A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 170: Secret (2) Part 2

The morning after the snowstorm passed, the advance began. Each team packed their gear, and a handful of prisoners were pressed into service as porters. It was the first step in the process of reducing the number of monsters down.

“Opening the gates!”

Grrrrrrrrk—

With a cry, the deep, grinding groan of interlocking gears reverberated through the air as Rekordak’s immense gates slowly parted. Beyond them, Yulie, Epherene, Drent, and Allen—each of the named characters—began their advance forward.

Not everyone was needed for the mission; someone had to remain behind to guard the main camp. Therefore, from halfway up the mountainside that wound around Rekordak’s right flank, I watched them depart.

Also, the Northern Region brimmed with mana, its concentration and density heightened by the endless expanse of trees that cloaked the land. It was, without a doubt, the ideal place to refine and master magical abilities.

I created a chair from the rugged mountainside and settled into it, releasing a slow, measured breath.

It was a training known as the mastery of the heart’s essence, and its purpose, for the time being, was to complete Memorize.

◆ Memorize Status:

: Intermediate Telekinesis (36%)

┏Intermediate Fire Control (22%)

┣Intermediate Fluid Manipulation (31%)

┗Metal Enhancement (99%)

My goal was clear: to fully imprint Metal Reinforcement at 99% into my telekinetic circuits. By circulating mana throughout my body, I could finalize the reinforcement pathways. Months of grueling effort had led me here, and now was the time to claim success.

The goal was to seamlessly engrave Metal Enhancement into my Telekinesis, achieving nearly perfect 99% completion. With controlled breathing, I circulated mana through every fiber of my body, its flow finalizing the threads of the Enhancement circuits. This was the moment of almost half a year’s effort—finally within reach.

With each breath drawn in and released, the circuits carved themselves deeper into my flesh, scorching veins and rending living tissue with fiery pain. Even so, there was no need to push past my limits.

After all, it was only the final 1%...?

Suddenly, black smoke swirled from the base of the ridge, stark against the pristine white landscape—a signal that the monsters had appeared. Glancing at my wristwatch, I realized that three hours had already slipped by.

“Fire the arrows!”

A sharp command echoed from nearby, but I remained composed. Taking my time, I adjusted my attire with deliberate care, resolved not to descend in haste and tarnish my dignity. With steady breaths, I settled my posture, brushing the dust from my clothing, and made my way down the slope.

“Fire!”

At the walls of Rekordak, prisoners loosed arrows under the supervision of their guards. Their targets were Frost Wolves skulking beyond the wall—wily beasts cloaked in icy crystals from head to paw. As clever as they were, these demonic canines had likely sprung their ambush the moment they caught sight of the large scale advance setting out.

Thwaaack—!

Without hesitation, I launched a shard of Wood Steel, driving it cleanly through the wolf’s throat, and it fell lifeless, without a sound, before it even touched the ground.

“Professor!” one of the guards called from the summit of the wall, his arm outstretched, guiding my attention to a point in the snowfield below.

I followed his direction and saw them—a swarm of Frost Wolves, crouched low, their growls vibrating through the air. Their sheer numbers, at least in the hundreds, stretched down the valley like an advancing avalanche.

Whoooooosh...

With a flick of my wrist, nineteen Wood Steel blades hovered around me, their edges gleaming in the pale light. I surveyed the scene, noting the wolves’ calculated movements as they sought to encircle us.

Grr—!

In the stillness of my watch, the lead wolf lunged, its jaws gaping wide in a feral rush. With precision, I drove a shard of steel into its open maw, cleaving its skull in a flawless strike. A crimson spray arced through the air as the beast crumpled lifeless to the ground.

Suddenly, another wolf emerged from the flank, but a swift curve of steel sliced cleanly through its neck. However, there were far too many to fell. Over a hundred wolves surged from the front, and among them, a few wily ones broke off, circling toward the rear with a chilling intelligence.

“How dare a mere creature...” I murmured, extending my hand toward the forest that concealed them. With a single gesture, I cast Telekinesis and Heating in unison, power rippling through the air.

Craaackle—

The coniferous forest of the Northern Region writhed under the weight of my spell, collapsing inward as it released a sound so dreadful that even the simplest of beasts would instinctively cower. It was no ordinary rumble—it was the sharp, foreboding hiss of a grenade on the brink of detonation, or perhaps the deep, volatile groan of a powder keg soaked in oil, read to ignite...

Ruuumble—

As the trees buckled inward, their surfaces splintered, and shards erupted like shrapnel from a detonation. Explosions rippled through the forest in swift, relentless waves, transforming sections of it into volleys of jagged projectiles.

Razor sharp fragments tore through the air, their deadly trajectories unerring. The wolves hidden within the treeline stood no chance—impaled by the violent barrage, their bodies lay pierced and still before instinct could even urge them to flee.

Grrrrr—!

Next, the wolves, consumed by rage at the loss of their packmates, charged at me in a wild, frenzied rush. Without hesitation, I drove a shard of Wood Steel into each of their foreheads, one after another.

Thud—!

The wolf’s skull shattered, sending fragments of bone and brain spilling out, while flesh and blood sprayed in all directions. I repelled the vile splatter with Telekinesis, keeping the mess at bay. From that moment, the Wood Steel shards came to life.

Rrrrip—! Shrrrunk—! Krrrack—!

The air was thick with the wet, visceral sound of flesh tearing as I waded through the snowfield, cutting down the charging demonic beasts with the precision of a woodsman splitting firewood.

