A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 111: The Record of Regressions (3)

Snap—!

Deculein snapped his fingers, and darkness immediately flooded the lecture hall. In that moment, Epherene realized why this place was known as the special floor.

“Wow...”

The ceiling shifted, revealing a starry night sky, deep and clear, scattered with countless stars like a painter's canvas.

“Truly pure magic,” Deculein began, his gaze sweeping across the room, “is magic that is free from any impurities, completely untainted. Even the same spell, when utilized with purity, becomes sharper, more precise, and stronger—much like the body of an Iron Man.”

“Pfft,” someone muttered with a quiet chuckle.

Epherene glanced over and saw a mage from the Imperial Palace smirking.

"You," Deculein said, pointing at him. The mage, reclining slightly in his chair, locked eyes with Deculein. Naturally, he wouldn’t let it go. “Your name?”

“... It’s Ron,” Ron replied.

“Cast a flame.”

The Imperial mage, Ron, created a small flame at Deculein’s command. It was nothing more than a simple, ordinary spark—Ignition.

"That is a meager flame. Utterly ordinary."

Ron's eyebrow twitched at Deculein’s remark.

Deculein examined the flame closely through his Sharp Eyesight, then continued, “As it stands, it’s unrefined—merely a source of heat, nothing more than a basic campfire. Impure and coarse.”

There was nothing remarkable about it—just a basic four-stroke spell circle, at best.

“... However.”

Deculein interfered with the spell, infusing it with a fragment of his own knowledge—imbuing it with the attribute of Iron Man.

Fwoosh—!

The small flame in Ron's hand suddenly flared into a roaring fire. Heat surged through the room in an instant, drawing the awe of everyone, including Epherene. It wasn’t just a simple flame; it danced with a blend of vibrant colors, radiating a fierce, pulsing energy that filled the space.

“This is a flame of pure fire.”

The strength of magic depended on its source. The more powerful the input, the stronger the effect, and when the source was exhausted, the magic would fade. Yet, this fierce flame, glowing like a white-red gemstone, burned on without any additional energy.

“Ron,” Deculein called the Imperial Palace mage’s name once more.

"Y-yes, Professor," Ron replied, startled, as he quickly straightened his posture.

“Even a basic element like fire can transform when the caster infuses it with a specific attribute. That is the essence of true mastery,” Deculein explained.

Ron gazed at the flame resting in his hand.

Snap—!

Deculein flicked his fingers again, and countless points of starlight shimmered in the darkened air.

“The essence of an element, its pure energy—this is the foundation of what I will teach today. Observe carefully.”

With those words, Deculein began to write.

Whoooosh...

A low hum filled the room. The starlight on the 80th floor aligned with his magic, illuminating runes, spells, and magic circles in the air. Epherene hurriedly took notes, but it was impossible to capture such immense information in a small notebook. The sheer magnitude of it all was overwhelming.

“Professor, is this really a spell?” Epherene mustered the courage to ask. Deculein’s spell looked nothing like any she had ever seen before.

Deculein’s lips curled as he replied, “No. It cannot be defined as a circuit or a traditional magic circle. This is something entirely new, something that has never existed before. I intend to name this origin—Characteristic.”

At that moment, Rogerio glanced around nervously. It wasn’t just her; all the mages who had failed to bring writing instruments were now fidgeting anxiously.

“This Characteristic can be applied to any form of magic, provided it is properly adjusted.”

It resembled an attribute from a game.

Snap—!

With another flick of his fingers, a sphere of earth took shape in mid-air. Fine particles gathered, hovering like a tiny planet. Blue oceans and brown continents appeared on its surface—it was a flawless miniature replica of this world's Earth.

“Wow...” Epherene murmured, mesmerized.

But as Deculein clenched his hand, the spell faded like a mirage.

“That was merely a fragment. To truly grasp the Characteristic, we must first explore the fundamentals. And those fundamentals are rooted in theory,” Deculein said, manipulating the starlight with Telekinesis. “From this point forward, we will proceed with the main topic.”

