A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 35: Break (3)



Chapter 35: Break (3)

After we finished our meal, we all left together. It felt like we had been a group from the start. Primien, acting like an NPC from a game, seemed to think receiving the sleeping bag obligated her to escort me. She even caught a pickpocket trying to steal from me. As we walked, we stopped in front of a shabby wooden building.

“Could you just leave now?”

“Alright. I’ll just say I found this sleeping bag on my way here,” Primien replied.

"Allen, you wait outside too."

"Yes, sir!" Allen responded eagerly.

Primien left, and I made sure Allen stayed outside. I knocked on the door and stepped inside. The place smelled like an old, dusty bookstore. The creaky wooden structure seemed to barely hold together.

"May I inquire if anyone is present?" I called out, feeling slightly out of place using such formal language in this dilapidated setting. However, the owner of this place deserved the utmost respect, and I could set aside my usual Personality Trait for that.

"Hem, who is it?" wheezed a raspy, phlegm-filled voice from above. It seemed there was a second floor I hadn't noticed. Each step on the wooden stairs made the whole building shake. Soon, an old man with a strong presence descended. Despite his age, he left a powerful impression.

“I’m here to request the creation of a staff.”

“A staff?” the old man asked, putting on a pair of glasses he grabbed from a nearby table and peering at me. “Ah, Deculein. It’s you.”

I nodded in silence.

“As I mentioned before... Hmm? You've changed quite a bit, haven't you? No, it’s more than that... has your soul changed? You must have gone through something significant. The resonance of your heart and blood is much purer than before, even your speech has changed.” the old man said, raising his eyebrows, and the wrinkles on his face followed suit.

My heart skipped a beat, but I maintained my composure and replied, "I am only here to commission the creation of a staff."

The old man chuckled, nodded and said, “Very well. I’ll craft one for you this time. What kind of staff do you want?"

Apparently, Deculein had visited before. Even though I didn’t play as a mage in the game, I knew about the artisan Rockelock.

"... A standard staff will suffice," I replied.

“There are various kinds of staffs—wands, rods, and standard staffs.”

“I'll be satisfied with whatever can be crafted from this,” I said, presenting the Mana Tree.

The old man’s eyes sparkled and said, “Ah, Mana Tree. Indeed, this will suffice.”

"And I have several other materials," I added, laying out the additional materials I had purchased. They were of the highest quality, as confirmed by my Wealthy Magnate's discerning eye.

The old man’s mouth dropped open and said, “With all these materials and the Mana Tree... are you aiming to create the finest staff in the world?”

“If it could be remembered in history, that would be splendid.”

“In that case, why not add your blood to the mix?” the old man suggested. “The blood of the Yukline family is worthy material. Your lineage has a profound history in magic.”

I hesitated at his suggestion. Despite Deculein's lack of talent, I trusted the old man to filter out any negative influences.

“If you could ensure it is well filtered,” I said, rolling up my sleeve.

The old man made a quick, painless cut on my arm with a flick of his finger, collecting the blood in a beaker. His mastery of blood magic was unparalleled.

“Normally, crafting a staff doesn’t take long, but with these materials, I’ll truly put my heart into it. Give me ten days, and I’ll send it to you by courier,” Rockelock said. Noticing my concern about security, he added, “If I infuse your blood into the security magic, no one but you will be able to open it.”

“... How much will it cost, if I may ask?”

"The total cost will be five million elne, including the security magic and delivery."

Five million elne, excluding the cost of materials, was precisely what I had anticipated. Although I could already imagine Yeriel's displeased expression, I knew I could earn ten million elne from selling the vase.

"Do you accept family checks here?"

"Of course, since you're from Yukline."

I handed him the check, he chuckled and said, “You’ll have it within two weeks at the most.”

“Yes, sir. I'll head back now.”

“Farewell, hahaha,” Rockelock said with a hearty laugh.

As I bowed and left, several notifications appeared.

