A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 253

Chapter 253: Life (1)

Behind me, at the island’s dock, Rogerio’s ship waited in silence, and ahead, the wind of the Voice pushed hard against my steps. I tucked the crystal orb away, dropped to one knee, and pressed my hand to the ground.

"You're starting it now?" Arlos asked.

Without a word, I poured my mana into the ground, and the mana of existence responded, operating the second stage of the grand magic into motion.

Doom—!

A single vibration, deep like the beat of a drum—and then, it was over.

“There,” I said.

Arlos tilted her head in confusion, but without saying a word, I turned away and made my way toward the ship where Rogerio and Epherene were waiting.

Soon, Arlos followed after me, but after only a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. Near the center of the Island of the Voice—close enough to feel, but too far to touch—mana began to pool, and demonic energy burst outward from deep within.

The demonic current seared through my lungs, setting my blood on edge, while the mist of demons darkened from all directions, staining the heavens black. It scraped against me, but I clamped down tight. Inside, dark cravings howled and thrashed, but with my mental strength tempered by endless deaths and struggles, I smothered the chaos boiling within.

"Arlos," I called as she stared out at the island.

Arlos, her hood drawn up, turned back to look at me.

"We're done here. From now on, what remains belongs to Sylvia."

Arlos nodded, then walked past me and boarded the ship.

***

In the deep woods, where trees grew thick and the grasses whispered, Sylvia stood in the middle of the magic circle, surrounded by the nature she and the Voice had created together, then closed her eyes.

Doom—!

The vibration that signaled the operation of Deculein’s mana and grand magic was the sign Sylvia had been waiting for; she poured her own mana deep into the earth, blending her Primary Colors into the mana Deculein had spread across the island.

In the next moment, a geometric magic circle bloomed across the island. The mana of Deculein and Sylvia flowed through its circuits, forging a spell whose reach swallowed the island’s foundation whole.

... Then, from somewhere deep within, Sylvia felt a ripple and sensed the Voice echoing through the hollows of her being.

“Come out,” Sylvia muttered.

At Sylvia’s faintest whisper of a word, a stream of mana burst from the magic circle, fastening itself to her chest before gripping something deep within her heart—and dragging it out into the light.

Skrreeeeeeek—!

The core of the Voice—the demon Sylvia had swallowed—was torn out from within her body, and in the next instant, it ruptured open, spilling demonic energy like ink, covering the sky, the island, and the ground below.

Fwooooooooosh...!

A storm of demonic energy raged, throwing dark crimson sparks into the air.

However, Sylvia stood firm, unwilling to grant the demon a moment’s mercy, and with her golden eyes, she looked through the black tide of the Voice’s demonic energy.

Cruuush...

The demon’s demonic energy twisted in a storm until, finally, as if exhausted, it gradually lost its force and began to settle. The core of the Voice retracted its demonic energy, seemingly spent, only to take shape again in the next moment, causing Sylvia’s breath to catch in her throat and her eyes to widen in shock.

— Sylvia.

The demon's voice called to Sylvia, and the face, the body, the perfectly neat clothing, even the eyes it used to meet hers—everything was the Voice, imitating Deculein down to the last detail.

Shaken but not entirely surprised, Sylvia took a deep breath, knowing demons always worked this way—slipping into the faces of those dearest to her, weaponizing human emotion to reach her heart.

— Sylvia.

The demon called Sylvia’s name in Deculein’s voice, wearing his face and the same familiar expression, every detail an exact replica, down to his breath.

However...

“... It’s okay,” Sylvia muttered.

It won’t work on me, Sylvia thought.

Sylvia drew a dagger from her belt—a small silver blade, a keepsake that Cielia had left to her long ago.

“I can handle this on my own.”

Then Deculein—no, the Voice—began to approach Sylvia, and she felt her heart pounding in a rhythm she couldn’t calm.

— Sylvia, you are crying.

The demon’s fingers brushed lightly against Sylvia’s face, gathering the tears like morning dew, and held them out to her.

However, Sylvia shook her head, her voice laced with iron, and replied, "It won’t work on me. I’m going to make you disappear."

— Indeed, I am aware.

“... What did you just say.”

However, the Voice’s reaction was not what Sylvia expected; there was a smile on its lips, and it gave a nod.

— I have dwelled within you for long, and I know now, as you do, that neither this voice nor this appearance can sway you.

To Sylvia, whose brow furrowed in confusion, the Voice continued offering a few more words.

At that moment, Sylvia tightened her grip on the dagger and, deep inside, a mocking smile crossed her lips.

— It’s been nearly ten years, Sylvia—the time we have spent together.

This, too, must be one of the demon’s manipulations—a method to lure the prey and consume them whole, and yet, in the absence of pity in my heart, I’m glad I don’t feel it, Sylvia thought.

— The land has changed, the island has flourished, and the years have been enough for even a demon to awaken thought—and perhaps, a heart.

The Voice looked at Sylvia with a strangely unreadable expression, and in those eyes, there wasn’t a trace of negative emotion.

— All that time, I tried to become the Deculein you loved, trying to persuade you. I watched the version of him you painted on the canvas and mirrored the components and properties of who he was, swimming endlessly across the sea toward us—I tried to become him.

Shing—

Sylvia drew the silver-bladed dagger from its sheath, and sunlight gleamed along its polished edge.

— ... However.