In the darkness, his newly developed magic unfolded, line by line.

***

In the meantime, Josephine recalled the events of that morning.

“Deculein, you killed Veron,” Josephin once whispered to Deculein.

Josephine had not released Yulie’s grief. Instead, driven by an obsession teetering on the edge of madness, she pushed past her limits. She had awakened to something new.

“I know everything.”

She stretched her shadow to the base of the cliff. She searched an area spanning thousands of meters in height and tens of thousands of hectares in width, eventually recovering Veron’s body. She examined the steel that had pierced his chest.

“That is why I’m curious.”

Why would Deculein go so far as to kill Veron? What was his motive?

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“The way you presented yourself, as if Yulie’s smile was all you desired in return, didn’t feel like a lie.”

Was it because Veron, Yulie’s trusted subordinate, was in the way? Or was it overwhelming jealousy over Yulie and Veron’s relationship? No way, that’s ridiculous. I’m not that foolish.

“Veron must have tried to kill you first, didn’t he? And you hid that fact to spare Yulie from the pain, didn’t you?”

Of course, Veron, blinded by love, must have been the one to plot murder first, and Deculein only acted in self-defense, Josephine thought.

“Professor, shouldn’t you at least offer a response?” Josephine asked.

Even then, Deculein’s expression stayed unchanged. The professor upheld the dignity of a nobleman.

“... Josephine,” Deculein called.

“Yes~?” Josephine said, smiling sweetly.

Deculein looked down at her and said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be informing Yulie about this, of cour—”

“I plan to bring down the Freyhem Knights Order.”

Josephine blinked in astonishment. His words had gone far beyond anything she had anticipated.

“There are many methods. Yulie may be virtuous, but some of the knights under her command are mere commoners. I could funnel laundered money from the underworld into their hands or offer bribes—”

“How is that a favor? Do you expect me to just stand by and watch?” Josephine said.

Deculein met her gaze in silence. Josephine immediately grasped the emotion in his eyes.

“If the Knights Order falls... Yulie will come to hate me,” Deculein said.

Yet, it made even less sense to her. His feelings for Yulie had always been nothing but affection.

“... Of course, she probably would. Maybe even enough to want to kill you. But she wouldn’t follow through. She’s not that kind of person,” Josephine said.

Her words lingered in the air. Deculein’s next statement, however, took her by surprise.

“No. That will not be adequate.”

Josephine stopped in her tracks.

“You, Josephine, will assist me. I need Yulie to hate me enough to want to kill me,” Deculein said.

Josephine’s mouth fell open at his words. She had never encountered anything so absurd; it was as though he had a death wish.

“Why?” Josephine finally asked, her voice laced with innocent confusion.

Deculein responded with unwavering conviction, speaking in a single, decisive sentence.

“Because I love Yulie.”

“... Love?”

“I killed Veron out of jealousy, sought to dismantle the Knights Order to take Yulie as my own, and every change she has witnessed in me until now has been nothing but a calculated façade. ... That story should suffice. I will notify you of the timing later.”

Though his voice still lingered in her ears, Josephine slowly opened her eyes. She had returned to the present, now seated at a café near the Mage Tower.

“Hmm...” Josephine murmured, resting her chin in her hand, her gaze fixed on Yulie.

Feeling uneasy under her gaze, Yulie fidgeted slightly as she sipped from her teacup.

Josephine leaned forward and said, “Yulie~ Aren’t you curious?”

“... About what?” Yulie inquired.

“About my conversation with Professor Deculein.”

Yulie stayed silent, but her silence was more than enough of an answer.

“It’s still a secret, Yulie. But here’s some advice—don’t place too much trust in that professor.”

For the time being, Josephine had decided to follow Deculein’s plan. After all, it was for Yulie’s sake, and the rush of curiosity coursed wildly through her veins.

