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A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 229: To Everyday Life (1)
Chapter 229: To Everyday Life (1)
... Sophien, the regressor, was born into greatness. From the moment of her first breath, she bore the blood of the Empire’s true sovereign line—its firstborn, its rightful heir. Hers was a legitimacy so absolute, so unshakable, that even in the long history of the Empire, few could match it.
However, for all the perfection of her sovereign reign, nothing within it gave her life true meaning, as she lived a paradox—shadowed by death, yet forever denied its end.
Even the notion of dying one day seemed like a distant myth, and she began to wonder if the quiet grace of a natural death would ever be hers. The final page of life—where even Empires must submit—seemed a distant thought, one that might never turn for her.
If, after growing old and finally reaching her natural death, Sophien were to once more return to the first of January—if death refused to take hold and time merely circled back upon itself—such a life would seem destined to never really end. Perhaps the better truth was that it could never end at all.
While others lived in quiet fear of a distant death they could only imagine, Sophien reflected on a world where death never came—where her end did not exist. Instead, she bore the weight of a fate that looped forever, trapped in the cycle of dying, only to live again.
Therefore, Sophien craved ennui. If she learned at a slower pace, allowed her thoughts to wander, and viewed the world through a lens of lethargy—then maybe, just maybe, she could forget that unending loop for a while. Perhaps she could step outside of it, even if only for a breath.
... However, someone had broken that defense mechanism of hers. From the moment she met him, the instructor mage, through the changing seasons and into the present, he had always pressed her to learn. He demanded she face the world. He encouraged her to learn, to feel. And instead of lethargy, he taught her something else entirely.
At first, Sophien welcomed it with curiosity—he was merely something new, something strange. But as time passed, he rooted himself deeper in her heart, like a thorn lodged in a place she couldn’t reach.
Because of him, she experienced pain. Because of him, she laughed, grew angry, and dreamed. For the first time, she imagined a future not lived alone. And that, above all else, felt unfamiliar.
“... Hmm.”
Chirp, chirp— Chirp, chirp—
Morning had broken, and birdsong drifted through the quiet air. In that still moment, Sophien looked at Deculein without saying a word.
“... It seems he’s sleeping,” Ahan said, her eyes following Sophien’s glance to Deculein.
“So it seems,” Sophien replied.
Deculein was asleep. Of course, he was neither slumped nor collapsed, but standing upright beyond the private chamber doors of the Imperial Palace—silent and still, like a knight on watch.
"He entered the Imperial Palace unannounced... only to fall asleep as if nothing had happened. And this is the man who claimed he'd seen my death in the future?"
“Yes, Your Majesty. For the Professor, it was quite unlike him to speak in such unsettling words...”
A smile tugged at Sophien’s lips, and her disbelief was quiet.
“What would Your Majesty have us do?” Ahan asked.
“Well,” Sophien muttered, tapping her finger to her chin. “For now, consider this his punishment.”
Sophien reached out and poked Deculein’s cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up.
“Your Majesty, do take care. The Professor won’t be pleased.”
“... Let him be displeased; it’s not as if he can do anything about it.”
Ahan looked up at Sophien with silent admiration—the only person in the world who could speak to Professor Deculein like that and mean every word.
“However... once should be enough,” Sophien added, pulling her finger back.
Even an Empress must approach certain subjects with caution; instead, Sophien merely looked at the sleeping Deculein in silence.
“... Ahan.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Suddenly, Sophien remembered Rohakan’s prophecy—how she would one day fall in love with Deculein, only to take his life with her own hands. The one person who could give meaning to her existence, she was destined to destroy.
"I, perhaps, would... for this Professor—"
“N-no, that’s not it! I swear, it’s urgent! Please—wait—ah! Agh! Let me through! Aghhh! Agh! Aghh!”
Sophien remained silent.
“Agh! Aghhh! Aghhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“... What in the world is this madness?”
Just as a sudden scream rang out from beneath the bedchamber steps, Sophien’s brow creased in annoyance—at that moment, Deculein woke, his eyes slowly opening.
“You’re finally awake, Professor. Nothing happened, so you needn’t—”
“Aghhhhh! Let go of me! I said, let goooooo—!”
Another shriek echoed through the silence.
“... That must be Epherene,” Deculein muttered as he listened to the chaotic screaming , his breath sounding more like a sigh.
“Epherene? You mean your protégé?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It seems something has happened to her,” Deculein replied, as if he hadn’t just been asleep.
Outwardly, he appeared flawless, as if not a single moment of sleep had passed.
"Then go and see her."
"No, Your Majesty. You are still in danger—"
"Aren’t you hilarious? If there had been any danger, I’d be dead by now while you were fast asleep."