[Sub Quest Complete: Rockelock’s Staff]

Condition 1: Sufficient fame or infamy

Condition 2: Kind-hearted or reformed

Condition 3: Top-quality materials to pique Rockelock’s interest

Condition 4: At least two visits

◆ Store Currency +1

◆ Staff crafted by Rockelock

Unexpectedly, the quest was completed. It must have been thanks to Deculein’s previous visit, though I wasn’t sure when that had happened. Grateful and satisfied, I left the shop.

***

Meanwhile, in the office of the Freyhem Knights Order near the capital, Yulie was chatting with her relative, Reylie, who had visited after a long absence.

“I’m so busy these days, and I barely make any money. Being an adventurer really isn’t worth it. It’s just a constant drain on your finances. Honestly, I’m only doing it for the ID card. It allows unlimited overseas travel.”

“That does sound appealing,” Yulie said, smiling politely at Reylie’s grumbling.

“Grand Knight Yulie, you made the right choice not becoming an adventurer a while back.”

Haha.”

There was a time when Yulie had considered becoming an adventurer herself. In fact, under Deculein's pressure, it had once seemed like her only option. She had even thought about abandoning everything and just leaving.

“But Reylie,” Yulie said, shifting the conversation as Reylie finished speaking.

“Yes?”

“Might you have any knowledge... concerning Deculein’s former fiancée?” Yulie asked, feeling a strange irritation just bringing up the subject. She ran her fingers through her hair.

“Pardon? Why do you ask about that? And what’s with the sudden change in tone?”

Hmm? It’s nothing really... I’m just curious,” Yulie replied, her thoughts drifting to the time she had seen Deculein at his late fiancée’s gravestone. She had stumbled upon him by chance and, though she hadn’t meant to spy, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. He had been openly mourning, his tears a testament to his sorrow. “Never mind. It’s nothing important.”

“What was that about... Well, I don’t know much. She was just a noble lady. Not much was revealed about her, and I didn’t know much either. I didn’t even know they were engaged at first,” Reylie said. She was an adventurer from the Mage Tower and two years younger than Deculein. They had known each other back when Deculein’s fiancée was still alive.

“What do you mean you didn’t know?”

“I only knew she was very sick and stayed at home a lot... But why are you really asking about this?” Reylie said, looking at Yulie with suspicion, making her shudder slightly.

“It’s nothing. I was just curious.”

“You already knew they were parted by her death, though?”

“... Yes, I knew that.”

“I don’t think that’s a valid reason to end your engagement.”

“That’s not what I meant...”

Yulie sighed for no reason in particular. She found herself genuinely curious.

How much had he loved his late fiancée for someone as cold as him to still shed tears for her? Despite his lingering feelings, why had he shown such raw emotions toward me? And how, still unable to forget his old love, could he request a smile from me once a month? Was his promise to change somehow related to her? Or... did I remind him of her? Yulie thought.

“... It’s fine. I was just curious.”

Hmm. Okay?”

Knock, knock—

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and Deputy Knight Rockfell entered, unexpectedly draped in a black cloak.

“Grand Knight Yulie.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Rockfell lowered his head in silence, biting his lip for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. Finally, with a somber expression, he began to speak. As his words sank in, Yulie and Reylie's faces grew cold and tense.

***

At the same time, in the lord’s office in the capital city of Hadecaine, within the Yukline territory.

"Of course, it was idiotic of me to expect anything different," Yeriel muttered, glaring out the window. The anger that had once peaked had not yet subsided. "Why not me? Ugh, it's so annoying! Just because I gave up on magic halfway, why pick someone like Allen or Allal, whatever his name is..."

He seemed like a nobody. I couldn't understand why he picked him as an assistant professor. If he needed someone for the meeting, why not me... Yeriel thought angrily.

"Well, whatever," Yeriel muttered. After three days, she had begrudgingly come to terms with it. “It’s been over ten years since we acted like we were close siblings.”

It's crazy to think we could work together now. Honestly, I prefer it this way, with us hating each other. Deculein doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him. He’s just a bad example to me. I really do hate him. I hate him. I hate him...

Chirp— chirp—

As she silently nurtured her forced hatred, a sparrow gently landed on the window sill. Yeriel, leaning on the window, watched it. She slowly opened the window, and the bird didn’t fly away.