“Professor Deculein is still wearing a mask, hiding his true intentions—”

“Stop trying to sow discord between us,” Yulie said, narrowing her eyes.

Josephine shrugged and said, “... Fine~ You’ll learn the truth eventually. You can regret it then. Well, I’m leaving~”

“Where are you headed?”

“Hm~ The professor has asked me for quite a few favors. I might be busy soon,” Josephine replied.

Deculein had assigned Josephine the task of tracking down the demon Néscĭus, along with several other duties, and she had accepted eagerly.

Whatever it turned out to be, it seemed like it would be fun, Josephine thought.

“I’m heading off now~ Take care, Yulie~”

***

Whoooosh...

A strong gust blew across the rooftop of Yukline’s castle. Yeriel sat on the ledge beside Ganesha. Despite the heat carried by the wind, it wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it felt surprisingly soothing.

“Aaaah~ Such weather in the middle of summer? Hadecaine truly is blessed. I wouldn’t mind retiring here one day,” Ganesha said, stretching with a satisfied sigh.

Yeriel shot her a sideways glance and said, “Whatever. By the way, is it true? You caught that giant flying rat in the sky today?”

“Yes, somehow~ I hate rats more than anything in the world, you know? And this one wasn’t just huge—it was flying! Ohh Shit... So... I ended up smashing it along with the castle’s spire. Next thing I knew, I had regressed two days,” Ganesha added with a bright smile.

Yeriel frowned at her strange words and replied, “I have no idea what you're talking about... Anyway, I’ve figured everything out now.”

“Oh? Is that so? Well, good for you,” Ganesha replied with a playful chuckle.

Yeriel sighed deeply as the memory surfaced, then said, “... Ugh, forget it. It’s not worth bringing up.”

She hugged her knees and gazed into the distance. Now that she had finally come face to face with the adventure team she had been searching for, there was nothing left to say—everything had already been resolved.

“... Oh, by the way,” Yeriel continued, her lips slightly pursed, “where exactly did that girl, Ria, come from?”

Ganesha flinched but quickly replied in a calm voice, “Ria? She’s someone I met in the archipelago. A raw talent, no doubt, and now part of our family.”

“... Is that so?”

“Why take such an interest?” Ganesha asked casually, feigning indifference.

“... It’s rather fascinating,” Yeriel murmured softly.

“Fascinating? In what way?” Ganesha asked, perking up, her interest clearly piqued.

Yeriel gazed into the distant sky, as though trying to catch a memory drifting on the wind, and said, “... She reminds me of someone.”

“Reminds you of whom?”

Yeriel turned to face Ganesha, who casually flipped her pigtail hairstyle back as she asked her question.

Flutter, flutter—

Flutter, flutter—

Yeriel chuckled and asked, “Do those pigtails move on their own?”

“Yes. I even use them to hit people sometimes. But tell me, who does she remind you of?”

“Hmm... She resembles Deculein’s first fiancée. My brother’s first fiancée.”

At that moment, Ganesha’s breath caught in her throat, and a chill ran down her spine.

Yeriel idly traced her finger across the rooftop and said, “That girl, Ria, she resembles her. Quite a lot, actually.”

“You mean she reminds you of his first... fiancée?”

“Yes. Even Yulie bears a slight resemblance, but Ria? She’s almost a mirror image.”

“But Ria is still very young.”

“Her eye color and hair may be different, but I have a feeling that as she grows older, she’ll resemble her even more. I’m quite good at recognizing faces.”

“O-oh...” Ganesha murmured softly.

In that moment, she felt as though fate had played a trick on her. Had she not intervened, Ria might have ended up with Deculein. Perhaps, due to her resemblance to his fiancée, she could have lived a more privileged life.

Ganesha hesitated before quietly asking, “What was his fiancée like...?”

“I only know a little about her—mostly surface details. I remember her most clearly from the day of the engagement ceremony.”

“Oh... I see. What was the professor like at the ceremony?”

