A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 360: Epilogue (3) Part 1

#8. Collapse

Swoooooosh…

It was a feeling as if starlight were scattering, as if an oncoming wave were breaking upon the shore, or as if gentle petals were falling in a fleeting moment.

The fragments of Lokralen, dismantled by someone’s grand magic—a miracle—sank with a rustling sound as clear sunlight flowed through their descent, and the remnants of Lokralen along with the floating pieces of transparent glass dispersed, filling the entire world.

The sight was breathtakingly beautiful, incredibly fantastical to the point of feeling unreal, a dream that Epherene had to hold back her tears from.

“… Isn’t it strange?” Epherene muttered.

Epherene looked at the temporal nexus of time, which had already disappeared, and let out a mutter that replaced her tears.

“During all this time…”

The long period of one year and three months—fifteen months—remained in Epherene’s heart, and she would cherish all the days she had spent with him as her most precious memory, remembering them until the very end.

“I was the happiest I have ever been.”

To that extent, Epherene was happy, for even in Lokralen, where everything was stagnant and the concept of time had disappeared, her unchanging days and locked moments were satisfying enough, and she was more joyful than she had ever been merely because she was with him.

“Maybe I was too happy.”

However, whether she had woken from a happy dream or this was a finale that came too soon, Epherene held her diary tightly and lowered her head.

While she remained motionless like this, a host of emotions rose within Epherene, but she could not express them in words as her throat tightened, her heart lurched, and her heart cried out that it was sorrowful and painful just to think about it.

… Because I know now that I won’t be able to see him again. No matter how much I hope, no matter how much I try, and even if I become a great archmage, I will never be able to be with Deculein.

“The Sanctuary remains, though.”

Of course, Epherene had the opportunity to speak with Deculein once more, for he himself had told her that the true final moment—the Sanctuary of Ages—was where she could talk to him of the past.

“There is no way I could be satisfied with something like that,” Epherene muttered, a smile on her face.

A meeting in the Sanctuary can still be called a meeting, I suppose, and even if it’s only a few words, a conversation is still a conversation.

However, since Epherene now genuinely loved Deculein of all time, a meeting like that would be nothing more than poison to her.

“… Well, that’s okay.”

Even if I were to drink the poison meant to make me suffer for a lifetime, never to forget you, it would be nothing more than a remedy that only deepened my longing without offering any relief…

“I’m not going to refuse anyway.”

Their meeting would be a mere moment for Epherene, yet the pain of it was equal to an eternity, and though the words might sound strange, she had no choice but to accept it, for that single moment was powerful enough to overcome an eternity, as time was always relative.

“I’ll always follow you, no matter where we go,” Epherene concluded, her footsteps determined.

Crackle— Crackle—

Epherene turned away from the collapsing Lokralen, holding only the memories of her time there in her heart, and with each step… she moved farther and farther from the past.

#9. Northern Region

After the Altar incident in Freyden, the largest city in the Northern Region, it became the Empire’s stronghold there, regaining its old status as a sacred land for knights.

The Freyden Castle, known as the Winter Castle, was now visited each month by thousands of aspiring knights on pilgrimage, and the Freyden Knights’ Order was regarded as second only to the Imperial Knights’ Order.

Its image as a land of harshness, barrenness, and backwardness was completely shed through its cooperation with Yukline, and Freyden now stood as the leader of the entire Northern Region and a great territory.

“… Phew.”

In a small workshop somewhere in Freyden, where wood and various metals like copper, silver, and gold lay in disarray, Yulie was in the process of making a sculpture.

“There.”

The completed piece in her hands was thoroughly satisfying, and therefore Yulie wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled brightly, and in a way, swordsmanship and sculpting were similar, as both resembled the human soul and the color of a person.

Therefore, in sculpting and in swordsmanship, the trajectory of her life was enshrined, and the emotions of that moment were infused within.

Jingle—

The moment Yulie was smiling with satisfaction, the sudden sound of a bell caused her shoulders to twitch.

Has someone entered the workshop? No, no one should know that this is my workroom, do they?

“… Hmm?” Yulie murmured, her head tilted to the side as she looked over.

A person was indeed standing there, a man in a black robe whose face was hidden, and judging by his physique, he walked to the center of the workshop and stood without a word, surveying the many sculptures on display.

While his appearance might have been a bit suspicious, his eyes seemed to be a simple appreciation of the sculptures, and after walking in as he pleased, he even nodded his head in what seemed to be satisfaction.

“I must ask, who are you?” Yulie asked first, a look of curiosity on her face.

Then, without a word, he turned to Yulie, and though only the lower half of his face was visible beneath the robe, it was a face she did not recognize at all.

“… I am a customer of this place,” he replied.

The tone of his voice was indeed unfamiliar.

“Is that so?”

Yulie walked over to stand by his side, and though this unexpected guest was a complete stranger, she didn’t want to treat him with anything but kindness.

He is, of course, a person I’ve never seen, but there is a scent to him that suggests he is not entirely new to me.

“Would it be possible to purchase one?” he inquired, gesturing to a carved statue with his finger.

“… Oh.”

Upon seeing it, Yulie started in surprise, and though she wanted to sell it to him if possible, she nervously scratched the back of her neck and shook her head with a bitter smile.

“This is not for sale…”

The sculpture was of Yulie, crafted from Snowflower Stone, an arm’s-length statue depicting Yulie von Deya-Freyden that portrayed the end of the great hero who sacrificed her all to save the continent, a moment Yulie herself had witnessed firsthand.

“… I’m afraid,” Yulie continued.

The knight, holding her sword with both hands, had fulfilled all her dearest wishes as she was swallowed by eternal ice, and therefore this sculpture could not be sold to anyone.

Then, suddenly, he looked back at Yulie, his eyes somehow bright and crystalline, and strikingly intense that even Yulie, a knight who had reached a master’s level in her own way, flinched just a little.

“This is the one I would like to purchase,” he replied once more.

“… I apologize, but I must refuse,” Yulie said, her tone formal.

“Hmm,” he murmured, a sigh escaping his lips.

No, it was less a sigh than a breath that, for some reason, sounded like a chuckle.

“What a shame that it is not for sale. Have you given up the sword in favor of carving?” he inquired in a low voice.

“Pardon? Oh, I… I have not given up the sword…”

Yulie had become Yulie, meaning the Yulie that everyone on the continent had known no longer existed.

Therefore, the Yulie she was now was forced to pretend that she knew the old Yulie’s acquaintances and the people who were connected to her, even though she knew none of them.

Because a meteorite impact caused by the Altar is something that cannot exist on this continent, and no one wishes for that fact to come to light, and I am certain Yulie is no exception, Yulie thought.

“Ahem, although it is true that I am concentrating on my carvings,” Yulie added as she cleared her throat.

Yulie would not be easily discovered, for her face had been altered with Josephine’s cosmetics to closely resemble the skin and age of the old Yulie.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Very well, then. Good luck with your work.”

Then, in an unconcerned manner, he turned without another word, opened the door to the workshop, and walked outside.

Creeeeeak—

Thud.

Staring at the door as it closed, Yulie blinked.

He showed up out of nowhere, and left just as quickly.

“… What.”

Yulie was stunned for a moment, then decided he must have a story of his own and turned away.

At that very moment, Yulie’s wide eyes widened even further.

“… Ohhh?!”

The scream Yulie had never let out even when she was pierced by a sword was now caused by the shocking, empty space in the corner of the display case—the exact spot where Yulie’s sculpture had been—no, calling it where it had been was a ridiculous thing to say.

Only three seconds ago—

“Oh, darn it!”

He was a thief.

Yulie rushed outside, but the space beyond the door was already empty.

“Huh…”

The workshop was just as it had always been, far from the city with Freyden’s freezing winter sky and an air that was so tight it felt as if it would tear, and that was exactly the scene that greeted her as always.

“… How the heck—”

Yulie, who was about to let out a curse for the first time ever, managed to suppress it and returned to her workshop.

“What do you take the public authority of Freyden to be…?”

Yulie stomped along in anger, and just as she was about to call the police using the crystal orb on one side of her workshop, she noticed a small note on her table, containing a very short and simple sentence.

Consider this to be your belated tuition to me.

“Tuition…?”

Tuition. Tuition. Tuition.

Yulie repeated it about three times, and then, all at once, a shiver went down her spine.

“… Wait a second.”

The mention of tuition suggested that the lesson Yulie received from someone might be the only one she would ever have in her entire life.

“There is no way that… he was Deculein?” Yulie muttered.

The thought made Yulie turn back once more, but beyond the door she had flung open, only empty wind whirled.