"Hey, come here," Yeriel said, extending her finger.

The sparrow hopped onto her finger, chirping cheerfully. She chuckled softly. Strangely, animals always liked her, even though she wasn't particularly gentle with them.

"You’re cute. Off you go now."

The sparrow seemed to understand and took off. Below its flight lay Hadecaine, its splendid cityscape stretched out beneath it.

Phew~” Yeriel said, taking a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her.

Now, this territory was truly hers. She was no longer a deputy lord but the rightful ruler. This realization filled her days with joy, made every morning feel new, and deepened her appreciation for the air and all the nature in Hadecaine.

Knock, knock—

“... Lady Yeriel,” the butler said as he entered the room.

“Yes, what is it?”

“A check has arrived for the family.”

“For what? Is it the payment from that trade deal we made?” Yeriel asked, feeling cheerful as she took the check from him.

In the next moment, her fingers twitched. She wondered if she had misread it and flipped it over to check again. It was still the same.

“... Nine million elne?”

“Yes.”

“Who spent this much money? What was this expense for?”

"It seems that Master Deculein made some purchases in Berhert."

Yeriel stood there, her mouth agape, before slapping her forehead with her palm and muttering angrily, “That fucking idiot—”

***

[Main Quest Complete: Attend Berhert]

◆ Store Currency +3

Clunk, clunk— clunk, clunk—

The slow, 70 km/h vibration of the train felt awkward, mainly because of the person sitting next to me—Bethan. Coincidentally, we ended up in the VIP car of the same express train, seated across the aisle from each other. For two hours, we sat in silence, our pride preventing us from speaking. Eventually, our eyes met as we glanced at each other.

Bethan was the first to break the silence by saying, “If this were fifteen years ago, I’d have challenged you to a duel.”

... I silently considered how fortunate it was that he didn't. I wasn't confident I could break through Bethan's barrier. Yet, my body almost reflexively responded to his taunt.

“I hope you manage to stay alive,” I replied.

Not that I had any intention of actually dueling, especially with three other heads of families and four assistants present in the same space. Preserving my dignity was crucial. Deculein’s nature often intensified depending on the audience and the situation.

“... At the next stop, let’s—”

"Don't choose a natural consequence of magic," I interrupted, noticing the magical energy rising from Bethan. I just stared at him calmly.

“Hey, hey, everyone!” Glitheon's loud applause disrupted the tension. He approached, grinning, and began massaging Bethan's and my shoulders alternately.

"Bethan, relax. You weren't even around fifteen years ago. Back then, three people died on the way to Berhert, six during the meeting, and two afterward. Of the eleven, seven were assistants, but four were family heads."

He leaned closer to Bethan and whispered, "Or do you truly believe you can defeat Deculein?"

“... What?” Bethan said, gritting his teeth, but he remained silent, wary of Glitheon’s reputation.

“If you can’t even come close to his level, you should know when to back down,” Glitheon said, patting Bethan’s shoulder.

"Bethan, your spirit of challenge has always impressed me! Isn't that the true essence of Beorad?" Glitheon laughed, his overpraise making me uncomfortable.

"Deculein, you never fail to surprise me," Glitheon muttered, his face now innocent. "You used to scold mages over trivial things, but now you're causing trouble over insignificant matters. Isn't that right?"

"You do have a tendency to talk excessively," I responded.

"... Haha, time flies. Fifteen years ago, you were young too. Look at you now."

I stayed silent. Sylvia peeked over Glitheon's shoulder, tilting her head to look in my direction.

Turning to Allen, Glitheon extended his hand and said, “Allen, right? Nice to meet you. It's not often we see an assistant professor from the Mage Tower of the University in Berhert.”

"Ah, yes, sir. It's a real honor," Allen stammered.

"Good luck to you," Glitheon said with a laugh before returning to Sylvia's side.

After that, nothing noteworthy occurred. We journeyed in silence, unbothered by threats or conversation, and eventually reached Terh Platform without any incidents.

Ahhh—” Allen stretched widely under the station lights late in the evening.

