A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 95: Lokralen (1)

The wanted criminal Brolin, whose real name was Karixel, was apprehended alongside another fugitive, Deuhal.

Despite the outrage expressed by the eunuchs, including Jolang, Deculein’s decision was upheld, and the trial moved forward without delay. Karixel, Deuhal, and over a thousand others were sentenced to imprisonment in the Roharlak Concentration Camp. Deputy Director Lillia Primien raised no objections.

"Move faster, you vermin!"

“Hurry up! You, old man in the front! Do you have a death wish?”

Roharlak sweltered under a brutal 113-degree Fahrenheit heatwave. From the cool interior of her air-conditioned car, Yeriel observed the thousand Scarletborn detainees, bound and led away under the unforgiving sun.

“We’ve yet to establish contact with the Red Garnet Adventure Team,” the butler reported, but Yeriel barely noticed. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts.

“However... the items have been prepared, Lady Yeriel.”

As Yeriel grappled with her internal conflict, her servants acted decisively. They had suggested the most extreme and efficient means to end the deadlock—if war was unavoidable, a quick preemptive strike would be the most effective strategy.

“I made it clear—if he breaks that promise, I won’t forgive him,” Yeriel murmured coldly.

The butler, still focused on the road, bowed his head slightly and replied, “Yes, Lady Yeriel, that is correct.”

“But... It's not time yet. Keep searching, even if it means scouring the Underworld. I need solid information. We have to make contact with Ganesha.”

“Yes, I will mobilize the underground guilds.”

Yeriel had established an underground guild to counter the nobles who aimed to weaken Yukline. Ironically, that very guild was now investigating Deculein, the head of the Yukline family.

"... Do it quietly. Make sure those damn eunuchs don’t get wind of it."

“Of course, Lady Yeriel.”

"Good. Thank you," Yeriel responded weakly, turning her gaze out the window.

"Quit your whining, you damned demons!"

"Move it!"

“Worthless fucking vermin bastards...”

The thousand Scarletborn detainees, with their cores shattered and heads shaved, resembled empty husks. They endured the relentless, unforgiving heat as they were confined to their cells.

If Deculein’s intentions were genuine and he planned to betray her, Yeriel resolved that she would not be brought down as easily as they had been. She clenched her fists, solidifying her determination.

***

The moonlight cast a hazy veil over the capital, enveloping the night in a somber and cold atmosphere, as if time itself had frozen. I sat in the library of my mansion, surrounded by volumes of books—Curses and Pharmacology, On Immunity, The Compendium of Herbs, Zhlen’s Medical Dictionary, Advanced Herbal Combinations...

Pharmacology had become a routine for me. I explored every possible method to heal Yulie, acquiring and devouring nearly every book and paper on the subject. As a result...

[Pharmacology Knowledge Level: Advanced (37%)]

This was the extent of my knowledge, verified by Sharp Eyesight. It was astonishing. Despite my relentless efforts, my Telekinesis had barely reached the intermediate level after more than six months, yet in just a few months of studying pharmacology, I had already attained an advanced level.

"It seems the more knowledge you gain, the more aware you become..." I murmured with a sigh.

The deeper my understanding of pharmacology grew, the more I had to confront the harsh truth. With each piece of knowledge I gained, the weight of my helplessness became more apparent. Yulie's wounds, the scars left by Deculein, were beyond the reach of conventional healing.

But there was one way—a method far from ordinary, one that involved exploiting the triggers of the game.

"Yulie, even if it means you'll end up despising me,"

Then I would distance myself from her. More specifically, I would take on the role of the villain in her life. Yulie was like a flower destined to bloom by conquering the trial that was Deculein. As long as she regarded me as her enemy, she would overcome any wound and rise to greatness.

"... If doing so,"

I gazed up at the distant sky. The Villain’s Fate attribute seemed like the perfect name for Deculein. He was destined to love Yulie, but to be with the one he loved, he had to ensure she despised him.

"Could save you," I murmured, placing a hand over my chest, feeling the steady thrum of my heart.

A strange sensation settled in my chest, a dull ache I hadn’t felt since taking on Deculein’s role. It felt as though my heart was pounding, each beat accompanied by a sharp pain. Maybe it was just the result of the character’s programming, or perhaps, without realizing it, I had truly come to love Yulie. I placed the book down and unlocked the hidden door to the annex.

The sharp scent and cool air enveloped me as I stepped into the herbal room, a space I had meticulously renovated using Ductility. Outfitted with every conceivable magical technology, from temperature control barriers to the rarest herbs, it held nearly every remedy known to man. And yet, despite all its contents, none of it could heal Yulie.

Knock, knock—

A knock resounded through the room.

"Professor, it is time for your training," a servant informed me.

Dawn had arrived, almost unnoticed.

I stepped outside the annex, greeted by Yulie's warm smile.

She handed me the wooden sword, saying, "Here you go, the wooden sword."

"Very well," I replied, taking hold of the wooden sword with a practiced hand. Our morning training consisted of sparring with swords.

"Extending your sword in a straight line will always leave you exposed. Make sure your strikes follow a curved path."

Clack-clack—!

I followed Yulie's guidance, swinging the sword, and the dull thud of wood striking wood echoed around us.

"Excellent! As always, Professor, you pick this up quickly," Yulie said.

“I believe I may already surpass you in skill.”

“Now, now! Be sure to stay humble!”

My movements were brisk, and my steps felt light. The sweat trickling down my face brought a refreshing sensation.

Clap, clap, clap—

Then, suddenly, we heard the sound of applause. We lowered our swords and turned to see two visitors watching us as the sun began to rise.

“Hahaha. Impressive! Deculein, your skills rival those of any seasoned knight!” Zeit said, approaching with a hearty laugh. Behind him stood Josephine, smiling as she observed us. “It’s good to see you and Yulie getting along so well. I’ve found a few wedding venues—one of them is especially grand. How about we visit it together?”

Josephine, a woman who could prove useful to me, drew my attention. She returned my gaze with a gentle smile, but Yulie quickly positioned herself between us.

“What has caught your eye so intently?” Yulie asked, her lips forming a slight pout.

***

Ten days before the semester began, Epherene, Allen, and Drent were in the assistant’s research lab, inspecting their travel bags.

"Towels, toothbrushes, clothes, emergency rations—have you packed everything?" Allen inquired.

"Yes," they both answered.

The three of them had been invited to accompany Professor Deculein to the Lokralen Academic Conference.

Yawning after another sleepless night, Epherene asked, “Assistant Professor Allen, what exactly makes Lokralen so special?”

Epherene didn’t fully understand what Lokralen entailed, but she knew it was a prestigious opportunity that could significantly advance a mage’s career.

Allen smiled and replied, "Ah~ Lokralen is a place where timelines intersect."

"Timelines?"

"Yes~," Allen responded, rummaging through his robe pocket before pulling out a travel brochure. "Lokralen is a magical space that formed naturally about ten years ago after a meteor collision and a massive surge of mana. You’re familiar with the concept of a magical space, aren’t you?"

"Of course. I’m a Solda, after all. The Imperial Palace Garden is also a magical space," Epherene replied.

The Imperial Palace Garden, where all four seasons coexisted, was the most renowned magical space—a testament to its enduring mystery.

"Exactly~" Allen continued. "Lokralen is another magical space, where the past and future intertwine. The past three years are certain, but as for the future, it’s around ten years... though the specifics remain unknown."

"Wow, that’s amazing."

"Yes, but be careful!" Allen cautioned, raising a warning finger. "It’s an extraordinary magical space, but it's also infested with monsters—and many who enter end up becoming monsters themselves. It’s classified as a Vermilion-level danger zone."

Vermilion-level. A shiver of fear ran through Epherene. The danger levels were ranked in order—Black, Red, and then Vermilion.

"... But why would they hold a conference in such a dangerous place?"

"The conference has only been held for a few years—about three. Mages discovered ways to harness the space."

Since Lokralen had only recently emerged as a magical space, its mysteries remained vivid.

"The conference takes place just once a year, on a specific date, giving us a rare opportunity to tap into future knowledge."

"... Ah!" Epherene exclaimed, as both she and Drent’s eyes widened in realization.

"Yes~ Though the area is teeming with monsters and fraught with danger, the value of holding the conference there outweighs the risks. However, removing any materials from Lokralen is strictly forbidden, as doing so will result in transforming into a monster."

"Transforming into a monster?"

“Uh...” Allen hesitated, flipping through the travel brochure until he found the page he needed. A bright smile appeared on his face as he continued, “If anything is taken from Lokralen, it becomes contaminated by the distorted mana of twisted timelines. The world’s resistance will immediately take hold. What kind of monster you’ll transform into—no one can predict.”

"Hmm~ I see. I get it now."

“Very well, let’s be on our way,” Allen said, stepping outside with Epherene and Drent.

Just then, Deculein stepped out of his office.

When Allen noticed Deculein, he quickly approached and said, "You look exceptionally splendid today, Professor!"

Deculein's appearance was immaculate, his attire more perfect than ever, adorned with equipment crafted by the Midas Touch.

"Let’s move out," Deculein commanded.

Deculein's preparedness hinted at a certain level of tension, and rightfully so. This main quest, The Lokralen Academic Conference, would finally herald the arrival of the Archmage of the Celestial Realm, a being far beyond the reach of ordinary mages.

***

Rattle-rattle—

Rattle-rattle—

The VIP compartment of the train rocked smoothly.

Lokralen was a magical space that formed in the southeastern corner of the Leoc Kingdom after a meteor impact.

Originally owned by the Leoc Imperial Family, Lokralen's rights were eventually sold to the Floating Island for a sum of one billion elne. After the purchase, a dedicated branch was set up to continue research, culminating in the establishment of the Lokralen Academic Conference in the Continental Year 955.

“... Hmm,” Drent nodded, engrossed in the pamphlet he was reading, while Epherene lay sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep, and Allen was absorbed in knitting. It was a calm, peaceful moment.

I, on the other hand, was lost in thought, pondering the progression of the quest. Yulie’s situation lingered in the back of my mind, along with a number of other pressing concerns, but for now, concentrating on the main quest before me seemed the most practical approach.

[Main Quest: The Eccentric Lokralen Conference]

◆ Store Currency +1

◆ Mana Point +50

I couldn’t be sure which Archmage would show up at this conference. The hints I’d picked up from the company and the scenario were vague at best.

Screeeech—

The train's speed slowed with a screech, signaling our approach to the destination. I began packing my things, and Allen quickly tucked his knitting tools into his robe pocket.

Drent woke Epherene and said, “Epherene, we’re here.”

“Ah, yes, yes. Let’s go.”

Clunk—!

The train jolted to a stop, and we all stepped onto the platform together. Lokralen's people were there to greet us immediately.

“We welcome you, Professor Deculein. Traveling to Lokralen by horseback will be more convenient,” one of them said, presenting us with four horses.

I nodded, though Epherene and Allen appeared a bit uneasy, likely unaccustomed to horseback riding.

"We’ll split into pairs, Drent," I said.

“Yes, Professor,” Drent said.

As a noble’s son, he was skilled at horseback riding and mounted his horse with ease. Allen followed reluctantly, settling behind him, while Epherene’s face twisted with unease.

“So, am I to ride with...?”

I mounted the horse, and when Epherene hesitated, I used Telekinesis to place her on the saddle behind me.

“Aaaah!”

"Let's move out."

“Yes, Professor. Hyah!”

Clip-clop— Clip-clop—

Clip-clop— Clip-clop—

The horses sped along the rough, unpaved road. Epherene, who had been swaying unsteadily and murmuring complaints, eventually latched onto my back for support.

“Oh, ow, woaaaah.”

“Quiet down.”

“Woaaaaaah...”

After roughly an hour of riding, we arrived at the entrance to Lokralen.

“I feel sick... Assistant Professor Allen, how are you holding up?” Epherene asked.

“No, not particularly... I’ve never ridden a horse before either,” Allen replied.

I left Allen and Epherene groaning behind me as I looked up at Lokralen. It was less of a space and more of a structure—a vast dome that loomed overhead.

"Your invitation ticket, please," said two robed mages standing guard at the entrance.

I handed my invitation to the robed mages.

“Thank you. You may proceed after leaving your horses here.”

“Will do,” I said, entering the passageway as they opened the doors for us.

“... Hm?”

The interior of Lokralen was strikingly unique. The dome's ceiling appeared to be made of transparent glass, offering a clear view of the outside world—the sunlight and sky visible even from within.

“This place is surprisingly ordinary, aside from the ceiling,” Drent observed with a hint of amazement.

He was right; Lokralen resembled a well-established town, complete with a central conference building, a hotel, shops, and residential areas.

“Wow...”

As Drent walked ahead, he nodded politely to a passerby and said, “Ah, hello, sir—ugh!”

Drent suddenly collapsed. I halted and turned to him. Epherene and Allen, startled, hurried over and began shaking him frantically.

“Drent! W-what happened? Drent!”

“Mr. Drent, w-why did this happen? P-professor, what’s going on?!”

They both turned to me at the same time, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The system was functioning exactly as I’d been told, and it was somewhat amusing to see it in action.

"He must have spoken to someone from the past or the future."

“... Sorry?” Allen asked.

“Communicating across timelines demands an enormous amount of mana. Without enough, that’s the consequence.”

In the game, speaking to the people of Lokralen was known to drain significant amounts of mana.

“Let’s move. Epherene, carry him.”

“Sorry? Me?”

“Or should I?”

Epherene reluctantly lifted Drent onto her back, and with the added weight, we made our way to the Lokrun, the hotel reserved for the conference.

“Ugh... why is he so heavy... ughhh...” Epherene groaned under Drent’s weight as we finally reached the hotel’s front desk.

On the desk lay several badges, each marked with the number 958 instead of a name.

Allen tilted his head slightly and asked, “Professor, what does this signify?”

“This signifies the year 958 of the Continental Calendar. Pin it to your chest.”

“Ah~ So we should only speak with those who wear the 958 badge, right, Professor?”

I shook my head and replied, “You can’t be sure. Someone from another timeline could be wearing the 958 badge as well.”

“Ah... I suppose there could be some who would try to deceive us!”

After we pinned the badges to our chests, the hotel staff handed us the keys without saying a word, likely indicating they weren’t from 958. I used Telekinesis to retrieve the key marked 801.

“Let’s move.”

“Yes, Professor.”

"P-professor, he's too heavy for me..."

"Bear with it."

We took the elevator, with Epherene still carrying Drent. Room 801 occupied half the floor, and Epherene wasted no time in setting Drent down.

“Phew, I thought my shoulder was about to give out...”

— Attention, esteemed guests. The 958 Academic Conference is scheduled to commence at 6 p.m. today. All participants bearing the Year 958 badge are kindly requested to make their way to the conference building. This message will be repeated...

The announcement echoed through the room. I checked my watch, and Epherene did the same. It was already 5 p.m.

“Less than an hour remaining?” Epherene inquired.

“Get ready.”

***

Leaving the unconscious Drent behind, the group reached the main building of the Lokralen Academic Conference.

“Professor Deculein,” a mage wearing a badge marked with 958 approached him. “There are specific instructions for you before the conference begins. Please follow me. The other two may wait here.”

He led Deculein away, leaving Epherene and Allen to watch his retreating figure in silence.

"Assistant Professor Allen, what should we do now?" Epherene asked.

“Well... I suppose I’ll wait here for the professor," Allen responded.

Despite her best efforts to remain calm, Epherene was far from composed. As she looked around, her gaze fell on a sign, Underground Archives.

"Would it be alright for me to visit the archives briefly?"

"Yes, of course~ But please be sure not to speak with anyone or remove any items!" Allen warned.

"Of course~" Epherene responded with a cheerful smile before making her way down to the archives.

She found no one guarding the entrance and promptly started her search.

"Wow. This is incredible. They even have documents from the next year."

She marveled at the shelves, filled primarily with papers instead of books, many of which were dated 959 or 960, from the future. Epherene skimmed through them in amazement.

"... Ugh."

After reading just a few lines, she felt her mana being sapped away, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of fatigue. She gripped the bookshelf for support.

"What was that...?"

"Acquiring knowledge from the future requires extraordinary mana. Even an Archmage might find it difficult, depending on the content," a voice said unexpectedly.

Epherene flinched and spun around. A woman in a robe stood behind her, conspicuously without a name tag. Feigning indifference, Epherene carefully placed the thesis back on the shelf.

"Hmm~ Trying to ignore me, are you?"

The woman approached with light, quick steps, as if gliding through the air—and impressive technique that sued a touch of mana at her toes to propel herself forward.

