A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 337: The Dog May Bark, but the Train Goes On (2)

… I was looking out the window, but the Chairman’s office in the Mage Tower offered no view, only the sky. From a height where ground objects couldn’t reach and not on the same level as clouds, this empty expanse was stained with colorful hues between morning and night while I watched the rainwater falling from the canvas in this space.

“… Rain,” I muttered.

The rain that drenched the world fell even in the modern world where Kim Woo-Jin lived and across the continent where Deculein lived, falling even upon the desolate desert and in the freezing Northern Region.

“What is it that you want?”

From behind, someone’s voice reached me, and I turned my eyes to look back at him.

Quay was writing his revelation, sitting on the guest sofa.

“Your defeat,” I replied.

“… Haha,” Quay murmured, laughing as he presented the revelation, which was a new script. “What do you think? It’s a script to distribute to the followers. I mixed Holy Language and Runic Language halfway through.”

This must be Quay’s own preparation, because if the continent falls to destruction, the world thereafter must necessarily be entirely transformed, I thought.

“… Behold, a fresh dawn breaks for you. The newly risen God sanctions your creation,” I muttered, holding Quay’s revelation and interpreting its meaning with Comprehension.

“As expected, your talent is remarkable,” Quay said, smiling brightly with admiration. “It’s the power for Comprehension, isn’t it?”

Even without my reply, Quay muttered his thoughts aloud.

“There was a friend of mine before who had a similar power to yours.”

In other words, the term friend for Quay meant follower.

“It is, perhaps, the very same power as that your friend had.”

“… The very same power?”

“Because Comprehension is an inherently unique talent, it is a power that holds no equal, existing but for one in this world,” I said.

It was not the talent of a single person, but a unique ability that never faded or changed. It remained unchanged even after nearly ten thousand years, merely waiting for the moment it would be imbued someday.

“I have, as it were, inherited it.”

… That moment of inheritance was just a few clicks, rather absurdly, as I modified Deculein’s setting.

“Well, Deculein, then I’ll change my question. Do you want to survive?” Quay asked, looking at me and nodding as if he immediately understood.

I have never thought about wanting to survive. What I am trying to do now—is it a sacrifice or merely my instinct? I thought.

“… It’s rather curious,” I said, looking around.

The dignified office—refined, delicate, splendid, antique—suited every luxurious word. That place, a landscape subtly magnificent, was decorated directly by Deculein’s personality, and was beautiful in its innate form. Nowhere within it did the aura of death—that was, a death variable—existed.

“My wish is for death, but the aura of death is absent from every corner.”

The Villain’s Fate seemed to be malfunctioning—or perhaps this was merely the way I was meant to survive, even as I desperately wished for death. But death seemed to be moving further away.

“Really? Then perhaps someone is sacrificing for you?” Quay muttered.

Then, with a dry laugh while reciting the names, Quay continued, “Yulie? Sophien? Or the Child of the Moon? Or, if not that, Yuara?”

I remained silent.

“Should you die, would anything really change?”

Drip, drip.

Rainwater touched the window, and a smile spread on my lips as I watched it.

“Anxious, aren’t you, Quay?”

Quay’s face hardened.

“You have already been defeated. Sophien, Epherene, Sylvia, Keiron… the entire continent will bring it to pass,” I added, addressing Quay.

“Even if I am defeated, there will be no happy ending. Rather, this continent, and your people, will know greater misery,” Quay replied, smiling and brushing his hair back.

“That might be so.”

For a great cause, sacrifice was necessary. To break the chains of hatred, a great villain was needed to bear those chains instead. Therefore, an ending where no one suffered loss did not exist.

“However.”

As there was no paradise that offered only happiness in any world.

“The dog may bark, but the train must go on,” I replied, glaring at Quay and smiling with certainty of victory. “As mere dog barks will be drowned by the mighty blare of the whistle.”

***

Deculein and his faction argued for the Empire’s expansion. The kingdoms of the continent, led by Leoc, might already be cooperating with the Altar and therefore could not be trusted. Their proposal was to strike them first, then gather all forces to bring the Altar to destruction—in other words, the Continental Unification Strategy.

Empress Sophien remained silent, perhaps because she disliked facing Deculein’s faction or found their overwhelming power exceeded her expectations, and she secluded herself in her inner chamber.

However, Deculein did not wait, and by his will alone the Scarletborn massacre resumed, though it was not direct slaughter but rather the annihilation of the people through the canvas.

