A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 121: Story (3)

Epherene faced the pop quiz head-on, relying solely on her own abilities at first. However, the calculations in the opening sentence of the first question—laden with numbers and intricate magic circuits—stretched on endlessly, overwhelming her almost immediately.

“Ughh...”

Epherene had envisioned a mana circuit in her mind, but something went wrong. Without warning, flames flared up in the air, catching her off guard.

At that moment, Grand Prince Kreto raised his hand and asked, “Professor, could you clarify what you mean by allowing us to discuss the questions?”

Deculein replied, “Just as I stated, Grand Prince. However, I will ask a few questions to confirm that you fully grasp the material.”

Kreto glanced over at Rogerio, but she was already deep in concentration. The iron-colored mana flickering in her eyes was distinct, even for someone at the Ethereal-grade—a rare and special kind of mana. As a genius in Ductility, even her aura shimmered with metallic tones.

“... Ah,” Kreto muttered, momentarily mesmerized as he stared at Rogerio.

However, Epherene quickly turned her focus back to her quiz. She started working through the long, intricate calculations, carefully transcribing the complex spells onto her magic answer sheet.

“Uh... Epherene?” a quiet voice called out to her. “How does this look?”

Epherene turned to see Drent, who cleared his throat and showed her his answer. His approach to the first question had started off like hers, but as he went on, several errors had crept in.

Epherene suggested, “Yes. Right here, see? I split these sections and worked them out separately before connecting them.”

“Oh, really? I calculated everything together.”

“That’s going to be too hard. It’s easier if you break it into parts, right?”

“... But breaking it into parts makes it harder for me.”

“I’ll show you how to do it. Look.”

"... Uh, yeah, okay," Drent replied, nodding to her suggestion.

While the two spent time collaborating on their work, suddenly...

Squeak—!

Rogerio shot up from her seat, marched over to Deculein, and put the paper down as she said, "Heah ya go."

Deculein gave the paper a quick glance and nodded with indifference, saying, "Full marks. You may move on to the next room."

At Deculein's gesture, a new passage opened, and Rogerio stepped through. The red-furred munchkin trailed after her inside.

One by one, the other students finished their work, each offering a brief comment as they left.

“I’m finished as well. These questions were excellently crafted.”

“Me too. I’m done as well. Wow, that was difficult, though I doubt I’ll get full marks.”

“I hope full marks aren’t the only way to pass this exam, right?”

Astal the Addict, Professor Louina, Professor Relin, and several others had finished next, each offering a brief remark as they handed in their papers.

However, for Epherene and Drent, as low-ranking Soldas, the quiz remained painfully difficult. They had no time to notice anyone else and instead focused entirely on solving their own problems.

"... Half the time is already up," Epherene muttered, glancing at the clock. Ninety minutes had passed, and now, Kreto had joined them as well.

“This section,” Kreto said, “appears to be the core circuit responsible for purifying mana. What are your thoughts?”

“Yes, it looks about right. Drent, how’s the calculation I asked for?” Epherene asked.

“Ah, just about finished,” Drent replied.

The three of them collaborated, splitting tasks and solving the questions. After three grueling hours, they finally neared the end.

Click—!

The sound of Deculein’s timer echoed throughout the room. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Time is up. Submit your answers."

“Oh, yes, Professor!”

The three stood side by side, their hands trembling as they submitted their papers. Even though it was just a few sheets, their hands shook with anxiety.

As Deculein reviewed their answers, the tension in the room became stifling. Sweat gathered in Epherene’s palms, and her throat constricted, feeling as though it were caught in a vise.

“Epherene,” Deculein said, lowering the paper as his gaze settled directly on her.

“Y-yes, Professor,” Epherene answered hastily.

Deculein pointed to a section of the answer and asked, “Who came up with this approach to segment and rejoin the spell?”

Segmenting and rejoining involved splitting a spell into parts for separate calculations before carefully stitching it back together. The process was as intricate as performing a surgical transplant. When executed properly, it could save a life; if not, it could result in disaster—like grafting a monkey’s arm onto a human body.

“Oh, it was... my idea,” Epherene said hesitantly. “They assisted with the calculations... and breaking down the spell, but I handled the rejoining.”

Deculein gazed down at her, his eyes cold and appraising.

... We must've made a mistake.

Drent and Kreto had already anticipated the result and let out deep sighs. However, Deculein’s following words caught them completely off guard.

"Excellent work."

It was praise they hadn’t expected. Epherene, who had lowered her head, braced for criticism. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at Deculein.

“This approach and technique will be of great use to you in the future. Continue refining it,” Deculein said in his typical dry tone. “You have all passed.”

"Yes!" Drent exclaimed instinctively, unable to contain his excitement.

“Whew...” Kreto sighed in relief.

