A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 301: Name (1)

Thump—!

My heart throbbed as the demon’s demonic energy, circulating through my veins, amplified all my attributes. With my Sharp Eyesight, I observed the Devourer, and in the darkness, its eyes locked onto mine, snarling and desiring my body—an ancient demon, its dark crimson eyes flickering like mist, a ferocious beast that had devoured innumerable souls over the ages.

However, the method to exterminate it proved unexpectedly straightforward, as demon annihilation was, from the outset, based on a fundamental principle encapsulated in the well-known saying—An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth…

… Up to this point, my thoughts were rational, but thereafter, I moved by instinct.

The surging demonic energy ignited loathing in my mind, and the Yukline bloodline incited me to be the quintessential Yukline mage, to the extent that even my peak mental strength, at this moment, merely served to distinguish friend from enemy—to control my hostility from turning on allies, or rather, I was deliberately refusing the purification of my mental strength.

Fwoooooosh—!

I first observed it with my Sharp Eyesight and pinpointed its coordinates before immediately releasing all the demonic energy within my body to freeze it while the Snowflower Stone’s ultra-low temperature immobilized the gaseous creature in an instant.

Then…

Cruuuuuuch—

The sound of something tearing filled the air. In the very next instant, a torrent of demonic energy flowed into my mouth—the taste of something not human… yet undeniably alive.

Crunch—!

I swallowed a portion of it, and though it thrashed within my body, I paid it no mind as it was merely a mass of demonic energy running wild, therefore I only had to digest it, and the process continued undisturbed.

Once.

Twice.

Third time.

The more I digested it, the sound lessened, and my vision darkened to absolute black, seeing naught. My thoughts disconnected, and merely rage—a fury beyond measure—burst forth savagely from the Yukline heart.

Fwoooooooooosh—!

The demonic energy swirling within my body burst outward, my chest pounded as if to shatter, and the veins of my flesh pulsed like tentacles.

… I’m sensing hunger, I thought.

This primal desire, emerging in my mind and likely belonging to the Devourer, thrashed wildly within my body, forcing thoughts upon me and instigating me to feast.

… I’m sensing hunger.

Crunch—!

The chilling sound rising from the human body was, perhaps, the massacre I had perpetrated.

“Ah… Ahhhhhhh…”

The distant scream of a terrified human barely reached my ears.

— Professor! Professor!

Simultaneously, a shout calling my name faded away from my ears.

— Professor, no, Deculein!

However, the hunger within my body persisted, and I continued to seek something to devour.

… I’m sensing hunger.

At that moment, I barely realized that this was not the Devourer’s desire, as it had already been devoured by me. It was merely the overloading demonic energy of the demon that remained was…

— … Woo-Jin.

… In a world where time had decelerated and sound had become muted, the ripple of a single word—enough to arrest my heart and make my mind reel—was clearly nothing more than an auditory hallucination…

***

… It was a moment strangely brief, likely less than a minute—the time it took for Deculein to completely devour the Devourer.

Ria silently stared at Deculein, who was now lying on the ground, the veins across his entire body glowing with a dark crimson hue, making him appear as if dead, though he was undeniably still alive.

“… Count Yukline, are you okay?” Ria asked.

There was no response from Deculein.

However…

“Ahh, Ahhhhhhhh—!”

There was only a scream from an unseen individual echoing through the air.

“… Argh! Someone, a medic, a medic!”

It was Bell who was caught in Deculein’s overload. He had lost an arm and a leg, was now gushing blood, and pleading for help. Of course, no one would assist him—not even Bell’s own subordinate, who was trying to keep his distance.

“… That man was more of a demon than any demon,” Lucy said, her face pale with a trace of dread as she watched Deculein. “A human devouring a demon.”

Deculein froze the Devourer, materializing it, then proceeded to devour it whole, in a dreamlike spectacle that was not a sweet dream but a terrifying nightmare.

“Medic, medic—!”

“Oh, seriously, he is too loud,” Ria muttered, activating Silence.

Meanwhile, Lucy looked down at Deculein, her face betraying what seemed to be contemplation.

“… Don’t even think about it. I’m gonna protect the Professor!” Ria said, spreading her arms wide, gathering her mana as she noticed Lucy’s suspicious intentions.

“My mind holds no such thoughts. I am merely curious,” Lucy replied, a chuckle escaping her lips.

“About what?”

“What was the meaning of those words that calmed Deculein? Woozing?” Lucy asked, her curiosity genuinely ignited.