She was impressed but showed no sign of it, murmuring to herself, "I wonder how many people will be at the conference~"

"Only 33 attendees each year. They can each bring three companions, making a total of 132 people. We keep the numbers low to prevent timeline disruptions. Naturally, the 500 Lokralen Addicts who live here permanently aren’t included," the woman responded to Epherene's pretend soliloquy.

"Hmm... I wonder if one of those 132 people is standing right next to me~?"

"Who knows?"

Epherene was taken aback when the woman spoke to her, realizing that nothing unusual had happened. This could only mean she was from the year 958. The shock nearly caused Epherene to faint as she noticed the woman’s eyes, peeking out from beneath her robe, were identical to her own.

"Hello, Epherene," the woman said, her clear eyes curving into an alluring smile as she extended her hand, leaving Epherene stunned. "I’m Epherene too. Nice to meet you."

"You, you—"

"It’s fine. I’m providing the mana you need to speak with me, so feel free to talk," the older Epherene said, watching her younger self.

Epherene gazed in a daze at the older version of herself, looking her over from head to toe. This Epherene appeared far more mature and strikingly beautiful, even seeming to be about five centimeters taller than she was now.

“How many years ahead are you from me?” Epherene asked.

"Hmm... That question isn’t very effective. If I answered, you’d lose a thousand other things you could have asked," the older Epherene replied.

"Oh... so revealing that must use a lot of mana," Epherene realized.

"Yes~ something like that," the older Epherene said with a smile as she removed her robe, letting a cascade of glossy, long hair fall free.

The younger Epherene’s jaw dropped in astonishment at a beauty she hadn’t realized she possessed.

"So, if you're from the year 958, you must have come here with Professor Deculein," the older Epherene said.

"Oh, yes. Why? Do you want to punch him in the face too?!" Epherene blurted out, making the older version chuckle—a mature smile, but her next words were completely unexpected.

"Try not to hate him too much."

"... Huh? Why?"

"Haha. That’s all I can tell you. But don’t believe everything I say. I’m not exactly your future. In fact, I could be quite different. Lokralen is a place where timelines become hopelessly tangled," the older Epherene explained.

"Oh..." Epherene nodded, dazed.

"Epherene," a deep voice called from behind, instantly commanding the attention of both Epherene’s.

Deculein approached, his gaze shifting between the two of them before he addressed the older Epherene first.

"... So, you are Epherene too."

The older Epherene nodded, displaying an extreme calm confidence as she replied, "Yes, that’s right. You’re not surprised at all. How do you always know everything, Professor?"

"Interesting," Deculein said, offering nothing more.

Epherene shifted her gaze between them, noticing that although the older self was smiling, her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"... What?" Epherene murmured, noticing the older Epherene gazing up at Deculein with an almost lovesick expression. "Hey! Why are you looking at him like that?!"

"... Huh? Oh, haha," the older Epherene snapped back to reality at her younger self’s sudden outburst.

The Epherene from the year 958 shook her head in disbelief, but the older one gently placed a finger to her lips and whispered, "Shh."

Deculein observed her quietly.

"Why?" Epherene asked.

"Today is the day the academic conference ends. Anything could happen."

"The conference ends today? Why?"

"There were some issues. I’ll explain later. For now, younger Epherene, could you close your eyes for a moment?" the older Epherene asked gently.

"Um, o-okay." Epherene complied, closing her eyes without thinking too much about it.

The older Epherene smiled warmly, then turned back to Deculein and said, "Professor Deculein."

He met her steady gaze, though a faint, incredulous smile played on his lips.

"Are you truly Epherene?"

"Of course," the older Epherene replied with a soft smile, looking much more mature than her current self—perhaps by ten years. "It’s been a while. I’ve been waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Yes," the older Epherene replied. With that admission, she took a bold step forward and, without hesitation, hugged him.

Deculein, unusually, appeared taken aback. The older Epherene, however, buried her face in his chest, nuzzling it a few times.

"Sigh..."

After lingering in his arms for a long moment, she stepped back with a bittersweet smile and said, "... I just wanted to hug you once."

"W-what?!" Epherene gasped, her eyes flying open in shock.

But the moment had already passed. No, it signaled the beginning of something new.

"Shh," the older Epherene whispered again. She pointed down the hallway and added, "If we keep making noise, we could all end up dead."

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