A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 298: Ancient Demon (1)

... That night in the desert, Sophien watched Deculein and Ria's conversation through the Magical Eye, a power she had manifested using the runic language.

— ... Yuara.

Then there it was—Deculein’s voice, clear as crystal, carried across the magical stream as he spoke of his former fiancée.

— She did not die. She’s still alive.

Something in Deculein’s words struck a chord in Sophien, causing her to sit up straight with her hands tightening in her lap, sweat forming on the back of her hand, and her head feeling just a little light.

The moment Sophien’s mouth dried up without warning...

— She left me because she feared me.

Deculein’s next words sparked something even more twisted in Sophien’s chest—a feeling she couldn’t understand, let alone control.

— She must have hated me enough to pretend she was dead.

Deculein spoke as if confessing, each word cutting into himself like a blade. Sophien said nothing, only leaning back in her chair. Her long hair slipped down over the backrest like silk as she lowered her trembling eyes.

— Therefore, there’s no need for you to worry, as I do not see Yuara in someone like you.

When Deculein said those words, Sophien let out a breath, one she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Although he is the one I want more than anything, someone still walks away from him, and seeing him confess his sorrow hurts—it’s heartbreaking, Sophien thought.

It was a feeling Sophien had never once experienced, not even in the slaughter of a thousand Scarletborn, and yet now it crept into her heart like the mist rising off a still lake.

“... Hmph,” Sophien murmured, pressing her fingers to her temple as she shook her head.

Sophien looked away from Deculein for a moment, and in that breath of silence, she searched her heart where smoldering emotions burned like embers against her chest.

... And in that moment, a subtle realization slipped into her heart—unexpected, but unmistakable, like morning light breaking through mist.

“Perhaps I see it now, not all of it but enough.”

For the first time, Sophien felt like she understood—there was no need to make sense of everything.

“And as for the rest—some feelings are meant to remain undefined,” Sophien muttered.

Sometimes, it was enough to let the heart and body lead without forcing reason to follow, and that, she realized, was what it meant to feel something human.

It was such a small realization, so late, and so meaningless that Sophien could only slump back, worn down by exhaustion and emptiness. Then, as the silence deepened, she heard Ria mumbling something under her breath.

— Kim Woo-Jin. I’m Sorry.

From just beyond the chamber door, a voice slipped through, barely loud enough to catch.

Knock, knock—

The moment the knock sounded and the door creaked open, Ria looked at Sophien...

“Who is Kim Woo-Jin?” Sophien asked.

That was all it was—just curiosity.

***

“He was my former boyfriend, Your Majesty,” Ria replied.

Sophien’s brow furrowed for a moment, but looking at Ria, she could tell—those words weren’t a lie.

“... Kim Woo-Jin,” Sophien muttered. “But why were you muttering his name before you came in?”

“It seems his name slipped into my thoughts before I even noticed.”

Sophien offered no reply—only the faintest lift of her brow.

Well, there is no reason I should concern myself with the love life of a child—it is hardly anything of consequence, Sophien thought.

“Then you're already ahead of me. You’ve known love—something I never have.”

“... Oops,” Ria murmured, scratching behind her ear as if she didn't know what to say.”

I forgot for a second—Sophien has never been in a relationship and has been forever-alone in her life. Then again, how could she not be, in a world like hers? Ria thought.

"How is Deculein now?”

However, it wasn’t because Sophien was the Empress or because her class stood too high, for the danger had nothing to do with status, and it was the emotion itself.

Just liking someone was enough to ignite something too volatile—or rather, Sophien wasn’t in danger but was the danger. That truth, that setting, had never once slipped from Ria’s awareness because she knew what could trigger her.

“... He seemed okay for now, Your Majesty.”

If Sophien had ever loved someone, they would’ve been dead before it even started. Out here in this desert, the one in the most danger might not be the Scarletborn or the tribes—it might be Professor Deculein, Ria thought.

“But, what is that, Your Majesty?” Ria asked, pointing to the flowerpot sitting on Sophien’s desk.

“It’s a flowerpot given to me by the child of Malia.”

“Flowerpot... Oh.”

A flower—Sophien is trying to grow one, Ria thought.

“Thinking about it now, perhaps your words were the only ones worth hearing,” Sophien said, chuckling as she glanced at the statue on the wall. “There is not a soul in this palace who’s ever known love.”

Keiron’s never been in a relationship. He’s the perfect example of a textbook knight—stiff and completely useless in matters like this. Ahan will be here soon, but she’s no better, Sophien thought.

“In any case, I sought to raise a flower that would bloom neither through mana nor by magic. I assigned the task to the Malia tribe... and a child presented this flowerpot to me.”

