A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Future of Each Individual (1)

Not far from the capital’s city center lay a prime piece of land, complete with a lake, streams, and even a mountain in the background. The Yukline mansion sprawled across it, vast—almost excessively so. With the recent surge in land prices, the mansion alone could have easily funded a small territory’s annual budget. This was no mere exaggeration.

Even Yulie, who had taken pride in purchasing a three-story mansion near the capital on her own, thoroughly enjoyed her time at the Yukline mansion. Her morning jogs included a few laps around the mountain at the back, the training grounds were spacious enough for worry-free practice, and the mansion’s meals rivaled those of a three-star restaurant.

While Deculein upheld strict standards for the mansion’s vast grounds, I was indifferent to what the servants did, as long as everything remained orderly. Consequently, I often approved their requests for imported goods.

The servants, ever watchful, discovered exotic pottery, tableware, coffee beans, foods, flower seeds, and carpets from distant lands and had them brought to the mansion under the Yukline name.

Thanks to their efforts, the gardens and orchards bloomed with the world’s most beautiful flowers and trees, the mansion overflowed with charm and fragrance, and the clear lake and streams became the perfect summer retreat. Yulie had a particular fondness for the lake, often lying on the lawn with her new pet, Cacao, when she wasn’t inside the house.

This place, with its luxurious comfort and unassuming abundance, drew people in effortlessly. Anyone who visited, even for a short while, couldn’t help but admire it—a paradise so alluring it was almost like a Venus flytrap. This was the Yukline mansion.

“Basic physical strength was the foundation of martial arts,” Yulie said as we stood in the mansion’s training grounds.

Instead of her usual armor, she wore a gray tracksuit for a change.

"Therefore... Is something the matter, Professor?" Yulie asked, tilting her head slightly.

I shrugged and said, "It’s rare to see you out of armor, and this is what you’ve chosen to wear?"

“Ah, I see,” Yulie replied, tugging at her outfit. “I’ve had this since my days with the knights. It’s well-made, crafted with Fumeren. It will easily last another twenty years.”

“Indeed. One day, I should tear it apart and dispose of it.”

“No! Why would you tear it?” Yulie protested, quickly returning to the main topic as she gripped a wooden sword. “As I was saying, basic physical strength is crucial in martial arts. First, let me demonstrate. This is the simplest spinning move.”

With a swift motion, she slashed twice—first diagonally across the front, then pivoted to strike behind her. The movement was so seamless it appeared as if she were in two places at once.

“A spinning move, also known as a Spin-mooove.”

“Spin-move.”

“Spin-mo~oove.”

“... Spin-move.”

“Hmm. Though it’s a basic move among knights, it places significant strain on the waist and knees,” Yulie explained as she handed me the wooden sword. “Without proper physical conditioning and muscle strength, the risk of injury is high.”

I took the sword and repeated the motion.

Swish—swish!

It felt exactly like how Yulie had done it. She blinked, a brief moment of confusion passing over her face.

After a pause, she spoke again, “Try it once more.”

Swish—swish!

I repeated the move exactly as before. Yulie’s expression flickered with confusion once again.

Yulie glanced at the curriculum script she had left under the tree and said, “You seem to be performing it well... Please, try it one last time.”

I performed the spin-mo~oove once more, exactly as she had asked.

When I noticed the third flicker of confusion in her eyes, I finally said, “You must admit it—I’m capable of this.”

“... You may replicate the move, but you are at significant risk of injury.”

“I will not sustain any injuries.”

“You may believe that, but the risk of injury remains high.”

“Must you echo yourself?”

“That is why developing basic physical strength is essential,” Yulie said, her forehead beaded with sweat. She likely assumed I was as frail as any other mage and intended to start with the fundamentals. “Today, we will begin with running. Are you prepared?”

“Yes.”

“Alright! Let us proceed,” Yulie said, starting to run. I followed closely behind.

One-Two, One-Two—

Yulie set a steady pace, and I kept a few steps behind, matching her stride.

One-Two, One-Two—

One-Two, One-Two—

Yulie glanced back at me and remarked, “You are maintaining the pace well.”

“Indeed.”

“Excellent. Continue at this pace!”

We kept running. I wasn’t certain how my stamina measured up to that of a knight, but the Iron Man attribute was highly advanced, and I had not neglected my training...

“Are you maintaining the pace?” Yulie asked, glancing back.

“Yes.”

“Hmm, very well. I shall increase the pace slightly.”

“Go ahead.”

Impressed by how well I was keeping up, Yulie increased her pace, as if determined to outdistance me.

One-Two, One-Two— One-Two, One-Two—

One-Two, One-Two— One-Two, One-Two—

We had completed nearly ten laps before I even realized it.

“... Professor, are you still holding up well?”

“Indeed.”

“Oh...” Yulie murmured, clearly astonished that I was still maintaining the pace.

I noticed that the basic stamina from my Iron Man attribute had significantly improved, likely because my quality of mana had advanced to level four.

“Shall we stop for now?” Yulie inquired.

“No. I am fine,” I replied.

“... Alright.”

We resumed running, now at nearly full sprint. I soon lost count of the laps we had finished. Glancing at Yulie, I saw she was sweating and looked strained. It became clear that, with a heart injury, the greatest challenge lies in basic endurance, particularly cardiovascular stamina. I chose to stop running.