Then, Deculein clenched his jaw in silence, masking the sting behind a calm exterior.
“So, even you know how to be embarrassed,” Sophien said with a laugh.
“... Ahem,” Deculein murmured, masking his discomfort behind a faint cough.
***
In the prison beneath the Imperial Palace, I stood before the bars and frowned at the sight of Epherene locked inside.
“Hehe.”
And yet, there she was—smiling like a fool behind the bars, as if nothing were wrong, like a puppy wagging its tail.
“Speak,” I said.
"Professor! I'm really back—back in the present! I looked at the calendar and nearly jumped. It’s February!"
I glanced at her wrist and saw a bracelet—once broken, now clumsily bound with a strip of tape.
“How did this happen?” Epherene asked, shaking the bars with a smile.
“That so-called god must’ve withdrawn its hand. With its schemes already laid bare, any further interference would only risk losing a crucial piece from its board.”
“So, does that mean they’ve surrendered? Is it really over?”
"No," I replied, my eyes falling to the pocket watch resting at her waist.
“Hmm? What is that?”
"Her Majesty’s authority still remains with you, and the ninth of April has yet to come. If your regression is indeed unending, then that presents a problem of its own."
The strain of overcoming regression had taken a heavy toll. Even by an Iron Man’s measure, the persistent headache and exhaustion hung on to me, buried deep in my bones.
"Oh... Then, I’m still not out of danger, am I?"
"No, you're not in danger. If anything, you're safer than anyone else alive," I replied, shaking my head at Epherene’s concern.
"Really? Why’s that?" Epherene asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You will only be in danger when Her Majesty dies. But as she lives now, so will your safety.”
“But I still don’t understand why.”
"Because with your death, the authority will pass back to Her Majesty."
“... Oh!”
That was the nature of the authority—what had once slipped from Sophien’s control had found its way to Epherene. But if Epherene were to die, it would return to Sophien, just the same.
"Therefore, the Altar will never kill you. Even if you begged for death and laid your life bare, they’d only turn their blades on those who dared to try."
"Umm... I guess that's a good thing?"
Of course, there's always a chance of her being kidnapped, but as long as she’s still breathing, it won't be too difficult to deal with. Epherene isn't that easy to take anyway, I thought.
“What will you do now, Professor?” Epherene asked.
“I must step into the central politics,” I replied.
“Politics?”
“Yes. I remember each name you placed in my hands.”
Those on the list who supported the Altar or moved in its shadows—I would hunt them down to the last. If guilt bound them, so be it; but if it didn’t, I would forge their wrongdoings myself. None would escape.
“Alright. Then I’ll tear through the Mage Tower with everything I’ve learned these past two years,” Epherene said, glancing around the empty cell and motioning for me to come closer. “Professor, just for a moment...”
"Stop delaying and just say it from there," I replied.
“Oh, come on... It’s a secret, though. The truth is...”
Gulp—
“Assistant Professor Allen is alive,” Epherene whispered, the words slipping out like classified information.
I remained silent.
“It is shocking news, isn’t it?” Epherene added. “I wasn’t going to say anything—I felt like it wasn’t my place to share, since it was Assistant Professor Allen’s privacy, after all. But, ah!”
Creeeeak—
At that moment, the iron door of the underground prison creaked open, and Epherene clamped both hands over her mouth.
“Oh, Professor, I beg your pardon!” Delic said, stepping into the underground prison.
Delic, accompanied by several of his knights, offered a formal salute before shooting a glare toward the prison cell so intense it could’ve cut metal—his eyes brimming with outrage.
“This is unforgivable! Which fool of a knight dared to lock the Professor’s protégé in this place? If you allow me, I’ll find the bastard and make sure he regrets—”
"That won’t be necessary. She did cause a disturbance, after all."
“Knight Delic!” Epherene called out from behind the bars, beaming as she waved. “It’s been a while!”
“... Umm,” Delic muttered, his brow furrowing with hesitant confusion.
“Oh, right. We’re not exactly close anymore,” Epherene said, flinching as the words left her lips.
"Umm... Let me open the cell for you."
“... Yes, sir.”
Delic stepped forward, turned the key, and the prison door groaned open.
“Let go of everything that came before,” I whispered, watching the bitter shadow pass across Epherene’s face.
Epherene remained silent.
“And, Delic,” I called.
“Yes, sir!” Delic replied, offering a formal salute as he turned toward me.
"Soon, two personal escort knights will be appointed to serve Her Majesty the Empress alone."
"Pardon me? Oh, yes, sir. I understand.”
“And you will be my first recommendation.”