Epherene stood motionless, her gaze locked on Deculein as confusion clouded her thoughts. No one had ever told her she had done anything excellent. Praise was foreign to her, and now Deculein, of all people, had offered it. A troubling thought settled in—perhaps this, too, was just part of his calculated effort to flatter her.

“Epherene! Let’s go!” Drent called, pulling her by the arm.

“... Huh? Oh... um... I...” Epherene mumbled, still dazed, as she followed Drent like she was in a trance.

***

The second lecture hall was reserved for those who had passed. The ground had an earthy texture, a stream ran in the distance, greenery flourished, and fireballs drifted lazily through the air.

"One hundred passed, fifty failed."

Though it had been an open-book quiz, where discussions were allowed, fifty students still failed, unable to understand even half of the questions. In just three hours, a third of the class had been disqualified.

"Those who remain have shown a grasp of the fundamentals. Now, I will assign your task," Deculein said, as he compressed the dirt beneath his feet into a spike using the basic spell, Earth’s Mold. “This is a simple application of the earth-element spell Earth’s Mold. It’s not a longsword, dagger, or axe—just a spike shaped by a basic nine-stroke spell.”

The spell Earth’s Mold allowed the user to shape earth into various weapons, which were often paired with Telekinesis or wielded directly by hand.

"Right. Ya need at least twenty strokes to make it a real weapon," Rogerio cut in, her excitement obvious, given that this was her area of expertise. "With nine strokes, ya barely get a spike. Eighteen’s a dagger, and by thirty, ya can forge a sword better than any smith in town."

“Correct,” Deculein nodded in acknowledgment of her input. "However, the essence of Pure Utilization is found in mastering the fundamentals to their extremes. Allen?"

"Yes, Professor," Allen said as he stood nearby, handing Deculein a block of mana-infused metal.

Gripping the spike formed by Earth’s Mold, Deculein said, “When magic is purely utilized, even the most basic spell can be significantly amplified, depending on the caster’s proficiency. For example...”

Using just a nine-stroke spell, the spike was small but sharp. Deculein aimed it at the mana-infused metal and, with a swift thrust, pierced through it cleanly.

Poke—!

Rogerio's eyes widened in shock.

"Even a spike like this can pierce through mana-infused metal valued at five thousand elne."

The metal block now bore a clean hole, a testament to the spike's sharpness.

Rogerio immediately reached out and said, "L-lemme give that a go!"

Deculein tossed the mana-infused metal to her, and Rogerio quickly crafted a spike using Earth's Mold. However, when she struck the metal, it merely clanged with a sharp ring, leaving no trace behind.

"No friggin' way! How'd ya do that? Ya musta used a diff'rent spell or somethin’, right?" Rogerio asked.

“I used Earth’s Mold. The type of spell, however, is irrelevant,” Deculein continued, disregarding Rogerio. “If you can pierce, shatter, or melt this metal with any spell of fourteen strokes or fewer, you will be considered to have met the requirement.”

"Fourteen strokes..." Epherene murmured, noticing that the other students appeared just as puzzled.

Fourteen strokes were an improvement over nine but still fell under basic spells. The mana-infused metal, however, was clearly meant for a knight. Priced at five thousand elne, it was likely of intermediate or higher quality.

“If you fail, you’ll be disqualified. The deadline is before the next class,” Deculein said, snapping his fingers. “Now... we will proceed with the theory lesson.”

The remaining ninety students had looked startled, while the ten Addicts among them smiled. They had thought the class had ended, but the theory portion was still to come.

***

On the 99th floor of the Mage Tower of the Imperial University, in an office the size of a stadium, the Chairwoman sat with her small puppy.

“Professor Deculein! What brings you here?!” Adrienne inquired.

I went to see her immediately after the lecture and handed her the document.

“Ohh! This must be the paper you’ve been researching! Is this the thes...is?” the Chairwoman continued, her excitement wavering as she glanced between my face and the document, repeating the motion several times before slamming her hand down on the desk.

“Aha~! This must be a dream, right?”

“No, it is not.”

“What?!” the Chairwoman gasped, covering her mouth with both hands as if completely stunned. “If this isn’t a dream... Professor Deculein! You must be in disguise?!”

I stared at her in silence. Her reaction had taken me by surprise. I had expected her to be pleased with the paper, yet instead...

Adrienne shrieked, “No answer? You must really be an impostor Deculein! You little!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why...”

Despite it being the kind of news that would usually thrill any gossip, she didn’t look the least bit pleased. Instead, a rare frown creased her brow, and confusion overshadowed any hint of joy.

“... Professor Deculein! Professor Deculein! Professor Deculein!” Adrienne called.

“Why do you keep repeating yourself?”

“Are you seriously going to submit this as it is?!” the Chairwoman asked, pointing to a specific section of the paper.

