A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Imperial Palace (3)

Deculein departed as promised, without offering any rematches or retries. Meanwhile, Louina remained seated, and Sophien turned her gaze toward her.

"Louina, what is your assessment of this position?" Sophien inquired.

"... It appears better than mine," Louina admitted honestly, despite the sting to her pride.

Sophien nodded in agreement and said, "Much better. Not only more skillful but also far more engaging. You are too timid, Louina."

"... I apologize," Louina responded.

"Did you grow up being reprimanded harshly by someone?"

“No, I just read books at home, Your Majesty,” Louina responded calmly to Sophien's words, her face betraying no emotion.

"The relationship between Yukline and McQueen is strained, isn't it?"

"... No, Your Majesty," Louina replied, her discomfort evident. She lowered her head, attempting to mask her expression.

Fifteen years ago, during the Berhert Conference, the previous head of the Yukline family attacked and defeated the head of the McQueen family, crippling and breaking Louina’s father. Shamelessly, he later claimed it wasn’t intentional, insisting that such incidents were common at Berhert.

He offered financial support to the family under the pretense of mercy, demanding McQueen’s Magic Vision in return, with an empty promise to return them once McQueen had recovered. At that time, the McQueen family had no choice but to accept, choosing the lesser of two evils. This was not the first atrocity committed by the Yukline family.

Even under Deculein's leadership, these actions continued, resulting in many of McQueen’s Magical Visions being locked away in Yukline’s underground library. Thus, Louina’s foremost goal was to reclaim her family’s Magical Visions.

After a prolonged silence, Sophien leaned forward, peering into Louina's eyes and asked, "Are you shedding tears?"

Startled, Louina shook her head. Sophien could easily discern the anger and hatred within her. Reading Louina’s emotions was simple, but Deculein was different. His feelings were shrouded in a dusty haze, opaque and revealing no trace of sentiment.

"Louina," Sophien called.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Is this your gift?" Sophien asked, placing her hand on the magical texts Louina had brought.

Louina, speaking with pride because it was a rare and valuable item, replied, "Yes, Your Majesty. These are magical insights penned by Great Elder Drjekdan of Berhert in his youth—"

"Let me read them. You may leave now. A promise is a promise."

"... Yes, Your Majesty," Louina replied softly before leaving the room.

Sophien propped her chin on her hand, gazing at the chessboard. With the departure of the two mages, the classroom was silent, save for one remaining figure.

"Keiron, what do you make of this position? It appears there is no way out."

At this stage, there was no escape. No matter how deeply she thought, the conclusion was always her defeat. The only solution was to never fall into such a predicament in the first place.

With an unusual hint of cheerfulness, Keiron, usually stoic, remarked, "The world is vast, Your Majesty."

Sophien twisted her lips and glared at him and said, "I did not lose."

She picked up her king piece, and it crumbled to dust in her grasp. Keiron raised an eyebrow at this display of magic.

"If I had taken my time, I would have won. I got caught up in his tricks," Sophien stated with confidence.

She was certain she could win if given another chance, having lost her pace by getting caught up in his speed.

"When is the next lesson?" Sophien inquired, addressing Keiron.

"The knights will arrive in three days, Your Majesty," Keiron replied.

Sophien closed her eyes without responding, soon lost in her thoughts. Keiron, understanding her need for silence, remained silent.

***

"It's still beyond my capabilities," I wondered.

I lost the chess match. I had poured all my mana into my Comprehension to predict the next moves and pressure her, but my mana reserves were exhausted within twenty minutes. I forced myself to continue, but I couldn't finish the match. However, I realized that Comprehension could be temporarily amplified.

During the match, my Comprehension sharpened, enabling me to make strategic moves I wouldn’t normally consider. However, it was incredibly exhausting, and now that it was over, I couldn’t even remember my moves. It felt more like a manifestation of power than a process of learning or studying.

Feeling the lingering effects of mana exhaustion, I walked to the parking lot outside the outer palace. My car was parked next to Louina's, and I overheard the drivers chatting.

"I heard that the coachmen are finally getting their licenses."

“Indeed? It seems the noble lords have abandoned carriages these days.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’m fortunate to have realized it early.”

“But do you know who initiated this automobile trend?”

"Who might that be?" _{freeweɓnovēl.coɱ}

“It’s Professor Deculein. Every trend in the capital begins with him.”

Even among the drivers, the difference was evident. My driver stood straight, while Louina’s driver bowed respectfully.

“Ah, welcome back, Sir!”

“It’s an honor to meet you!”

As I approached, both drivers bowed. I nodded and got into the car, instructing, “Drive to the mansion.”