“For the first time in my life, I saw him smile like that. His face was full of genuine love,” Yeriel said, letting out a small, bitter laugh, unable to stop herself as she recalled Deculein from that day.

It was then that she realized, for the first time, that even Deculein had been capable of such a tender smile and gentle tone of voice.

“... Hmm. It seems the professor has a surprisingly sentimental side. Do you think he sees her when he looks at Ria?” Ganesha mused.

Yeriel’s face darkened, her brow furrowing deeply and said, “Are you out of your mind? Do you know the age gap? My brother isn’t that crazy of a person.”

... My brother isn’t that crazy of a person, Yeriel thought to herself again.

Just beneath the rooftop, someone had heightened her hearing to its limit, quietly eavesdropping on the conversation above. A bitter murmur slipped from her lips.

“... I’m sorry.”

It was probably because of the unnecessary detail she had insisted on including. When she found out that Deculein’s model had been modeled after Woo-Jin, jealousy had crept in, and she stubbornly added this hidden Easter egg.

“I was the one...”

The notion that the woman Deculein truly loved was Yuara, a character named after her real name, Yoo Ah-Ra, had been a desperate, foolish hope. She had wanted someone to uncover the truth behind it—a sad, childlike move, nothing more.

“... Being so petty,” Ria muttered, forcing a smile as she sniffled. “Ugh, I’m such a fucking idiot...”

She sank to the ground and started to cry. This was why... thoughts of home never did her any good.

***

After two hours of class, a ten-minute break followed. Epherene sat in a daze, her thoughts drifting aimlessly.

“... Are you feeling alright?” Professor Louina asked from beside her.

Epherene nodded and murmured softly, “Yes, but... everyone else is studying.”

From the back row, Epherene had a clear view of the entire classroom. Mages from the Mage Tower, including those of Kendall, Regallo, and Braham rank, along with Grand Prince Kreto, the Addict Astal, Imperial Palace mages, Professor Relin, and even Rogerio, were all absorbed in their studies, like examinees preparing for an exam.

“How’s it wicked unfair? Can’t somebody lend me a notebook, a pen, or even an eraser? I’ll pay ya back ten times ovah on the Floating Island!” Rogerio shouted, even arguing with someone over basic writing tools. “Hey, Lorhan! You tellin’ me ya don’t know who I am?”

“Do not speak to me! You’re going to make me forget everything!”

“What?!”

When Rogerio grabbed another mage’s robe, they shook her off roughly. It had been a startling sight to witness a mage of Ethereal rank being treated with such blatant disrespect.

“... Ay? Lumiere Lorhan? I’m Ethereal freakin' Rogerio ovah here—”

“Enough! Can we have some peace and order here?” Grand Prince Kreto commanded.

Rogerio shot him a stunned look, then let out a dry laugh and said, “Even you, Kreto—”

“Ethereal Rogerio, please do not disrupt the study environment,” Astal, the Addict, intervened calmly.

The other seven Addicts seated near him had also directed sharp looks at Rogerio.

“Well, I’m wicked sorry, but what’m I supposed to do without any writin’ tools?” Rogerio complained.

“That is your own fault. Who arrives unprepared?”

“... I didn’t freakin’ know.”

“Now please be quiet now, Ethereal Rogerio. Consider this a warning from the Floating Island.”

Rogerio had been overwhelmed, as were several other mages who, like her, had arrived unprepared for the lecture.

“Why is everyone so tense?” Epherene asked.

“... They are all Floating Island mages. With new knowledge unfolding before their eyes, it is no surprise they are like this. They are a reckless group—push them too far, and they might resort to murder,” Louina replied.

“Hmm... And you, Professor Louina? Are you not taking notes?” Epherene asked, glancing at her.

“I’ve already finished. I write quickly.”

“Oh...” Epherene murmured, her gaze drifting to Deculein’s theories, still hovering before her eyes. “But how did Professor Deculein come to grasp all of this?”