The flowerpot held nothing but desert sand, and a little thorn poking out from the center.

“Is that a cactus, Your Majesty?” Ria asked.

“Indeed, but even I cannot say whether a cactus flower will ever bloom in this desert,” Sophien replied, staring at the flowerpot with thoughtful eyes. “And if it does, should the bloom prove unworthy of beauty, it must be discarded.”

“But why?” Ria asked, her eyes filled with confusion and frustration as she looked up at Sophien.

“Why ask? It’s common sense. What good is a flower if it cannot bloom with beauty?” Sophien replied, frowning.

“Your Majesty, you know what the Professor’s personality is like.”

“His personality?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ria may look a little too arrogant right now, but when it comes to relationships, she’s more of an expert than I am, Sophien thought.

“... Knowing his personality makes it all too clear. I feel like I must shape him into something beautiful. That’s why it troubles me,” Sophien replied after a moment of thought.

When Sophien brushed it off as something easy, Ria felt her frustration deepen instead.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Why do you say it is not?” Sophien asked, her eyes narrowed at Ria.

“Because.”

Today’s conversation made it clear—there’s a part of Woo-Jin inside Deculein, the man created from him with his motive. If he really were Kim Woo-Jin, he wouldn’t care if a flower was beautiful, and he’d understand it, because he’s someone who paints, Ria thought.

“Not only the prettiest flowers end up on the canvas, Your Majesty,” Ria replied.

Even if the flower wasn’t beautiful—even if its bud was tiny and plain—Woo-Jin would’ve smiled and said something kind all the same.

“You grew this yourself? Hold on—I’ll draw it for you. I mean, I can’t just say thank you and be done with it, don’t you think?"

There wasn’t a single gift I gave him that he didn’t carefully draw and return to me—one by one... That’s just how thoughtful he was... Ria thought.

“... From where I stand, it seems you don’t know Deculein,” Sophien continued. “You mentioned a canvas. Indeed, it is not only the prettiest flowers that belong there. But Deculein is the kind of professor who paints only the finest—and makes them even more beautiful.”

“You don’t really know him at all,” Ria said, letting out a snort without meaning to.

Sophien’s lips tightened, just barely, under her teeth.

Even Ria had spoken out in the heat of the moment, and the instant the words left her mouth, she froze as she realized what she’d done.

“... But that’s just how forever-alones are, Your Majesty.”

Sophien’s eyes narrowed, a twist pulling at her lips as the room seemed to tighten around her, as if her silence alone made things worse.

“But Your Majesty, giving the Professor a flower while keeping him confined may not be the result you desire,” Ria continued, changing the subject. “Perhaps we should release him first—”

“That’s already under Bell’s authority,” Sophien interrupted.

"... Sorry?" Ria muttered absentmindedly.

Releasing him under Bell’s authority? But Bell is Deculein’s biggest enemy, Ria thought.

“If you mean it’s under Bell’s authority...”

“The authority to release Deculein from house arrest has been left to Bell,” Sophien said.

“But if you took it back now...”

“I do not take back what I’ve said, and presently, I hold no small amount of resentment toward Deculein.”

If it hadn’t been Deculein, that person would’ve been executed on the spot—and their entire family brought down with them—for the high crime of colluding with the enemy.

“T-Then that’s not right! Professor will be stuck there forever—”

“Hmph. Whatever,” Sophien interrupted, scoffing as she shook her head. “Leave. After all, I am forever-alone, remember? There’s much I still must learn—about what you said, and about my own heart.”

It was a command from the Empress—not something one dared to challenge.

“No, oh, oh, come on—really. Oh...”

Ria glanced at Sophien, who was puffed up like a cartoon hero blamed for someone else’s mess, and backed out of the Empress’s chamber.

***

Outside the main building, a desert glamping party was underway, and under General Bell’s direction, confiscated specialties from the desert tribes as well as donated wine, whiskey, and meats were distributed—though only for the military faction.

“It’s delicious, wouldn’t you say~? You’re all enjoying it, yes~?” Bell said.

These days, Bell was in excellent spirits because managing border tribes in the Empire’s southern reaches and rising through the ranks in the desert felt like a dream come true.

But what filled him with the most pride was this—he had been the one who brought about Deculein’s house arrest, having outperformed Deculein of Yukline and earned the favor of the Empress. That, more than anything, made him proud.

“Yes, sir, without question, sir!”

“Haha,” Bell chuckled, slicing his steak with grace as his subordinates stood locked in perfect formation, a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

“No one ever imagined Deculein—who once could bring down a bird in flight—ending up like this,” said Bell’s subordinate, seated at his side.

“Haha, well, I see things rather differently.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“That arrogant man flew too high for too long. I always knew it was only a matter of time before he lost Her Majesty’s favor. Now, there is nowhere left for him to go but down~!”