Despite everything, the Voice met the dagger's glint without so much as a flicker of fear in its eyes.

— I have spent everything trying to become Deculein, and as a result, I have succeeded in mirroring him.

At that moment, the demon let out a laugh—one that sounded almost as if even it couldn’t believe what had happened.

— But it was Deculein who ended up swallowing me.

Sylvia only watched the demon, her eyes clear, without saying a word.

— I was assimilated into Deculein; or rather, it was his mental strength that swallowed me whole.

The demon muttered to itself, bitterness in its voice.

— The bloodline of Yukline... perhaps they were never human to begin with, but always destined to be enemies of demons.

Though the Voice spoke with bitterness, it soon gathered itself, composing its expression before turning to look at its longtime friend—Sylvia.

— However, ironically, it’s because I became so much like Deculein.

The demon reached its hand out to Sylvia—smooth as velvet, noble in every line that mirrored Deculein’s, as if it could have belonged to a noble pianist.

— I find this death, the one you offer, and have come to both accept and welcome it.

Tap...

The demon’s hand touched Sylvia’s cheek, brushing it tenderly as it whispered in a gentle voice.

— ... Sylvia, perhaps you could choose to stay in this place with me—the one who has become Deculein.

Sylvia shook her head.

A rich smile curled on its lips.

— That is correct.

Sylvia gritted her teeth and drove the dagger forward.

Crush—!

The dagger struck deep into the heart of the Voice—but there was no reaction, no spurt of blood, no staggering, no ragged breath, nor did it even flinch. Instead, it leaned close and brought its lips near her ear.

— If it were Deculein, these would be his words.

With a smile on its lips and a whisper like a fading wind...

— ... That I am proud of you.

The Voice rested its weight on Sylvia’s shoulder—and in that silence, it faded.

Fwoooooooooooosh—!

Then, with a sound like the world cracking open, it tore through the island as all the darkness, demonic energy, and the core of the Voice were destroyed, and every last trace of the demon was pulled into the storm it had birthed.

“... Goodbye, my bad friend,” Sylvia muttered.

Though it ended in a heartbeat, Sylvia watched the moment in silence with her eyes, feeling the death of the Voice that had been with her for so long.

Swoooooosh...

As the sound of the waves faded into the distance, the island fell into silence, and Sylvia remained behind, looking around before turning inward, as if in meditation, to look into her heart.

Craaaackle— Craaaackle—

At that moment, the silence was broken by the loud ring of Deculein’s crystal orb.

— It worked! Oh!

And this foolish voice crackling through the crystal orb—no mistaking it, there’s only one person who sounds that ridiculous... this one’s my foolish friend, Sylvia thought.

— Professor! Did you find Sylvia?

“I am Sylvia.”

Sylvia replied without much thought, but the sudden drain of mana from just a few words made her shoulders stiffen, as the weight of those words was heavier than they seemed.

— ... Wait—what? Why do you have Professor’s crystal orb?

Epherene asked.

Though more than half her mana had already drained away from activating the grand magic, Sylvia gave Epherene an answer to her question.

“Because I took it.”

— What are you talking about... No way. Sylvia, what’s going on over there?

And once again, Epherene’s foolish voice crackled back through.

Is her mana holding up. It's probably a lot weaker than mine right now... Anyway, how should I respond to that.

"I killed Deculein," Sylvia replied after a brief silence, her smile teasing.

— ... What?

What a dramatically shocked voice. I bet her eyes are wide, mouth hanging open, wearing that same foolish expression she always makes. But I mean it. Today, I killed the Deculein inside me—the one I couldn’t stop chasing, the one that used to tie me down, Sylvia thought.

— What is that supposed to—

Only after letting go of Deculein did Sylvia begin to understand what true love was meant to be.

— Ugh... Grrk...!

Epherene let out an even more foolish scream before passing out, and the transmission ended in a crackle of static.

Sylvia gave a light chuckle.

“... Sylvia.”

At that moment, Sylvia heard a voice calling her through the brush.

“Congratulations.”

Idnik, my mentor, Sylvia thought.

“You’ve finally broken the shell of an egg,” Idnik said, no longer looking at Sylvia as a mentor would a protégé, nor as an adult to a child, but as one mage recognizing another.

“All I’ve done is stand on my own two feet. Now, it’s time to create a new shell of an egg,” Sylvia replied, shaking her head.

By creating a new shell, I’ll retrieve the power of the Voice that has spread across the continent. That’s the responsibility I have left.

Whoooosh—

This means she was here from the beginning, under the effect of a hallucination spell.

Being alone, being left behind... Yes, it will be painful. It will break me in ways I can’t explain. But in that pain, I’ll be able to find happiness too. Because now—even if I came to it too late—I’ve learned to see the world as it really is... all thanks to you.

And I thank you for helping me stand on my own. I love you more than I know how to say. I want to live like you did—not as an archmage who lives alone, but as one who teaches, who gives. So even if it takes a long time, I’ll keep trying and I promise I’ll return to you.

And the life we will all spend together will finally become real—the life that really belongs to me.

Whooooooosh...

By accepting the death of my incomplete self, has the pendulum of identity, once so tied to Deculein, finally begun to swing back—even slightly—toward Kim Woo-Jin? I thought.

"Ahem. That’s enough for me. I think I’ll escape from the one who sees me not as a person, but as a masterpiece in progress," Arlos replied, and with that, she became a mannequin.