Delic froze, his eyes going wide and his mouth slightly open, and for a moment, it seemed as if time itself had stopped—or perhaps it was just his breath that hesitated.
"Congratulations. If it’s from the Lead Elite Guard, it’s as good as a done deal, isn’t it?" Epherene said with a smile, giving his shoulder a light tap.
Perhaps that was the cue, as Delic finally moved and turned to me with his eyes glistening.
“Professor...”
“Then keep up the good work. From this moment, your loyalty belongs to Her Majesty. And never forget—Yukline stands behind you,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“... Yes, sir! My loyalty lies with Her Majesty... and with you as well, Professor... What are you all waiting for? Salute Professor—now!”
“Oh, yes, sir!”
One by one, the knights who had once been as stiff as Delic raised their hands in a belated salute. I gave them a brief nod, then turned and walked away with Epherene at my side.
***
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On a quiet spring morning, the lake behind the Imperial Palace...
Plop—
Sophien cast her line into the lake, as she had many times before—only this time, she wasn’t alone. In the distance, Deculein and Epherene were seated at another fishing spot, while nearby, Knight Delic stood guard, his eyes scanning the lakeside with silent vigilance.
“Ahan,” Sophien called.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ahan replied as she was preparing the fish Sophien had caught.
“As the Professor said, it seems the curse has indeed disappeared from my body.”
"Is that so, Your Majesty?"
The authority of regression no longer resided within Sophien.
"I find myself entirely unburdened."
"I am glad to hear that, Your Majesty."
"And yet," Sophien said, the corners of her lips tugging into a curve that resembled a scoff, though the feeling was genuine. "Some part of me already knew this day would come."
... Tap.
Ahan paused in the middle of her slice and looked up at Sophien.
“Ahan. I’ve been given a prophecy,” Sophien said.
“A prophecy... Your Majesty?” Ahan asked.
“Yes. That one day, in the near future, I would come to kill Deculein.”
Blub, blub—!
The line tugged, rippling the surface of the lake—but Sophien simply watched, her eyes focused on the quiet bubble of the water.
"Your Majesty need not place your faith in such a prophecy—”
"I have no choice but to believe it, because it is a prophecy that came from Rohakan himself."
Ahan remained silent.
“However, I do not wish to kill the Professor,” Sophien continued, resting her chin upon her hand with a faint smile. “Which leaves me with one last choice... If I genuinely wish not to kill him, then perhaps the only way is to remove myself instead. If I quietly follow the Altar’s plan, maybe then the prophecy will never come to pass.”
Sophien believed that if Rohakan’s prophecy could be broken, death would become her deliverance.
“... And if such thoughts have taken root in myself now, wouldn’t they have once arisen within my past self as well?”
"Your Majesty! Please—don't speak such things..." Ahan said as she dropped to her knees, bowing low, her voice trembling with barely restrained tears.
“Hmph. It’s only a thought, nothing more,” Sophien replied, shaking her head. “I could never overcome regression the way Deculein does. My mental strength is nowhere near as strong as that man’s over there.”
The power of regression no longer belonged to Sophien. However, she could not leave it in Epherene’s hands—not when it was a curse, a chain of fate that only she was meant to bear.
“... Should Your Majesty pass from this world... the Empire would not survive it.”
“No, my judgment has never failed me. With Deculein alone, the Empire may survive. And who’s to say?”
Twaaaang—!
Sophien raised her rod, and a sudden splash rippled across the lake as a fish broke the surface—an Arangfin. One of the species Deculein had once named for her.
“Ultimately, it may be that I am the monster whose death the world quietly awaits.”
At that moment...
Splash—!
A loud splash broke across the lake as if a boulder had fallen from the sky. Sophien turned toward the sound.
"A-Arghh! Help! I’m drowning—please, help me!" Epherene cried. "It's too deep here—P-Professor! It's too deep!"
It seemed Epherene had fallen into the lake while fishing, but Deculein remained indifferent, his attention entirely focused on his line, as if the world beyond the ripples did not exist.
"Glub—gah! Professor—hey! Hey, Deculein! Gah—blub—!"
Delic arrived just in time to pull Epherene from the water. Drenched, Epherene gripped his back, gasping for breath. Meanwhile, Deculein—arms heavy with his morning catch—moved casually toward Sophien, as if nothing had happened.
No doubt, he’s coming to boast about his catch, Sophien thought.
“... So this is what everyday life is like,” Sophien muttered, feeling a sense of contentment. “I’ve never known it until now.”
“Yes, it is, Your Majesty,” Ahan replied with a smile.
“Ten for me,” Deculein said, holding out his basket as he approached through the dappled sunlight and gentle breeze. “And how fares Your Majesty’s catch?”