It was on the very first page, the line introducing the thesis’s first author.

“Yes,” I nodded.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she brought the document closer, practically pressing her nose against the paper. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“You're telling me this is real?!” Adrienne exclaimed, staring up at me in disbelief. “... Professor Deculein! Are you sure you want to submit this? Once it's accepted, you won’t be able to make any changes!”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Oh my god, you can’t be Deculein, can you?!” the Chairwoman exclaimed, pointing a finger at me. Suddenly, a whirlwind rose up, swirling around me with incredible force.

Whooooosh—!

Wind Erosion was a highly advanced spell meant to strip away any magic or mana-infused enchantments from its target. The fierce gusts whipped through my hair and pulled at my clothes and after five seconds, the wind died down.

“... What, precisely, are you attempting?” I asked, smoothing my hair and adjusting my coat, leveling a cold stare at the Chairwoman.

Adrienne’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stammered, “... You really are Professor Deculein?!”

"Your doubts were entirely misplaced."

The Chairwoman cleared her throat awkwardly and said, “Well then. I suppose I’ll just have to accept it... or should I, really?!

I understood why she kept asking. After all, if this had been the original Deculein, such a thing would have been unimaginable. The world would have had to break in two before he ever did something like this.

“I mean, no matter how I look at it!” the Chairwoman exclaimed, jabbing her finger at the line again. “The first author is...!”

The first author, simply put, was the owner of the thesis—the name displayed prominently on the paper, signifying the main contributor.

“Two people!”

My rank and name, Monarch Deculein, had been placed there, and beside it, equally spaced, was Solda Kagan.

“That’s so unlike you... Hmm...?” Adrienne said, tilting her head. “But hasn’t this research yet been experimentally proven?”

“Correct.”

More accurately, the experiment had not yet been completed. For the time being, my thesis remained purely theoretical. Full recognition would require practical experimentation—applying the magic itself. However, I lacked the necessary talent for that.

“It remains a theory for now, but the application of the magic will be achievable soon,” I said.

I had Epherene. In just six months, she would develop enough to understand the full depth of this thesis. The experimentation and practical application would fall under her responsibility.

“You’re right! Sometimes theories come first, and the experiments work out afterward!” the Chairwoman muttered, nodding while making odd noises.

“Well, you did name it the new Invention of Pure Elements, after all! If the theory holds up, it should be enough to receive acknowledgment! Now then, Professor Deculein, you can go! I’ll take my time going over the thesis myself!” Adrienne said, pulling out a pair of round glasses that seemed almost comically large for her face and perched them on her nose.

“I don’t like people hanging around while I’m studying! Shoo, shoo!” the Chairwoman said, waving her hands at me as if she were batting away a fly.

“Yes,” I replied, entering the elevator and descending to the first floor.

***

The night sky was already dotted with stars as I made my way toward the parking lot of the Mage Tower. A blond man, wearing a smug expression, stood leaning against the wall, his gaze locked on me.

“You’re here,” Ihelm said with a smirk. “Hey, I heard something interesting. Word is, you gave your thesis to his daughter, telling her you’d give it back if she managed to comprehend it in a month?”

I chose not to respond.

“The rumor is going around that Luna’s daughter is studying your thesis. Why did you give it to her? What will you do if she actually comprehends it?”

“... She won’t be able to in the end,” I replied.

“Aha, so you’re just leading her on? Letting her try, knowing she’ll fail?”

I shook my head, his voice still as grating as ever—arrogant, with a greasy tone that made it even harder to bear.

"You've definitely changed. You’ve never done something like it before," Ihelm remarked.

I ignored his words and continued walking.

Ihelm walked beside me and added, “Hey, Deculein. Doesn’t walking like this remind you of the old days?”

“No.”

“Still, back then—hey, hold on. You’re walking too fast!”

I quickened my pace, my long legs carrying me ahead as Ihelm struggled to keep up.

“God damn it, he’s moving that quickly,” Ihelm muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

Deculein had already pulled far ahead. He wasn’t running or power-walking, but his pace carried an almost unnatural swiftness.

“Well.”

There was no point in chasing after him. Ihelm had already said everything he wanted to and had heard all he needed in return.

"Hey, did you hear all of that?" Ihelm called, his gaze fixed on the large tree near the Mage Tower.

Epherene, who had been hiding behind the tree, flinched.

“You heard him, didn’t you, Leaf? He gave you that thesis knowing full well you wouldn’t comprehend it in time.”

“... I realized that a while ago,” Epherene said, stepping out with her arms crossed.

Ihelm smirked at her sassy attitude and said, “I didn’t think you knew. So, why were you hiding? I made sure to speak loud enough for you to catch every word.”

"I wanted to ask you something directly."

“Ask what?”

“What was the relationship between the three of you?”

"... What?" Ihelm responded, his frown growing more pronounced.

It was an honest reaction.

Epherene scoffed and pushed further, saying, "My dad, Deculein, and you. If you don’t tell me, I won’t be your witness at the hearing. Fair exchange."

Ihelm paused in silence for a moment.

“Am I wrong?” Epherene added.

Ihelm stood with his mouth half-open, clearly in disbelief.

After a moment of stillness, he sighed quietly and said, “Yes, we were friends. Deculein and I.”

“... Friends?”

Ihelm repeated the word, almost tasting it as he murmured, “Or were we friends?”

“What kind of answer is that? And my dad?” Epherene asked.

“A lackey.”

“... You son of a—”

“Ah, I’m joking! Just a joke! Hahaha!” Ihelm said, bursting into laughter as Epherene’s face was full of anger. His laughter grew so intense that he clutched his sides, tears forming in his eyes.

“Stop laughing!” Epherene shouted, stomping her foot and glaring at him.

“Alright, alright, I apologize,” Ihelm said, wiping a tear from his eye. “We were equals, more or less. But if you picture it like a pyramid, Deculein stood at the top. Your father, on the other hand... he was under Yukline’s shadow.”

“Shadow?”

"Yes, his intellect," Ihelm said, tapping his temple. "Your father relied on his intellect to gain Yukline’s favor."

Epherene paused, turning his words over in her mind. Her father had gained Yukline’s favor through his intellect... Yet the meaning felt hazy, too vague to fully understand.

Then Epherene asked, “If Deculein was so fascinated by my father’s theory—”

"Hey, do you think Deculein was the only one in Yukline?"

“Sorry?”

Ihelm gave Epherene a sly grin and said, "In Hadecaine, there's Yeriel, who is also in the Yukline family. Then there was Decalane, the Ethereal-ranked mage who died some time ago, and both of his wives were also Yukline."

“Oh... then—”

“No. Shh,” Ihelm said, raising a finger to his lips. “You’ve heard enough. Going further, and you’ll be putting your life in danger. The Yukline family is powerful, and if you continue digging, you will be killed.”

“... Professor Deculein would kill me?”

“No, the Yukline family will.”

Epherene’s gaze remained steady as it met Ihelm’s unyielding stare. He hadn’t blinked or looked away.

“Therefore, you will need to stand as my witness. If you have any evidence, make sure it is brought forward—if, of course, you really have any at all.”

“I do,” Epherene replied without hesitation.

Ihelm’s smirk faded, his expression hardening as he asked, “You do have evidence?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“... It’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Ihelm repeated, his face twisted in frustration, deep lines forming across his forehead like a dumpling. “Are you playing games with me? How am I expected to help if I don’t even know—”

“They’re letters from my father. I’ll bring them to the hearing. And we don’t need to work together—your name isn’t mentioned at all.”

Ihelm swallowed his frustration and, with a harsh sigh, raked a hand through his hair before muttering, “... So even that bastard thought less of me.”

Ihelm continued, "Setting that aside, those letters will be strong evidence, so be sure to present them properly. I’ll back you, so face them head-on. The Rewind family doesn’t bow to Yukline, so you won’t have to worry about your safety.”

With that, Ihelm turned and walked away, his figure swaying under the moonlight as if he were drunk.

“Then farewell, Leaf, daughter of Luna~”

As she watched him walk away, Epherene took a deep sigh and thought, I don’t know if I’m making the right, if it’s really the right thing to do. Maybe it’s all wrong. But... if I can make sure my father’s name is remembered in the Magical Realm, if he won’t be forgotten, if I can erase the shame he’s suffered at the Mage Tower, if I can proudly say that I am my dad’s daughter...

“... Dad,” Epherene whispered, as she pulled the thesis paper from inside her coat.

Deculein had said he would return it if she could comprehend it within a month, but that had always been impossible. From the start, he had never intended to give it back.

“But isn’t it odd?”

Therefore, if what Ihelm said is true and I really am Deculein’s Achilles’ heel... if I can actually bring him down, if I can actually cripple him at the core...

"I should feel happy. I should be over the moon, practically jumping for joy..."

A swell of emotions rose within Epherene, thick and heavy like fog, drifting upward like clouds. It left her with an odd, lingering bitterness.

Is it because of the future self that I have encountered? I don’t even remember what exactly she said anymore... I’m not happy, I’m not sad, and I don’t feel relieved. I thought I’d feel better, but there’s just a bitter taste left, like a victory that’s turned sour.

“... I need to stay strong,” Epherene whispered to herself. “I have to uncover the truth...”

Epherene's voice floated into the night, her uncertainty hanging in the cold air like a fleeting breath. It lingered for a moment, swirling gently, before the wind carried it away, dissolving into the emptiness.

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