A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 278

Chapter 278: Matters Pending (1)

The magical expo, a grand event prepared by Yuren, was progressing peacefully. Citizens filled the fairgrounds with excitement, while mages from the Floating Island descended to the continent to demonstrate their newest magical innovations. Even the elders of the Round Table—Astal, the Addict; Jektaine, the elder; and Ihelm—had risen from their seats to attend.

Of course, I was also looking around at the many inventions on display at the magical expo. From time to time, my senses picked up tremors from the volcano, but none were strong enough to cause concern.

"Nothing of significance on display," I muttered.

At that moment, a voice reached me from just behind my shoulder.

“Nice work,” said Quay, the final boss, appearing beside me without a sound. “You stopped the volcano before it could do any real harm.”

"Not I—Epherene was the one who stopped it."

“None of it would’ve worked without you. But, I wonder if she will be okay?" Quay muttered.

Quay was fiddling with something in one hand—a doll made of tiny interlocking gears, probably picked up somewhere at the expo.

"Epherene’s talent is more than most humans could carry without breaking."

“Is that so?”

“Yes, what she lacks is the mental strength to hold herself together.”

Quay was right—Epherene’s greatest weakness had always been her mental strength.

Of course, she had a unique determination, she ranked above average among mages. But even that wasn’t nearly enough to contain the kind of talent Epherene possessed.

"Epherene might not even know what time she belongs to—or end up lost outside the timeline altogether."

Thud.

“The grand tour of the continent—still underway?” I inquired, stopping to glance over my shoulder.

“Mm-hmm.”

There was a strange lightness in Quay’s response, and perhaps influenced by the continent, even the way he spoke had changed—just a little.

Perhaps he’s grown this way from spending so much time at Epherene’s side, I thought.

“What were your impressions of the continent?” I inquired, my brow furrowing.

“... It wasn’t pleasant,” Quay replied with a smile, shaking his head. “The human class system turned my stomach—and their greed was no better. I knew that, of course. That’s why I arranged my body for the Empress. But knowing it and seeing it with my own eyes were two different things.”

Quay’s eyes tightened, a small wrinkle forming beside them.

"I witnessed a rich man beat a child for soiling his shoes with mud, a coachman treated with less dignity than the horse he guided, humans stealing from humans, killing, and violating without guilt, and nobles—those who believe they were chosen—wearing their superiority like birthright and their privilege like skin."

Quay fell silent for a moment and raised his hand to point directly at me.

“Deculein.”

Without a word, I started walking again, and Quay matched my pace, keeping a distance by my side.

“The continent has to be made new. I will become God, and I will cleanse it—down to its roots. This land, soaked in arrogance and unforgivable evil... I alone will be its salvation,” Quay concluded.

It was Quay’s definitive declaration being the final chapter of this world, but the way the story had played out felt inevitable. After all, humanity had always been rotten at its core, perfect equality like in the Holy Era was never possible, and—as I once told Sylvia—there was no paradise that offered only happiness.

“Quay,” I called.

“Yes.”

Thud— Thud—

“It seems we now stand as our own enemy,” I said as we moved through the corridor.

“We weren’t enemies before?”

“We might not have been—if you had walked away from your will.”

“That’s unfortunate. But the door hasn’t closed, Deculein. Even in our society, there were classes—ours were called the High Priests. If you ever change your mind, that seat is yours, and even if you don’t, your soul will still be preserved,” Quay replied, smiling as though nothing had changed.

Quay walked up to the wall of the expo and pinned something to it—a large bulletin titled Revelation.

“And what exactly are you doing?” I inquired, my brow furrowed in disbelief.

“Spreading my prophecy across the continent. It begins with the volcanic eruption—but this year holds far more. I’ll reveal every disaster to come.”

It followed the main quest I already knew—once the game entered its final stages, copies of this Revelation began appearing all over the city. Terrified of impending catastrophe or seeking hope, people flooded the Altars in feverishly growing numbers as part of one of those scripted events.

