A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 249

Chapter 249: Loss (3)

The wind blew softly across the shore, waves melting into the sand, salt riding the breeze. Gulls called through the sky, and the waves spread infinitely over the Island of the Voice, where the dead and the living lost the memories of themselves. And there, with Sylvia, I walked.

"I have noticed that the island has been expanding day by day," I said.

"... How did you notice that," Sylvia said.

Today’s walk took the place of our lesson, as Sylvia said it was the reward she had wanted.

"But it shouldn't cause any trouble."

"No, it will cause a problem. If the island continues to expand, it may eventually consume the entire continent," I replied.

There were four great problems in the Voice: first, it brought the dead back; second, it swallowed memory whole; third, it followed its own sense of time; and lastly, it had the nature of a wave—always expanding and never-ending.

Of all the Voice’s problems, the most dangerous was its nature as a wave; the demon, desperate to become the world itself, had tried to swallow the continent with its island, and though Sylvia had consumed it whole, the instinct survived.

"I can take care of it."

“No—”

"I really can," Sylvia said, leaning her weight into my shoulder, her cheeks puffed up like balloons.

I curled my fingers, readying them for a flick.

"It’s part of the clause," Sylvia added, flinching as she noticed my fingers curl up for a flick before presenting the contract to me.

As Sylvia had said, the clause existed—right there, sealed in the contract between us.

[Tutoring Contract]

◆ This Tutoring Contract is entered into between Tutor Deculein (hereinafter referred to as "Party A") and Student Sylvia (hereinafter referred to as "Party B"), under the following terms and conditions:

Article 1 [Curriculum Details]

Party A agrees to tutor Party B according to the specialized Primary Colors Completion curriculum with...

.......

Article 9 [Special Clauses]

1. Should Party B demonstrate a complete and objective understanding of the assigned theory, Party B will be granted unrestricted free time.

2. Tutoring sessions are scheduled daily at three o'clock in the afternoon. However, in the event of natural disasters or emergencies concerning Party B, sessions may be canceled without prior notice.

3. During all tutoring sessions, Party B is required to address Party A with proper formality and title.

My eyes rested on the special clause in the contract.

“Sylvia,” I called.

"Yes, Professor," Sylvia replied, her hands slipping behind her back.

"Mana pools from the place where the previous iteration of myself had fallen."

“Mana pools.”

Whether she is questioning me or agreeing, I cannot tell, I thought.

"Indeed, I could see the traces of my previous iteration, and I had died at your desk."

Through my Sharp Eyesight, I saw the trace of my previous iteration—the body long since dissolved—but the mana of its presence still lingered, flickering in the air. That, too, must have been a product of Deculein’s unshakable mental strength.

"I wonder what I must have thought as I looked at you," I added.

I knew the truth—the demon still lived inside Sylvia, and she had not overcome the Voice. It had wrapped itself around her soul and blended with her until she couldn’t tell where she ended and it began.

However, that was exactly why the solution was so simple—the Voice could be exterminated if I killed Sylvia and brought the island down with her.

“I don’t know, Professor.”

My previous iteration had known and had the clear thought, and so did I. Without death—or more precisely, without my own hand bringing it—there would have been no possibility left for this island.

"Let’s sit over there. My legs are tired," Sylvia said, pointing ahead.

It was a curbside bench, and Sylvia slipped her fingers around my sleeve, leading me there, and the two of us sat down together.

"... It’s already been ten days since you came, Professor."

When I looked at Sylvia, she turned to face me, and in her clear golden eyes, a flicker of sadness and determination rooted itself.

"Will it be goodbye soon?" Sylvia asked, her fingers curling into my sleeve as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"That may well be," I replied, making no move to push Sylvia away as she leaned against my shoulder.

"... I think I’ll be the one to win our wager, Professor."

However, I remained still, allowing the silence to give me time to gather my thoughts.