“Let’s stop here. I’m feeling fatigued,” I said.

“... Are you certain?” Yulie asked, forcing a bitter smile as her expression darkened. She appeared dissatisfied with her own condition. “Your basic stamina is impressive, Professor. You must have been diligent in your training.”

I watched her in silence. In that moment, with sweat glistening on her skin, she looked even more beautiful.

“... Yulie, you are a knight, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Yulie replied, tilting her head slightly at my obvious statement.

I offered a slight smile and said, “I aspired to be someone who could stand as your equal. That is why I worked so diligently.”

“... Ah,” Yulie murmured, her mouth snapping shut as she stood there, momentarily speechless.

Though she remained quiet, her hair seemed to lift, and a blush crept across her ears. The sight was very endearing.

“I was merely joking. I did it to survive.”

“... Y-yes. I understand.”

Though it was true—I had trained to survive—Yulie’s cheeks were already flushed, her face touched with a rosy glow.

“Let us go and eat.”

“Okay...”

I entered the dining room first, and Yulie trailed behind me, her steps hesitant.

The chef detailed the morning’s offerings, saying, “Today’s breakfast features shrimp—”

Yulie cast frequent glances my way throughout the meal.

“Dessert is served,” a servant announced after breakfast, bringing out Civet coffee.

Yulie’s eyes brightened as she took in the sight of the high-quality beans.

“Oh, thank you so much, as always~!” Yulie said, sipping slowly and savoring each taste.

A smile tugged at my lips as I watched her.

“Yulie, it is time to prepare. There is a lesson at the Imperial Palace today.”

“Yes, understood.”

It was time for her to resume her escort duties. Yulie’s expression hardened, embodying the fierce focus of a lioness.

***

In the grand hall of the Imperial Palace, the Empress's Council Meeting gathered—a particularly tiresome tradition. Sophien sat on her throne, looking down at the ministers, her hands heavy with the petitions they had submitted.

“Your Majesty, we are concerned about the potential issues that may arise from opening Marik. It would be prudent to reconsider the decision while there is still time.”

“The handling of the Scarletborn is timely, Your Majesty, and for now, our attention should be solely directed toward them.”

“Your Majesty, suppressing the Scarletborn will inevitably provoke resistance, and should chaos erupt in Marik, the Empire will face turmoil both within and beyond its borders—”

Sophien’s head pounded. She was sick to death of listening to those damned fools. The frustration was so overwhelming that she felt she might commit suicide on the spot.

“The decision to open Marik is final. I will hear no further discussion on the matter,” Sophien commanded.

“That is unacceptable, Your Majesty!” the ministers cried out in unison, making a vein throb on Sophien’s forehead.

They went on about how the late Emperor would never have dismissed the petitions of his ministers so easily... that if adventurers recklessly disturbed Marik, demons might arise... and so forth. Their words ran together in a senseless ramble.

At that moment, Keiron stepped forward and whispered, “Your Majesty, Deculein has arrived.”

As soon as she heard this, a sly smile spread across Sophien’s face, and she commanded, “Enough! It is time for my lesson. Be gone at once!”

“That is unacceptable, Your Majesty! No final decision has been made—”

“It is time for my lesson in the Runic language. Are you not all aware of what Deculein is teaching me?”

The Runic language was Sophien’s ultimate weapon. On the days of her lessons, the ministers did not dare to interfere.

“Or are you suggesting that I squander this invaluable lesson time? Can you bear the consequences? We are discussing the Runic language. Do you even grasp its significance?” Sophien said, her voice cold and commanding, cutting through the room and silencing the ministers. Satisfied, she rose from her seat. “I am leaving. This council is adjourned.”

“You have arrived,” the Empress said, her voice laced with authority. In the Imperial Palace’s Hall of Learning, she welcomed Deculein with a rare smile.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Deculein replied.

“Today, I endured a truly fucked-up meeting. It was one of those damned traditional Empress’s Council Meeting that I couldn’t avoid. Those bastard ministers kept prying into everything, seizing on my every word. It was utterly nauseating.”

“I understand. Now, let us begin the lesson. Today’s Runic word is ??????,” Deculein said as he took his seat, his tone steady. The Empress’s gaze sharpened like an axe. “Repeat after me, ??????.” _{fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com}

“Be.”

“Not Be, but ??????.”

Sophien rested her chin on her hand, sighing through clenched teeth, her gaze fixed on him, unmistakably filled with ennui.

“??????,” Deculein repeated.

“... Yet, Deculein, you never inquire about my policies, do you?” Sophien remarked.

“Your Majesty.”

“All you ever do is prattle on about that damn Runic language.”

Worn out by the ministers’ relentless pestering, Sophien lost interest in the lesson. Noticing this, Deculein focused on her words instead.

“The ministers were eager to know why I decided to open Marik. They would have opposed it regardless, yet they hypocritically welcomed the crackdown on the Scarletborn...” Sophien paused, her gaze dull as she turned to Deculein. “What is your assessment of my policy, Deculein? Why do you think they oppose the opening of Marik?”

“Hmph. Is that so? It seems you’re not so different after all,” Sophien said, leaning back in her chair, disappointment evident, but Deculein pressed on with a measured tone.

“... Oh? It seems you know me all too well.”

“Heh,” Sophien chuckled.