Those who dared rush at me head on were pulverized into the ground, while those attempting to flank me met their end in a flurry of steel, their bodies torn asunder as if by the jaws of an unseen machine.

As I advanced forward...

Boom—!

A demonic mole shot up from beneath the earth, sinking its teeth into my wrist with feral intensity. The creature emerged from the depths of the underground—a domain my Wood Steel had yet to conquer.

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Craaaack—!

The mole twisted and writhed in every direction, but I gripped its torso with my gloved hand and tore it apart with brutal force. Bones shattered, and viscera spilled forth, scattering gore followed by another burst of entrails that painted the air in a grotesque spray of crimson.

I glanced calmly at my wrist, where the attribute of Iron Man had left nothing more than a superficial scratch, one that was already beginning to heal. However, the whole experience left a foul taste in my mouth—enough to make me decide to skip today’s meal.

"Professor! Allow us to assist you!"

The guards and prisoners, arming themselves with whatever weapons they could find, emerged beyond the wall. In the distance, the plains stirred with movement as demonic canines rose in waves, churning the snowstorm into a roiling tempest of shadow and frost.

Since the nineteen blades of Wood Steel at my command were far too few to counter the overwhelming numbers before me, I extended my Telekinesis without hesitation, wresting the weapons from the hands of both guards and prisoners, their grips no match for my will.

“Oh?!” the guards shouted, their confusion and alarm spilling over.

I hurled the ax with a fluid motion, its spin carving through the air like a boomerang, felling scores of wolves in a single sweep. Moments later, one of the prisoners' maces followed, repurposed with the same lethal manner.

Clang— Clang— Krrrack—!

Next, I commanded all nineteen blades of Wood Steel, along with dozens of other weapons, controlling them effortlessly with Telekinesis. The array of hovering blades transformed the air into a lethal tempest, raining death upon the pack of wolves beyond.

The prisoners and guards nearby stood frozen in speechlessness, their eyes fixed on me—or rather, the spectacle I alone had created. I tore through the wolf pack, each motion calculated and lethal. A mace arced through the air, caving in a wolf’s skull, while a spinning ax cleaved clean through their torsos, scattering blood in its wake.

“What...”

Around me, the weapons swirled like satellites in orbit, a merciless cascade of destruction. The demonic beasts caught in this lethal dance were obliterated without resistance, their bodies splintering into fragments before their fangs could strike.

“W-what are you standing around for? Take up positions—now...” one of the guards ordered, stuttering.

I was, in every sense, a force beyond the confines of this battlefield—a power that crushed the warfront beneath my will. Through the carnage I wrought, I advanced with grace, each step carving a path through the mire of shattered remains.

The Empire’s most graceful noble now turned the chaos into a masterpiece of annihilation, unraveling the battlefield with haunting precision and fluid elegance.

"Do you believe cover is necessary?"

It was no cause for astonishment, but an undeniable truth they had momentarily forgotten. The House of Yukline, stewards of demonic destruction, bore a legacy steeped in ancient traditions and indomitable power. That heritage was no fabrication, and I, Deculein, was its one and only rightful and unchallengeable heir.

“... We can’t just stand here—now, charge!” one of the guards roared, igniting the prisoners into motion as they finally rushed forward.

***

Meanwhile, at the same hour, within the serene halls of the Imperial Palace, Sophien received a response from Deculein.

"Your Majesty, a letter has arrived!" said the specially hired adventurer, taking care to ensure it passed unnoticed by the eunuchs of the Imperial Palace.

“... Hmm. A reply, is it? I distinctly said not to send one,” Sophien muttered, her expression betraying a flicker of annoyance as she held the envelope in her grasp.

True to Deculein’s nature, the letter was immaculate, exuding an air of refinement. It even bore traces of sealed mana, as if it were an artifact unto itself.

“Tsk. What grandiose flourish has he penned this time?”

Sophien pressed her lips together, a trace of expectation slipping through her meticulously crafted facade. Deculein’s mastery of the written word was legendary within the capital, his prose akin to art itself—surely, she imagined, his reply would be as refined and lyrical as poetry.

“I told him not to reply, yet he refuses to listen.”

Though her tone carried an air of feigned irritation, her movements betrayed a deliberate care. Slowly, she tore open the envelope, her fingers grazing the delicate texture of the paper as she unfolded it and skimmed the words within.

Yes, Your Majesty. I will strive to fulfill your will to the best of my abilities and with all my effort.

Sophien’s eyes flicked across the letter, its contents absorbed in the blink of an eye. Three seconds—no more—was all it took. She stared blankly for a moment, then flipped the letter over.

Perhaps there’s more on the back? Sophien thought.

There was nothing.

She flipped the page back to the front again.

Flip—

She flipped the page back to the bottom side.

Flip—

Still nothing.

Sophien tilted her head, and thought, When an Empress goes to the trouble of writing more than twenty lines in a lengthy letter, shouldn’t there be at least some semblance of effort in the reply? Did that stubborn man interpret my remark about not needing a response so literally? Not that a reply was absolutely necessary, of course...

“... Oh.”

A sudden thought struck Sophien—perhaps there was another page hidden within the letter. Leaning closer, she exhaled softly into the envelope and peered inside.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Deculein’s letter contained no more than a single line, and that caused Sophien’s fingers to tighten around the page.

“... That son of a bitch.”

She tossed the letter aside and let herself collapse onto the bed. Though matters of state loomed on the horizon, she found herself devoid of the will to confront them. An inexplicable sting of indignation settled in her mind, draining her resolve and turning the affairs of the realm into a burdensome tedium...