Throughout the Empire, Scarletborn were once again detected, and the Imperial Knights’ Order along with Hadecaine’s knights’ order marched to the desert where they captured tens of thousands of Scarletborn and acquired a ledger containing the names of those who secretly supported them.

“Nonsense—!”

This place was the residence of senior minister Romelock—a mansion too humble and shabby compared to the renowned reputation of his house, which had stood as a pillar of the political world for generations.

“How dare you say that I would ally with the Scarletborn—! Do you believe you will escape unscathed after making such a slanderous accusation—!”

On that floor, Gawain watched Romelock resisting the knights, his eyes holding a distinct sadness.

“Deculein’s brutes, how dare you—! Release your hold—! I demand you to release me—!”

The knights ignored Romelock, who was pointing fingers, and rushed in, grabbing his arms, and then made him kneel as if throwing him down in front of Deculein.

“Y-You!” Romelock said, his eyes blazing as he looked up at Deculein.

“It cannot be helped, Romelock. Your name is written in the Scarletborn’s ledger,” Deculein replied, shrugging his shoulders and smirking in his uniform.

“H-How dare you—!”

“How dare I?” Deculein said, continuing as he froze the spittle flying from Romelock’s mouth with Telekinesis. “Who in this Empire is a loyal servant such as I?”

“Loyal servant?! You, of all people, what kind of loyal servant are you—”

“Am I not, for Her Majesty and this Empire, bringing the Scarletborn to heel? Am I mistaken?” Deculein interrupted, his eyes sweeping his surroundings.

Except for one person—Delic—all the knights by Deculein’s side let out maniacal laughter, while Delic, forcing a bitter smile, knew that this was not right.

“Leoc has already fallen to the Altar, Romelock, and the Principality of Yuren is consumed by insane ideologies. All this means that these events happened because they were not under the Empire’s direct authority.”

“Deculein! You are but a hound of the Altar, are you not?!”

“For what reason would I serve the Altar? I merely seek to identify and eliminate those who would betray the nation to the Scarletborn and the Altar.”

“Y-You…”

At that moment, Romelock’s face stiffened, for Deculein had presented him with the Scarletborn’s ledger.

“Your name stands recorded in this ledger. No, you are not alone in this.”

Then, Romelock’s breathing became ragged, and Deculein’s smile deepened.

“Many are those ministers who follow you,” Deculein continued, pointing to each name with his finger and explaining the contents of the ledger that would serve as their crime. “This one overlooked the Scarletborn’s crime, this one traded with the Scarletborn, and this one even sponsored the Scarletborn.”

“… Having committed such an act of manipulation, do you feel no compunction in your conscience?”

“Well, I am not certain, as it is not a manipulative act,” Deculein replied, grinning and standing up. “Confine them, all those written within this ledger as well.”

“… Satiate yourself with my suffering, Deculein,” Romelock said, his teeth clenched. “For how much longer will you continue down this path? You are in a state of overload.”

“… Be content with me, Deculein,” Romelock said, his teeth clenched. “How long will this continue? You are in a state of overloading.”

“Overload?”

“That is correct, you, too, should be able to see your face in the mirror.”

Having no more strength to shout, Romelock addressed Deculein in a low voice with what seemed to be a plea for mercy—no, rather a piece of advice.

“… You, too, will need a way out eventually, won’t you? When Her Majesty makes her move, even Yukline will struggle to stand against her. Do not underestimate the Imperial Palace’s immense power.”

Then, Deculein laughed, a clear sneer twisting his lips.

“Who barks?”

At that moment, Romelock’s eyes became bloodshot as he shouted like a beast and pulled out a dagger from within his body, but then a knight struck the back of his head with a scabbard, causing Romelock to faint.

“… Hmph,” Deculein said, snorting and looking at the knight, who was Delic. “You wasted an opportunity since that was my opportunity to kill him.”

“… I apologize,” Delic replied, bowing his head at Deculein’s words and looking at Romelock, who was sprawled on the floor.

“That is enough. We will now depart.”

“Yes, sir—!”

Leading a knight like an Empress, Deculein departed while Delic raised his head and looked at Deculein’s back with rather complex eyes.

To Gawain, the uncontrollably trembling pupils of Delic, who was a true knight, held special significance.

“Ahem.”