As I had expected.
The Professor, every bit as intensely competitive as his unpredictable temperament, insisted on turning every fishing trip into a competition. It was his way of keeping Sophien from falling back into her familiar lethargy.
"Six. You win this time, you damn Professor."
“Congratulations, Professor.”
Sophien and Ahan shared a smile, each one born of a different meaning.
***
Sizzle, sizzle— Sizzle, sizzle—
The sun sizzled in a cloudless sky, and the morning air thickened with heat. It was the first day of the new university term.
“How many first days is this now?” Epherene muttered with a sigh, sitting on a bench in the university courtyard, eating her ice cream.
The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and the campus teemed with couples whose sweetness stung the eyes. A vague sense of discomfort still lingered in a corner of her heart, but all things considered, the peace of the moment was enough.
“Epherene?”
At that moment, a voice called out to Epherene, followed by the measured rhythm of approaching footsteps.
“Oh~ Miss Yeriel!”
It was Yeriel—Deculein’s younger sister and the businesswoman behind the Yukline name.
“Here, take it. Best while it’s still warm,” Yeriel said.
“Okay! Thank you!” Epherene replied.
The food Yeriel handed to Epherene was the latest culinary marvel—a waffle, a recently invented delicacy from the House of Yukline.
With its unusual, patterned texture and a generous crown of fresh cream, it was the kind of dessert that couldn’t be bought even with money—unless one had the patience to wait through the long queues. A rare indulgence in every sense.
"Mmm... it's so goooood."
The moment she took a bite, the crisp sweetness danced across her tongue, and for the first time in her life, Epherene felt as though her mind was melting into bliss.
"This... Who in the world came up with such a delicacy?" Epherene asked.
"I have no idea. I just found it buried somewhere in my brother’s mess of old notebooks and scraps."
“Scraps?”
"Mm-hmm. If you check the study, you’ll find all sorts of strange sketches and prototypes—things my brother scribbled down, who knows when or why. I just take whatever looks promising and turn them into marketable ideas."
“Aha... That is really interesting.”
Professor of magic, a dessert inventor, an Elite Guard to the Empress—how could one man be so unbelievably exceptional? Epherene thought.
“Nom,” Epherene murmured as she took another bite.
“Are you heading to class soon?” Yeriel asked, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“... Sorry?” Epherene muttered, blinking as if something about Yeriel’s words didn’t sit quite right.
Yeriel chuckled in response.
“What do you mean... me too?” Epherene asked.
“What? I’m a student here too, you know. I haven’t dropped out or been expelled, so what’s the issue? Do you have a problem with that?” Yeriel replied.
“No, no! It’s not that—I don’t have a problem with that...”
“Hmm. I’m just here to pick up some general knowledge—business and economics, mostly. Of course, nothing beats learning in the field, but it doesn’t hurt to know the theory too.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Epherene said as she took another bite of her waffle. “Oh, by the way—I’m planning to enter the upcoming magic tournament.”
“Magic tournament?”
“Yes. It’s a tournament where teams of mages come together to manifest grand magic, medium grand magic, and the like.”
Before the regression, I barely had time to breathe with my thesis hanging over me. But now? I've got more time than I know what to do with. So I’ll dive headlong into every extracurricular out there and throw myself into academic conferences until I can’t take another bite, Epherene thought.
“Hmm... is that so? Then I suppose my brother could take the role as a supervisor for the tournament,” Yeriel replied.
“Sorry? There is no way...” Epherene said, shaking her head just as a cherry blossom petal came to rest atop her head. “Professor? He would be far too busy for something like that.”
“You should ask him. If it’s you, he might just do it for you. And honestly, wouldn’t my brother be a better choice than that Relin guy?”
“That may be true. But having someone supervise the tournament sounds like more trouble than it's worth. And honestly... if the Professor took charge, he’d probably push us past our limits...”
~
... Ten minutes later, on the 77th floor of the Mage Tower, within the Head Professor’s private office.
“I will supervise the tournament myself,” Deculein said.
“... Oh?” Epherene murmured.
Epherene’s eyes hesitated as she looked up at her professor, her throat dry, her mouth filled with a nervous taste, and her heart drumming for reasons she couldn’t quite name.
“I’ve heard you’ll be competing in the magic tournament,” Deculein said as his pen swept across the documents before him.
“Oh~ Well, yes, but if you’re busy, I wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t make it—”
Thud—!
Before Epherene could even finish saying it was fine, Deculein had already stamped the application for the magic tournament. Epherene stared at him, stunned, her mouth slightly open. Without so much as a pause, he slid the paper back to her and said...
“However, I will accept nothing less than first place.”