The desert night held its breath as Bell spoke, with heads nodding and laughter ringing out beneath the desert night sky. It was a message—a warning to the rival faction still holding on to Deculein, like those stubbornly clutching a rope that had long since rotted away.

“... Besides, isn’t Deculein’s release from house arrest entirely under your authority, General Bell?”

“Exactly~ It’s as good as proof that Her Majesty trusts my abilities and intends to place that trust in my hands,” Bell replied, a crooked smile curling as he turned to his subordinate.

“Hmm?”

At that moment, the Elite Guard at the cooking station snapped his head up, his eyes wide, and Relin’s subordinate turned toward him with clear displeasure.

“What’s the matter?” said Relin’s subordinate.

“One of the Roahawks we had on the fire is no longer in sight, sir.”

“... What? The Roahawk?”

“Yes, sir. One of the larger Roahawks—we had it turning whole upon the fire...”

Could a beast have taken it? Bell thought.

The moment Relin’s subordinate started toward the Elite Guard, who was muttering...

“We’re under attack!”

A voice tore through the air—and in the next instant, the emergency siren screamed through the main building.

WAAAAAAAAAW—!

The warmth of alcohol faded in an instant as an Elite Guard on night patrol sprinted in, shouting in alarm as he approached.

“General Bell, we face a serious breach—immediate action may be required!”

“What is it!” Bell replied.

“There’s a c-corpse—General, please, come take a look!”

Without hesitation, Bell and the others took off after the Elite Guard, thinking it might be an attack by a desert tribe or the Scarletborn, and in the back of their minds, a hope arose that this might be their next great achievement.

“This is the place, sir!”

However, when they finally arrived at the scene, they were struck speechless and, in that moment, they understood that there were no words.

“... This can’t be.”

There were bodies—many across the ground—including dozens of Elite Guards who had been alive and well just last night but were now dead, just corpses—and up to that point, they could make sense of it.

However...

“What even is this...” Bell muttered.

But the state of the bodies was beyond horror—not something they could describe, but something that stopped thought altogether the moment they saw it.

“It appears to have been torn apart... devoured, perhaps,” replied one of the Elite Guard.

Torn skin and shredded muscle hung loose from bodies splayed open, guts spilling out, fragments of brain scattered across the floor, and bones crushed beyond recognition, looking less like a battlefield and more like something left behind after feeding.

“... Was this the work of a beast?”

One of the subordinates muttered under his breath—and someone answered from nearby.

“No.”

Footsteps crunched on the sand as a knight approached them. Bell turned, furrowing his brow, and then Delic—Deculein’s most trusted subordinate—appeared out of nowhere, nose wrinkling as he took in the scent.

“... It’s demonic energy.”

At the mention of demonic energy, Bell’s shoulder twitched, a silent reaction that spoke louder than words.

“Then might it be the work of a demonic beast~?” Bell asked, his eyes wide as he scanned the scene.

“It’s too dense and far too concentrated. No demonic beast leaves behind traces like these, nor is there any in this desert capable of devouring dozens of Elite Guards and going unseen. If such a demonic beast existed, we would have sensed its presence,” Delic replied, kneeling to inspect the scene more closely.

Then Delic sighed, shook his head, and muttered, “... There is but one presence this evidence could possibly point to.”

Everyone was thinking of the same name, a single presence that echoed through every mind, but not one of them dared to speak it aloud.

“A demon,” Delic added. “One far stronger than most.”

Then silence dropped over them as a chill wind swept across the desert and an electric shiver raced over their skin, raising goosebumps.

“W-Well then,” General Bell replied, running a hand along his shoulder. “Let’s not trouble Her Majesty with this~ There is no sense in alarming her over speculation—”

“We cannot do that,” Delic replied, rising to his feet and shaking his head. “These traces in the blood—they tell us the demon is still here, somewhere nearby. It has not yet fled this place.”

Nearly spitting his words, Bell barked, “Listen to me! There’s no merit in informing Her Majesty, as it would only worsen matters—”

“Are you telling me that because we have no solution, we pretend the danger doesn’t exist?”

“I’m not saying we should pretend the danger doesn’t exist! We don’t even know for certain that it’s a demon!”

“It couldn’t be clearer. The signs are right before your eyes.”

“I-It matters not—we cannot!” Bell growled, biting back his words against Delic’s certainty.

“Do you stand in the way because you must, or because you are unwilling to release Count Yukline?”

Delic hit Bell where it hurt the most. Deculein of Yukline was the only one on the continent from the house known as the demon slayers.