Given that the South Korean name Kim Woo-Jin was rather unfamiliar in this world, Ria flinched as Lucy seemed to have understood it as a generic word rather than an actual name.

“… It’s nothing, really,” Ria replied, roughly brushing off the question before looking back at Deculein, who lay as though unconscious.

Was the ancient demon too much even for Deculein? Or perhaps, even if it wasn’t, did he have to kill the demon in an excessive way? Ria thought.

Regardless, Ria watched Deculein, and though the man seemed close to death, his face remained composed and peaceful.

When he’s sleeping like this, he looks just like Woo-Jin…

Slap—!

Ria slapped her cheeks with both hands, instantly bringing herself back to her senses.

“… Count Yukline, are you okay?” Ria asked.

Deculein isn’t Woo-Jin. His reaction to my words was likely pure coincidence.

“… Count Yukline?”

Ria, calling out Deculein’s name, reached out to touch his forehead, only to have her wrist caught.

“Ahhhhhhhh!”

Suddenly, Deculein awakened, his eyes snapping wide open.

“Y-You scared me!” Ria shouted.

***

… Within the Sanctuary of the Ages, Sophien was reading the diary.

Rustle— Rustle—

Page after page turned and piled up, each one falling into Sophien’s heart like white snow.

… Professor Deculein always prioritized me above all.

Though my own father was the architect of my undoing, the Professor shouldered that wrong as his own. He allowed me to hold my hatred for him.

To spare me further pain, he bore that burden himself.

The text contained Yulie’s earnest heart, along with details of every sacrifice and devotion Deculein had made for her sake.

I failed to comprehend the Professor. Perhaps, in knowing, I refused to acknowledge.

Therefore, my current act of self-abandonment stems from the reality that I, as a human, am steeped in sin, fault, and misunderstanding. My flight, my failure to overcome these, is entirely for the Professor’s sake.

The diary felt cold to the touch, its pages scattered with frost specks—which must have been Yulie’s tears.

When I open my eyes, I will forget all memories, yet I wish to remember this single memory.

Sophien’s crimson eyes lowered, and a soft breath escaped her red lips.

My path remains that of a knight, and I declare my lord shall be Deculein…

… Only up to this point.

Tap—

Sophien closed the diary, gently set it down, rested her hand on her chin, and quietly watched Yulie within the cylinder.

“… How I envy,” Sophien said, her only comment on the diary. “There is no denying this envy. I find it impossible not to.”

Yulie, who, unbeknownst to herself, held a love even the supreme Empress could never obtain, thereby wasted her entire life.

“… And, too, how pitiable,” Sophien continued, her grip on her blade loosening.

Clink—

The flat of the blade made contact with the cylinder and slid along it.

— Will you take no further action, Your Majesty?

Keiron asked.

“Should Yulie die, the Professor’s heart will break,” Sophien replied.

— Yes, Your Majesty, that is correct.

Sophien had never once seen Deculein in sorrow, and for that very reason, even the mere thought of it was too painful to entertain, bringing her agony.

“… Keiron,” Sophien called, placing Keiron upon the table.

The index-finger-sized statue, known as Keiron’s mini-me, stood on Yulie’s diary.

— Yes, Your Majesty.

“It is unfair,” Sophien continued, a sneer escaping her lips as she spoke, a sigh threading through her words. “Deculein risks everything to protect Yulie, holding her dearer even than me… yet I find myself concerned only for Deculein’s sorrow.”

Sophien, who had sought to kill Yulie to have Deculein, found herself fearing Deculein’s sorrow over Yulie’s death, now that she was standing here.

“It is utterly unfair.”

— No, Your Majesty.

Keiron replied, his denial resolute.

“What did you just say?” Sophien said, her eyes narrowing, for it was the first time Keiron had contradicted her so defiantly.

— It is not unfair, Your Majesty.

Before Sophien could even ask the meaning of his words, Keiron said as he lowered his head.

— Your Majesty, Deculein has already offered his life in your service.

Sophien remained silent.

— It is offered continuously without end.

Sophien merely glared at Keiron, her eyes questioning his exact meaning.

— Your Majesty, Deculein’s heart bears internal injuries. Furthermore, scars likely remain on his body—wounds even his strong constitution could not overcome.

“What—”

— Your Majesty, you are fated to kill those you love.

Words that could severely wound his lord were something an Empress’s knight would never dare speak to her, yet Keiron, on the contrary, had been waiting and waiting for this very moment.