... No—I hadn’t needed to think at all. From the moment I arrived, my magic theory had always been centered on that one purpose, and since I had already made my determination, all that remained was to follow it.

“Professor.”

At that moment, Sylvia looked up at me, her face lightly touched with emotion.

"You were trying to teach me what it means to lose someone, and I know that now."

The wind caught her golden hair, setting it flowing like silk in the breeze, and her eyes shimmered like stars scattered across the sky. Sylvia looked so achingly beautiful that my heart ached with pity for her.

"But it is very strange," Sylvia continued, her finger brushing my lips as a faint smile bloomed across her frozen features. "Even if the current iteration of yourself dies..."

Sylvia’s voice trembled like a ripple on still water.

“And if the next iteration of yourself dies...”

Sylvia's words reached only me, full of meaning meant for no one else.

"And if the next, next iteration of yourself dies again and again, and if the next, next, next iteration of yourself dies more and more, no matter how many times... I will only end up loving you more each time instead."

Sylvia’s confession was pure—so fragile it trembled like a tear that had not fallen.

"Which means, I am certain in saying that I’ve already won our wager."

Sylvia's emotions seeped into me like drizzle soaking into the earth.

"... I see," I said, nodding as I met Sylvia's eyes.

"... Yes, it is," Sylvia replied, snuggling into my chest and slipping her arms around my waist, her breath steady and peaceful against me.

"It may well be so."

... This is sufficient for me—words more than enough to move toward the end and seal my determination, I thought.

“I love you. I really love you.”

From now on, I will need to bear only what I must endure.

***

The sixth iteration of Deculein died—a natural death, no different from the one before. Sylvia accepted it with difficulty, as she always did. But the seventh iteration of Deculein that followed was different. Even Sylvia and Idnik found it strangely unexpected.

“By his own?” Idnik asked.

"Yes!" Sylvia replied, the exclamation slipping from her lips as she nodded, a bright light dancing in her eyes.

"So... what you're telling me is that Deculein came into being on his own? On this island?" Idnik repeated, scratching her temple at Sylvia’s rare—and perhaps first—display of such spirit.

"Yes, Deculein wants to live here too, Idnik. Deculein's mental strength remains on this island, using my power to raise himself back to life here on his own."

Idnik remained silent.

"So that he can live with me. I think he likes me," Sylvia said.

"... Don't you think you're pushing it just a bit too far?"

At Idnik's words, Sylvia narrowed her eyes at her.

Idnik cleared her throat and turned her eyes away, only to land on Deculein as he stepped out of the sea.

"I’ll be waiting at home. Show Deculein around the island properly, Idnik."

Ever since, it has been Idnik who took the lead in guiding Deculein on the island. In its own way, it was Sylvia's game of push and pull with Deculein.

It seems she finds herself too shy to meet him so soon, Idnik thought.

“Sure.”

"Okay," Sylvia replied, turning on her heel and slipping away.

"Hey, Deculein! Seventh iteration of Deculein! Welcome!" Idnik said, waving her hands as she approached him.

The seventh iteration of Deculein stepped onto the shore, his brow furrowed as he looked her way. Memory resets—always more exhausting than they appeared—were always like that for her.

***

Idnik and I stepped into the guild room, and I couldn't shake the question of whether I really was the seventh iteration of Deculein, as Jukaken and Arlos greeted me as if no difference had existed.

"Here he comes again. Oh, so are we starting over?" Jukaken asked.

"Here is your magic theory. There are about a thousand pages," Arlos said, paying no mind to Jukaken as she offered the large box.

Rustle— Rustle—

Arlos’s face—a work of art, a beauty that calms the storms inside me the moment I see it.

"Hehehe. Of course, what’d you expect? It's my handiwork. Man, only if I could’ve purchased mana stones, it would’ve been even better," Jukaken replied.

“Hahaha...?”

Rustle—

Even if every coin on the island were spent, it wouldn’t be enough to buy the mana stones needed for this grand magic... Idnik thought.

Gulp—