“General Bell, I’ve long been familiar with the renown you and your unit have earned—the strength to bring down a tiger alone and your steadfastness in holding the line against the border tribes for years. But demons follow a different order entirely,” Delic continued, his eyes moving over Bell’s subordinates.

Then Delic added, “A demon is neither a tiger nor a demonic beast. They say this desert carries an ancient legend—and if the one we face is that demon, we are no match for it.”

The ancient demon was a legend so feared that even its name could send shivers down the spine.

“However, Yukline is different. They are demon slayers of ancient origin. Their bloodline carries the power of demon annihilation, passed down through the ages.”

Bell remained silent.

“Leave it to Count Yukline, as he will accept it without hesitation.”

Bell clenched his fist tight.

“Or would you rather sacrifice the Elite Guard—those loyal subordinates who stand with you now?” Delic asked, sweeping his eyes across Bell’s men.

“Silence~!”

Whooooosh...

They could feel the desert winds blow fine grains of sand into their hair and clothes.

“We’re not informing Her Majesty of this matter~ We can handle it without Deculein’s help... Now, everyone, follow me!” Bell continued, running a hand through his hair with a growl of annoyance.

Delic stood watching Bell’s back as he led his faction away like one towing an anchor, with pity in his eyes for the man leading them.

***

... Though I was under a disciplinary sentence—one that felt more like exile than punishment—I never neglected my training and, freed from political burdens and official duties, I could finally devote myself wholly to honing my body more purely than ever before.

“They said a demon showed up last night,” Ria reported.

I opened my eyes.

“... You felt it, right?”

I gave a nod in response to Ria’s question.

“You can’t use mana, but you can still sense it, can you?” Ria asked, pointing at the cuffs on my wrists.

"By instinct, indeed," I replied.

These cuffs were designed to suppress mana circulation—and I knew their effects better than anyone.

“That cuff gotta be pretty strong, right? It even looks a little evil,” Ria said with a chuckle.

“Indeed, it’s effective. I designed that cuff myself and presented it to Her Majesty.”

“... Oh.”

Forged through Decalane’s Study of Art Magic and imbued with the Midas Touch, these cuffs were an artifact of the highest grade—powerful enough to bind even someone on Adrienne’s or Zeit’s level, at least for half a day.

“But do you think you know what kind of demon it was?”

“... This is a record of the desert’s legend. The one you’re asking about—it’s in here. The Devourer,” I said, pulling the tome from the bookshelf and handing it to Ria.

Ria remained silent.

“It’s an ancient one—older than most care to remember.”

At the mention of the Devourer, Ria’s face stiffened like a stone—as if she already knew exactly what that name meant.

“It grows stronger with every human it devours. Death cannot reach it—only ancient seals can hold it back."

“Doesn't that mean we are in trouble?” Ria asked, her words uncharacteristically serious.

“Not quite,” I replied, shaking my head.

Puffing out her cheeks, Ria said, “... But why? It does sound like we are in big trouble. I mean, if it’s an ancient demon—”

“Ria, have you forgotten who I am?”

Ria remained silent.

“Speak.”

“... Yukline,” Ria replied, her lips twitching with uncertainty, hesitating slightly as she spoke.

“Indeed, I am Yukline.” ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

The Snowflower Stone implanted in my heart, the Telekinesis magic circle inscribed into the body of an Iron Man, and the Yukline blood flowing through my veins—these were the proof that I was from the House of Yukline.

"A demon cannot defeat Yukline. However, the real problem is this."

Therefore, if a threat existed, it wouldn’t be the demon itself but those trying to use it for their own ends.

“While we’re distracted dealing with it, the Altar may take advantage and attack,” I concluded.

WAAAAAAAAAAAW—!

The siren blared at that exact moment, and Ria didn’t hesitate—she turned and looked out the window.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“... Okay, I really think the Altar has actually broken in,” Ria replied.

Pat, pat, pat, pat—!

Who would’ve thought Ria’s back would seem so reliable? Since she has the talent I’ve shaped, she’ll do just fine even if I’m not there for her, I thought.

However, the moment Ria disappeared, a hooded mage appeared in her place without warning.

Thud, thud—

I looked her straight in the eyes as she approached.

"... Well, now look at you."

My lips twitched ever so slightly as I watched her speak with deliberate arrogance—no, truth be told, a genuine irritation simmered within me, because she’d left Yulie behind and come to a place this dangerous all on her own.

“You are now locked up in a room with that cuff and everything.”

“Do you have any idea where this place even is?” I said, closing the distance toward her.

“Hmph!”

Twisting her lips into a sneer and snorting back at me, her mouth gleamed with grease as if she'd just eaten straight from a roasting pan.

“What’s so special about this place? I only came to see you locked up, Professor.”

It was Epherene.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel