A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72: End of Semester (2)

The counseling room was silent. Sylvia seemed to be crying, but she made no sound. I watched her quietly. The untouched teacups sat as the ice inside them melted and clinked softly. The sunlight streaming through the window gradually shifted.

"I do not like to see people cry," I said.

At that moment, she lifted her head. Her eyes were moist, but no tears fell, just as she said.

"I was moved by your praise," Sylvia explained. "Professor Deculein, you are known for never complimenting anyone."

Her voice and expression remained unchanged as she made her excuses. I took a handkerchief from my pocket.

"But you praised me, thank you."

"Dry your eyes," I instructed, handing her the handkerchief.

Sylvia took it with both hands, her eyes sparkling like watery jewels. Just then, twenty minutes of counseling had passed.

"I'll be going now," Sylvia said, glancing at the clock.

She stood up, neatly folded the handkerchief, and slipped it into her pocket. After giving a polite bow, she left the room.

As I watched her small frame retreat, I said, "Remember my advice."

Sylvia paused at my words. Without turning around, she nodded and walked away. Outside, I could hear Allen’s voice.

"Have a good day!"

The office door opened and then closed.

"... Does she underestimate herself?" I mused aloud.

Sylvia was a brilliant mage. She could have easily been appointed a full-time professor next year. Spending time under another professor would have been a clear waste, not just for her, but for the entire world. But Epherene was different. She was perfectly suited for the magic I have been researching, and she could grow even more under my guidance.

"Professor," Allen called from outside the counseling room, poking his head in. "Debutant Epherene is scheduled in ten minutes! Please take a rest until then!"

***

Epherene, always seen in her blue robe symbolizing a Debutant and carrying a large backpack she had bought for thirty elne, walked down the hall. Since value for money was her top priority, from a distance, it looked like she was carrying a large brick.

Today, the backpack felt especially heavy, clinking with every step. A small cat figurine attached to the bottom of her bag brushed against the back of her robe.

"Ow, my shoulders hurt," Epherene murmured.

When she reached the elevator, she set her bag down to rest for a moment.

Ding—

The elevator quickly reached the first floor, and Epherene was startled as she picked up her bag. Inside stood Sylvia. Though it wasn’t unusual to see another Debutant, the atmosphere was tense. Sylvia glared at Epherene with a cold, piercing gaze filled with silent, simmering anger.

Epherene hesitated and asked, "What is it now? What's your problem?" _{frёeweɓηovel.coɱ}

Epherene half-expected Sylvia to launch into one of her usual ways of calling her. Instead, Sylvia brushed past her and muttered, "Nepotism."

“... What does she mean by that? Nepotism?” Epherene muttered, feeling uneasy.

Her horoscope had already warned of a rough week, and Sylvia’s attitude wasn’t helping. Maybe it was time for another tarot reading. Pressing the button for the 77th floor, Epherene muttered to herself, trying to shake off the unease.

Ding—

She reached Deculein's office.

"Welcome, Debutant Epherene," Allen said cheerfully.

"Yes," Epherene replied, as she followed him into the counseling room.

Inside, Professor Deculein sat with his eyes closed, seemingly meditating. Epherene hesitated, unsure if she should interrupt. Deculein was an imposing figure, too distant and formidable to approach casually.

"Professor, Debutant Epherene has arrived," Allen announced.

Deculein opened his eyes, nodded slightly at Epherene, and said, "Sit."

"Yes, sir," Epherene said, sitting down and immediately taking off her backpack. She spoke with determination. "I’m here for career counseling, but I also have questions about the Solda promotion exam."

"Solda?"

"Yes, sir," Epherene confirmed, pulling documents from her bag. She had prepared extensively for the exam since the end of the first semester. Placing the papers on the desk, she explained, "These documents show my participation in various departmental classes."

This was her eighth attempt to find a professor willing to recommend her for the Solda exam. Initially, she had approached newly appointed professors, but their recommendations carried little weight. Professors like Relin had only belittled her, offering nothing but harsh words before dismissing her.

"Here, I have evidence of my involvement in the Common Magic Research Club, where we identified the precursor to the Baron of Ashes incident, as well as other community service activities," Epherene continued confidently, her tone reminiscent of a child reciting in a debate competition.

Her enthusiasm masked the anxiety and nervousness she felt in front of the imposing Professor Deculein.

"My grades are all A+ as of the midterms, and if I maintain them until the final exams," Epherene added, neatly stacking her documents on the desk. "Additionally, at the Mage Tower—"

"That's enough," Deculein interrupted, having listened in silence. Epherene froze. "Take these back."

Her expression hardened, and she bit her lower lip slightly before responding, "But I’ve checked all the requirements for the Solda exam. If you could just review them—"

"There’s no need," Deculein interrupted.

"... Oh, yes, sir," Epherene replied softly, her breath trembling slightly. She wasn’t entirely surprised; she had expected this to some extent. She began to pack her documents back into her bag.

"If you maintain your grades through the final exams, you will automatically qualify for the Solda rank."

"... Excuse me?" Epherene asked, her eyes widening in surprise, her face lighting up like a child's.

"If you place in the top three overall, there will be no reason for me not to recommend you for the exam," Deculein clarified.

"Oh, thank you, Professor. I will do my best," Epherene said, scratching the back of her neck.

"... If I pass the exam, I will apply to join you, Professor," she added quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Deculein replied indifferently, "I won't prevent you. The burden of effort is yours to bear."

"Yes, sir," Epherene replied, hiding a smile.

Epherene thought that Deculein was playing with fire by accepting her. She wondered if he would remain composed when she surpassed him effortlessly in a year or two. On the Floating Island, Epherene recognized Deculein as a genius driven by effort, yet her spirit of challenge remained as strong as ever.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now,” Epherene said, preparing to leave.

"Wait," Deculein commanded, his voice stopping her in her tracks.

Epherene's heart raced as she wondered if he had sensed her thoughts or noticed something amiss.

"You haven’t used the check yet," Deculein said.

Epherene was taken aback. She wondered aloud, "Would you take it back if I don't use it...?"

"That won’t be the case. It was a reward on behalf of the Mage Tower, not from me personally."

"Oh... Actually, I haven’t found anything I want yet, so I’m saving it for when I really need it. Like insurance," Epherene explained.

Deculein nodded silently, indicating she could leave. Epherene gave a slight bow and exited the room.

"Have a good day, Debutant Epherene," Allen called out cheerfully.

"You too, Assistant Professor," Epherene replied.

Epherene closed the office door behind her and leaned against the wall outside, letting out a deep breath.

"... That was intense," Epherene sighed, muttering to herself.

Deculein’s presence was overwhelming, making every minute feel like an hour and pressing down on her with an invisible weight that kept her heart pounding.

"I can't figure out what he's thinking."

Deculein's motives were inscrutable. He had undeniably claimed her father's achievements, which drove her father to a disgraceful suicide at thirty, branded a failed Solda-ranked mage.

At the Hadecaine Educational Retreat, Epherene had directly questioned Deculein about the incident, but he neither confirmed nor denied it. A clear denial would have been more satisfying.

"Maybe he's trying to say it’s all up to me."

Still, Deculein was the least concerned with class of students among the professors at the Mage Tower. He treated Epherene fairly, despite her vow to expose his flaws.

"I’d better get back to studying," Epherene muttered, hefting her heavy backpack as she walked away.

***

Leaders, politicians, and entrepreneurs across the continent often claim there are no dreams, no hope, and no life in the Ashes, insisting that it is filled with nothing but ash.

Arlos knew that was nonsense. Life existed in the Ashes. There was hope, and there were children. Although it wasn't an ideal place to raise kids, it didn't mean Arlos had any particular affection for the area.

By nature, she was highly ambitious. As an orphan from a border kingdom, achieving success in the broader world seemed impossible. So, she had settled for the Ashes as the next best option.

Arlos, known unofficially as the best puppeteer on the continent, had her puppets scattered throughout the Empire. Connected to her soul, they behaved like living beings, yet none resembled her true form. This was due to her complex about her appearance. She was too beautiful, attracting countless unwanted admirers.

“Welcome,” the hotel staff greeted.

Today, however, Arlos visited the Black Crain Hotel in her true form for the first time in a while. The Black Crain, a newly established prime-grade hotel in the capital, had some of the highest rates in the city. Despite the cost, it perfectly suited Arlos, who often found everyday life filled with inconveniences.

“I have a reservation,” Arlos stated.

“Yes, Miss Sollette. Your reservation is confirmed,” the staff responded.

The staff at the hotel treated customers like nobility, which Arlos particularly appreciated. Though many people fawned over her, genuine aristocratic treatment was rare and hard to come by unless one was actually a noble. Despite appearances, Arlos cared about such formalities, though she rarely showed it outwardly.

"Here is your key for the 37th floor," the staff member said.

Arlos had booked the 37th floor under the alias Sollette. While the top floor was the penthouse on the 50th, she hadn't yet accrued enough status or points to reserve it.

"I'll have the foie gras with a side of Laperin for dinner," Arlos requested.

“Yes, ma’am,” the staff replied.

Haileich Relic Auction

“... Ugh.”

Fortunately, the pain lasted only a moment, but the bloodstains on my desk were irritating. Using Telekinesis, I gathered the blood droplets and burned them at a high temperature.

Knock, knock—

“Sniff, sniff— sniff, sniff—”