The atmosphere had grown heavier since we arrived. I scanned the area, noticing how the snow fell thick and fast at Terh Station, creating a dense curtain of white. Through the swirling snowflakes, I spotted someone watching me—it was Yulie.

She stood out in her white armor and black cloak, flanked by her knights from the knights order in matching uniforms. Our eyes met, and I walked toward her.

Crunch, crunch—

As I walked across the snowy platform, I met her wavering gaze. My footprints left a trail behind me in the snow.

Standing within arm's reach, Yulie first spoke, "I heard the news."

Her voice sounded as it always did, but steadier. Without the slightest tremor, it seemed even more tender and poignant.

“Have you?”

I thought deeply about what to say to her. Honestly, I had already organized my thoughts. I wanted to tell Yulie that her knight Veron had tried to kill me and that we had ended up fighting. At the very least, she had a right to know.

"... I heard you encountered a sudden attack."

But when I saw her face, my heart was strangely moved. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that didn’t seem to belong to me, yet I mistook it for my own. No, it truly felt like mine. A deep emotion.

"Yes, I did."

I knew her character and her beliefs. Yulie's exterior was strong, but now her inner self seemed on the verge of collapse.

“... I'm glad you're safe,” Yulie said sincerely. Before I could respond, she added, “I read in the article that you worked with Veron to save the survivors.”

I just stood there, unsure of which article she had read or what she had heard. I couldn’t speak without knowing more.

"I'm going to inspect the scene now... But before I go, I have one question."

A train approached the platform from a distance.

“What was he like?”

The deafening sound of the train stopping on the tracks filled the air. It was the train to Berhert. I chose my words carefully as I looked into her eyes.

"Well..."

I couldn’t lie to her. I said, "He was emotional."

Yulie took a deep breath, bowed her head and said, “Thank you. We must go to him now. Please get some rest.”

I watched as she turned and walked away. Snowflakes had already gathered on her slender shoulders, as if trying to weigh her down.

One of the knights following Yulie spoke, “Would you like to join us?”

Meanwhile, many other knights were watching me. They were all Yulie’s subordinates, and their stares bothered me. I could keep this secret for Yulie’s sake since Veron’s crime would ruin not just her but the entire knights order. Yulie’s rigid and inflexible nature would make her take her subordinate’s mistake as her own, causing her immense pain.

I wanted to protect Yulie, but I refused to pay respects to the man who tried to kill me. Whether it was Deculein’s sense of honor or Kim Woojin’s pride, I could never accept that.

"... If not, we will go ourselves."

When I stayed silent, they boarded the train without me. Their sideways glances irritated me.

Ha.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The way they left, those clueless, rotten minds—it was so disgusting it made me grit my teeth in anger.

Um, Professor—”

Allen started to speak, but I cut him off with a glare. I said, “Allen.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Don’t say anything.”

I was angry. Without Yulie’s presence, my anger intensified. It would be inhuman not to feel anger after what I had experienced.

“Professor,” another clear voice called out to me. I turned to see Sylvia, her head and shoulders covered in snow, as she asked, “Why did you hold back?”

She looked at me, her expression unreadable. Sylvia's voice had always been calm and steady, adding to her mysterious aura.

“What do you mean by holding back?”

Without a word, Sylvia rummaged through her bag and pulled out something, saying, “It's a token of gratitude.”

It was a book. I just stared at it.

Ah, I’ll take it instead...” Allen offered, but Sylvia didn’t hand it to him. They struggled briefly until Sylvia pushed Allen away and handed me the book.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Sylvia said, bowing her head before quickly walking away.

Just then, the express train was about to depart. I watched the dark, noisy train as it howled. My gaze met Yulie's, who was sitting by the window. My eyes widened in surprise. Yulie was smiling at me.

It was a faint, almost powerless smile, barely lifting the corners of her mouth—more like a bitter grin. She had kept her promise, smiling once a month. My heart felt strangely cleansed by this.

“Man...” I muttered, the feeling more intense than I expected. “Allen.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let's go. I need to get some rest,” I said, turning and walking away with Allen.

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