“... Who knows? Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t have much time left in his life,” Louina remarked with a hint of humor.

Epherene’s eyes widened as she asked, “Oh?”

“... What is the matter?” Louina asked.

“I have heard something like that before.”

Louina leaned in with curiosity and asked, “What have you heard?”

“... ‘As a mage ascends closer to the sky, they draw nearer to the truth,’” Epherene said, recalling something Rohakan had once told her when he kidnapped her.

Louina awkwardly cleared her throat, leaned back in her chair, and said, “I-I see. P-pure c-coincidence. I-I was just j-joking, r-really.”

At that moment, a loud crash echoed through the room as chairs and desks toppled over, accompanied by a surge of mana. Both Epherene and Louina had jumped in surprise.

“W-what is happening over there with those people?” Epherene asked, startled.

Four or five mages had begun quarreling with each other. The exact reason was unclear, though Epherene had a faint idea of what it might have been.

“Ah, you damn thief—”

As soon as one of the mages cursed and began preparing to cast a destructive spell...

“Stop.”

A cold voice sliced through the chaos.

Hush—

In an instant, everything had come to a standstill.

“Pathetic...”

Deculein arrived just as the ten-minute break ended. He gave a disdainful glare at the chaotic tangle of mages before him.

“... Every one of you, bickering over nothing, like worthless beings.”

“Meowwww~”

At that moment, a red-furred munchkin cat sprang from Kreto’s arms as the spell that had been controlling it finally broke. Yet, all eyes remained fixed on Deculein.

“Whether your stature is great or small, whether you are old or young... you are all pathetically consumed by greed, lacking even a shred of dignity,” Deculein declared, as he felt the vibration of the Message Paper tucked into his robe—a communiqué from Keiron. “Today’s lecture ends here. Mark my words—filth, corruption, or any disgrace will not be tolerated in my class.”

With that, he left the classroom. The sudden interruption left no one protesting the early dismissal.

Thud—!

As the elevator doors closed with a heavy thud, silence descended upon the 80th floor. However, the quiet lasted only a moment before the sound of pencils scratching on paper resumed. Though Deculein had already departed, his written theories still lingered.

Epherene merely blinked in confusion.

Louina gave a bitter smile and remarked, “Deculein hasn’t changed at all. I thought he might have softened over time. And to think, he once committed the most disgraceful acts. Perhaps he truly has changed after all.”

“Ha... Hahaha... Professor Louina?” Relin said, approaching cautiously and placing his notebook on the desk. “Would you be open to forming a study group so we can review everything together?”

“... Are you unable to understand it on your own?” Louina asked.

Relin shook his head with a nervous laugh and replied, “Not quite, but... it’s been a long time since I’ve come across a lecture that reignited my academic passion. As one would expect from Professor Deculein. If we study together and understand the topic, we might even manage to impress him.”

“No, thank you. To be honest, I didn’t grasp it either. I was only able to take notes,” Louina admitted.

Epherene had continued scribbling in her notebook.

Nearby, Astal picked up a crystal orb and initiated a conversation, saying, “Yes, this is Astal speaking.”

Epherene had perked up her ears while continuing to write.

“This has the potential to become a new factor of magic. I still require time to fully comprehend it, but it is extraordinary.”

Astal the Addict, typically reserved with praise, had described something as extraordinary, which piqued Epherene’s curiosity. For a brief moment, she felt a surge of baseless hope and jealousy, wondering whether this lecture was somehow connected to her father.

At that moment...

Click—!

Suddenly, a sharp click echoed as a switch was flipped. In that instant, the magic in the classroom unraveled, and all of Deculein’s notes had vanished.

“Huh?”

“Wha’ just happened—who did that?! Ya messin’ wit’ me?!”

“Wait, no!”

“Wait, what, huh?”

“Who turned it off...? Who would dare...?”

“Restore it immediately! Hurry! I wasn’t finished—”

The mages descended into chaos. No, they had fallen into a state of complete panic.