“Yes, sir!”

The engine roared to life as we left the parking lot. After a short drive, I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Louina’s car following closely. I shifted my gaze back to the road and noticed a faint shimmer on the leather seat of the front passenger chair—a trace of mana. Narrowing my eyes, I watched as it gradually formed into words.

— Have you abandoned us?

“Jeff.”

“Yes, sir?”

Though surprising, I remained composed. Casually, I glanced around the car's interior. There were no signs of danger.

"Was the car left unattended at any point?"

“No, sir. I stayed close by since we were near the palace...”

Jeff, though merely a driver, was a former mercenary. For someone to inscribe those words unnoticed by him, they must have been no ordinary person.

— Have you abandoned us?

Considering the message, it's probably from Deculein’s old contacts. This could be problematic since they’re likely involved in the underworld.

"Did anyone come near or speak to you?"

"... Oh." Jeff nodded, seeming to have remembered something. "I heard Mage Louina bought her mansion in the capital. It seems she's planning to live there."

I gazed out the window as the scenery passed by. Darkness briefly enveloped the view. Initially, I thought it was a mana effect, but it was just the shadow of a tree.

“I see.”

Looking back in the mirror, I saw that Louina’s car had vanished. I opened a book, reading calmly while contemplating Deculein’s network. As a player, I found Deculein’s subordinates naturally troublesome; many were stronger named villains than Deculein himself.

However, his network was thin. If Deculein died, his followers wouldn’t seek revenge; they’d simply disperse. In reality, Deculein’s underworld ties quickly dissolved once I cut off their sponsorship after becoming Deculein. Yet, something felt different now.

“I must contemplate this carefully.”

These people felt different. I had some ideas about who they might be, but I chose to wait until I could confront them directly. Caution was essential.

***

In the dark of night, Terhal, the capital city of Iliade, was alive with activity following the recent opening of Marik and the demon purification support initiative. As a result, even Lord Glitheon remained at his desk in the castle, tirelessly signing documents.

"Deculein's recent capabilities have been quite surprising," a voice broke the silence, which was filled only with the scratching of a fountain pen.

Glitheon nodded in agreement and said, "Yes, indeed. It is quite remarkable."

He had been aware of Deculein's practical skills due to a specific incident, but he had always believed the theories were someone else's work. After all, Deculein's theoretical contributions had ceased entirely following that person's death.

"The Symposium, huh," Glitheon said.

Whether it was a change of heart, a last-ditch effort, or newfound intelligence, Deculein announced his intention to challenge the Symposium. Solving one of the Symposium’s problems brought considerable prestige in the Magical Realm, especially the ones that had remained unsolved for fifteen years—problems six, nine, and eleven.

"Which problem does he intend to tackle?" Glitheon inquired.

"That information hasn't been disclosed yet."

"... I’m curious about his thoughts. His opposition to the Scarletborn suppression is particularly perplexing," Glitheon remarked, placing the signed document on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring into the darkness beyond the castle. With a faint smile, he continued, "He is difficult to predict. Truly a worthy scion of Yukline..."

The relationship between Yukline and Iliade was nothing short of hostile. Beyond the events of fifteen years ago, they constantly clashed over various issues, recognizing only each other as true adversaries. It was indeed a peculiar dynamic.

“... What is the status of the knight who perished at Berhert?”

“It remains on hold and is expected to stay that way indefinitely.”

Glitheon chuckled softly and said, "Who would have thought that Galak harbored such animosity toward Deculein?

"Indeed."

Though the Leoc Kingdom planned the sudden attack on Berhert, Glitheon's brother, Galak, perfected it by involving Veron. Provoking an emotionally driven man was simple. However, Deculein's unexpected victory in a confined one-on-one duel, where a mage would typically struggle against a knight two ranks lower, was unforeseen.

"Galak has always been quick-tempered," Glitheon remarked.

"Ugh, really? An entire week straight? Don’t they ever get tired of this?"

“Sigh...”

"Ouch!" Epherene exclaimed as she fell, spilling her drink all over herself. Sticky liquid clung to her hair and robe. "That hurts..."

“Sigh,” Epherene stood up, brushed herself off with a cleansing spell with a smile and said, “Of course, it’s you again,”

"Oh, she stopped. Must be mad."

Barely containing her anger, Epherene walked away. She bought a theater ticket, clutching the small piece of paper tightly. Tomorrow night at nine, she would see the play Portrait of a Sad Day. She ate alone, warned her club members not to acknowledge her in the Mage Tower, and returned to the Mage Tower before three in the afternoon.