“… Keiron.”

Keiron could not afford to miss this golden opportunity for Sophien to become her most human self, and as the Empress’s guardian, he should not have missed it.

“Do you wish to die?” Sophien said.

— Your Majesty, you were unequivocally meant to kill Deculein.

Sophien remained silent.

— In Your Majesty’s heart, love awakens the impulse to murder. You were, by your very nature, brought to life in such a way.

The evidence was in Keiron’s eyes, and Sophien, too, must have known that the Empress’s knight would never, under any circumstances, lie to the Empress.

— Therefore, Your Majesty has, on numerous occasions, sought to kill Deculein not once, nor twice, nor thrice, nor four times—but numerous times over.

Keiron looked directly into Sophien’s eyes, as if to prove that he was telling no lies.

— Nevertheless, Deculein consistently withstood Your Majesty, made no flight, and stood his ground.

Even in those moments when Sophien’s subconscious attempted to kill Deculein, and even when he was at the precipice of death due to a slight misstep, Deculein always, with dignity, found his way back to Sophien…

— Moreover, Deculein always sought Your Majesty out on nights when you were exhausted, embracing you in his arms, even as your nails threatened the very heart of his being.

Sophien, silent for a moment, suddenly brought to mind a memory—the mornings of certain days, oddly refreshing.

Then Deculein, on all those innumerable nights… Sophien muttered.

— Your Majesty, Deculein is of that mold. Though Your Majesty may belittle his dignity, impose humiliation upon him, or even attempt to kill Yulie here…

Sophien remained silent.

— Deculein has always, and only, dedicated his life to Your Majesty.

Sophien closed her eyes for a moment, as if Keiron’s words were, for some reason, drumming against her temples.

“… Does he know, then, that Deculein—that I intend to kill Yulie…?” Sophien asked, her voice hushed.

— Yes, Your Majesty.

“… You conspired with Deculein, Keiron.”

The Empress’s knight remained silent, implying it was the truth—though it was closer to a cooperative alliance for Her Majesty rather than mere conspiracy—and it nonetheless constituted a betrayal.

— Your Majesty.

Sophien clenched her teeth, and her jawline was as keen as that of a predator.

Keiron asked in a composed tone.

— Your Majesty, make your true heart known.

“… True heart?”

— Yes, the emotions Your Majesty experiences at this very moment.

Keiron’s question was imbecilic—indeed so profoundly idiotic that it defied any response—and Sophien glared at him, letting the feeling of rage swell within her mouth…

— Your Majesty, you are shedding tears now.

However, Keiron’s words brought Sophien to a pause.

Drip—

Just then, a tiny droplet tracing her cheek brought Sophien’s thoughts to a stop.

Drip—

Sophien silently watched the droplet spread as it touched the surface.

Drip—

There was no doubt whose tears these were, for they were Sophien’s.

Drip—

It was a stream of liquid expressing the sentiments of her heart in that moment.

Drip—

Like a droplet spreading on the ground, the emotion in her heart spread—a tear she had never known before.

Drip—

“… This heart within me—its language escapes my understanding,” Sophien replied to Keiron’s question, her voice trembling as she watched her own tears fall.

Sophien could not understand and could not possibly comprehend such an emotion—this damnable maelstrom that convulsed her heart.

“However, if anything is certain, it is this…”

Sophien turned her eyes to Yulie inside the cylinder, observing the knight deep in sleep as she rewound her time, with Sophien’s own living blade sword neatly placed upon her—the very blade she had brought to kill her.

“… That the Professor should know no sorrow.”

Sophien had no way of understanding her own heart.

“I wish for him to be happy.”

An Empress, by very definition, is supposed to be a being who commands every possession… a being for whom naught is unobtainable… Sophien thought.

“Should the heart of that love lie elsewhere than with me… that is well.”

Sophien found herself bewildered by her own words—that it was acceptable even if she could not have someone she loved—and precisely because of this bewilderment, she smiled with a clear sense of relief.

“Indeed, were the Professor to know his happiness… I would feel no regret, even if I were to drown in this very emotion.”

Is this love? Can love be naught but a wish for the beloved’s happiness? Is it acceptable for me to be absent from his happiness?

“That—is my true heart…” Sophien concluded.

At that moment, a pain rushed through Sophien’s mind, a torment that seemed to shake her skull and rip apart her brain, yet somehow it was a pain like liberation, which Sophien welcomed along with the new emotions flowing into her amid a tiny confusion.

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