However, even before Gawain, who had cleared his throat, could approach Delic, Ria made her move first, and without anyone realizing, she stood next to Delic, handed the knight a tiny note, then swiftly returned to Gawain and indicated it was time for them to leave.

“… Alright,” Gawain said.

With Ria’s smile and Deculein’s determined actions…

… The train was gradually moving forward.

***

Again, having returned to Yukline’s mansion, I looked at the study, which was full of books—including grimoires, history books, and my own writings—and among these, the magic theory books I had invented would be of great help to this continent and allocated for reconstruction after the war.

I stretched out my hand.

Tap—

My hand trembled, causing me to drop the book I was trying to pull out.

It was merely using Telekinesis, but is my body now unable to handle even that much? I thought.

At that moment, I felt a warmth on my back, and as I turned my head, I saw Yulie hugging me from behind.

“… What is the meaning of this?” I inquired.

“Your back seemed cold,” Yulie replied.

At Yulie’s comment that my back seemed cold, I knew I had never been cold, but her holding me in her arms felt rather pleasant, and therefore I allowed her to remain.

“It seems to be getting warm,” I muttered, having remained thus.

Then, Yulie buried her face on my back, placed her hand on my stomach, and crossed her fingers with a scent flowing from her, having worn the forget-me-not scent around her body for a while.

“Professor.”

“… What is it?”

“I love you.”

Even at Yulie’s confession, my heart did not tremble, and I merely smiled.

“Is the duration remaining until completion a single month? Or is it two?” Yulie inquired.

“… I do not know, for I have not counted.”

The lighthouse would soon be completed, and the train would stop there, while my role was merely to lay the tracks for their journey, meaning I would not be at their destination.

“Then I will be by your side until the very end, Professor.”

The honest and sincere words of Yulie came with a transparent voice, and every time I heard them, they troubled Deculein’s reason, compelling me to act on impulse, and therefore I released her arms and turned toward her.

“It is indeed fortunate that I am not alone.”

“… Is that so?”

Seeing Yulie with a bright smile, I slowly stretched out my hand to her and…

***

“… This is enough,” Sylvia said, turning off the crystal orb.

The people who were watching simultaneously screamed.

“No, why did you suddenly turn it off from there?!” Jackal said, glaring.

“I wonder if it would be alright to show it to us again,” Carla said.

Clearing her throat, Arlos said, “Ahem. It is my obligation to confirm the performance of my puppet, and so that I may be aware of all its doings—”

“Be quiet.”

Arlos only mumbled with her lips.

“Shouldn’t I be permitted to see it?” Yulie asked, her face flushed and puffed up like a steamed bun, with steam rising from her head. “Shouldn’t I be seeing it?”

“Don’t act up,” Sylvia replied, shaking her head with an air of cold dismissal.

“… But.”

“Do not be mistaken. That Yulie is not you but a different person. Do not equate yourself with her. Now, everyone, go and do your work,” Sylvia said, waving a hand dismissively.

Currently, this painting prison held an exceedingly large number of individuals, and while Zeit managed to maintain a degree of control, merely establishing an effective organization and system demanded immense effort and manpower.

Of course, Deculein might have foreseen this internal situation and managed the population by sending individuals away—even having the foresight to dispatch the most capable officials first—but the persistent shortage of time remained an insurmountable obstacle.

“You did that because you’re angry, aren’t you? I know,” Arlos said.

Sylvia glanced at Arlos.

“Oh, alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

In this world, Sylvia was nothing short of a God, and at her single glance, Arlos whimpered and ran out of Sylvia’s mansion as if she were escaping.

“… Tch.”

However, it was the truth, and Sylvia was angry because she didn’t want to see Deculein making love with someone—no, she didn’t even know if he was making love or not—but the very thought was unbearable.

But Sylvia wished for Deculein to find happiness, even if only a little, and therefore all she could do was turn off the switch for him.

“But.”

However, as Sylvia looked at Deculein, she made a single resolve.

“You will not be able to die that easily.”

I understand what your intention is. You want to become the greatest villain and, with your own death, break all chains of hatred, Sylvia thought.

“Your sacrifice is something that we, at least, do not wish for,” Sylvia muttered.

However, Sylvia had two purposes for this drawn painting prison—one was to preserve the lives of the continent, and the other one was…

“Just as you saved me, just as you saved Epherene, and just as you saved Yulie.”

To return to Deculein what she had received from him, even a little, and that was all.