirt.

“... Deculein?!”

As Jukaken, startled, shouted my name, I braced for the weight of curious stares. However, the adventurers around us, seemingly resigned to their fate, remained indifferent—either asleep or lost in their own worlds, passing time idly.

“Wait... how... No, you’re not real. He's a fake, right?” Jukaken asked, turning his eyes to Idnik.

Though Idnik offered no reply, Jukaken continued to speak, his voice cutting through the silence like an unwelcome breeze.​

“Of course he is, right? That freak at the lighthouse kept getting better, day by day. And now look—that psycho has drawn a Deculein that’s damn near indistinguishable...”

Jukaken's eyes scanned me from head to toe, and Idnik moved her hand, her finger pressing firmly against his eye—a silent reprimand that needed no words.

“Agh—my eyes!” Jukaken screamed, both hands pressed hard against his eyes as if to hold back the pain.

Brrrrr—

Jukaken trembled uncontrollably, and I couldn't help but find it laughable.

“You fuck—what the hell was that?! I can’t see!”

"This one is not a fake. He’s real,” Idnik replied.

“Goddamn it, pops out of nowhere and stabs me...”

Jukaken fell silent, the words caught in his throat before they had the chance to be completed.

“... Say that again? What was that? Fake or real?” Jukaken asked, rubbing his ear, his eyes red and burning.

“It’s real—this Deculein you see now.”

Gulp.

“Are you real—actually real?” Jukaken asked, glancing around before leaning in.

“Believe whatever you like. Just take that filthy face out of my sight—just looking at you is misery,” I said.

“You really are the real one!” Jukaken said, the hairs on his neck standing. “Then you being here—does that mean you’ve come to...”

"I've come to create the passage out."

“... Hah!” Jukaken shouted, balling his fists and spinning in circles like a lunatic dancing in the rain. “Some part of me always believed there’d be a break in the clouds. That I wouldn’t die on this goddamn horror island.”

“Someone fit to carry out orders—that’s what I need. Do you understand what that means?” I inquired.

“Oh, absolutely! This way—there’s a guild room!” Jukaken replied, his smile shining as he sprinted ahead.

Was this how life looked after the Korean War, in those first days, when the country had nothing? I thought.

Arlos’s gleaming beauty, the very attribute that defined her, was dazzling—perfect for my Aesthetic Sense. My eyes, as if by instinct, couldn’t help but look, and she—perhaps sensing it—met my eyes as she looked back.

"Whoa there—"

“Whoa there? Get your fucking hands out of my face. You think I'm some kind of horse to you—"

Slaaaaash—!

Whizzzzzz...

“Oh... And I shouldn’t have lied to you. I lied because I felt bad, but no more of that. Deculein, you aren’t the third,” Idnik said.

Three times. Not once. That’s not crossing a line—that’s stepping over it as if it never mattered to him, I thought.