However...

“I should place one there as well. People will see it better from that spot.”

I never expected God himself to be the one walking on two feet, pasting those things up by hand.

"I’d suggest you reconsider that tone," I said.

“Hmm? What’s wrong with my tone?” Quay asked, tilting his head slightly as he pressed another bulletin to the wall.

“It seems both your tone and behavior have begun to mirror Epherene’s.”

“Oh~ I am keeping my eye on the child. But it’s nothing to worry about, as my soul exists elsewhere—what you see now is only a memory. Anyway, I heard you’re presenting something at the expo?”

“It will be presented soon.”

“Okay, I’ll watch it from afar—”

Wheeeeeee—!

Then a whistle was blown in our direction, and Quay turned toward the sound.

“What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t post that here! Are you a peddler?!” the guard said, rushing over and pointing to the bulletin.

"You should read it as well. There’s something in it for everyone—especially if you’re from Yuren," Quay said.

"Enough of that and let me see your identification card!"

The sudden commotion pulled everyone’s attention at the expo toward us, eyes snapping to Quay and the guard before, almost too naturally, being drawn to the bulletin board—just as Quay had planned.

“... Tch,” I murmured, clicking my tongue as I passed by without a glance and turned toward a corner of the expo hall.

Deculein von Grahan-Yukline

It was the stage prepared for the Magicore—assigned in the Yukline Hall, the grandest and most extravagant space in the entire expo. Right now, it bore nothing but my name, completely empty, yet undeniably the centerpiece for all to see.

I stood in silence, imagining Decalane’s Magicore placed on that stage—what it would look like and what it would mean. Though it had always been his accomplishment, I would be the one to present it to the world now, and I held that image in my mind.

“Oh, can you stop posting that?! I just took it down—why are you posting it again in the same place?”

“You can take them down, and I will keep putting them back.”

“Oh, come on! Somebody get this man out of here!”

... I paid no mind to the commotion behind me, letting it fade into the background.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Decalane were standing here, whether he would launch into a grand speech, proudly revealing his invention to thundering applause, gather every last member of his house and turn it into a national celebration, or perhaps present it by crushing his rivals beneath the weight of his brilliance.

No—it wouldn’t have been either, for thinking back to the Decalane I remembered now as both Deculein and Kim Woo-Jin, the man in my memory would have done something else entirely...

***

The next day, I sat in the airship from Yuren back to the Empire.

“Are we really leaving like this?” Epherene asked, her voice tight with frustration. “We haven’t even caught the thief who stole the transformation formula, and we haven’t told anyone about it. I helped with the Magicore, too. Also, Berbaldi—what is that, anyway?”

“What about it?” I replied, shrugging.

"Berbaldi—what is it? Whose name is that?"

“I do not know.”

The name I used to submit the Magicore was Berbaldi—a no-name mage on paper, like a second account—I borrowed Arlos’s identity and even had one of her puppets handle the submission.

However, I had no doubt the Magicore was now attracting a crowd—not in the Grand Hall, or even the Intermediate Hall, but tucked away in some corner of the Basic Hall. That, without question, was Decalane’s style to show high impact.

If I submitted this Magicore under another mage’s name, it wouldn’t matter, as reporters and rival houses would still scramble to plaster Decalane’s name across the headlines, desperate to ride the shockwave of his legacy—a no-name mage who surpassed Decalane himself, overtaking the Head of Yukline’s magical legacy and dethroning him in a moment of brilliance, and so on.

Watching it all play out—the stirring of the pot and savoring the chaos—that was Decalane’s delight, and I suppose I’ve inherited a taste for that kind of troublemaking.

“And why am I going? Let’s say you’re satisfied, Professor. But I should be standing in the light, right next to my aircraft, with the crowd cheering.”

“Then you may go back.”

“So, I need to... sorry?” Epherene muttered, blinking as if unsure she’d heard right.

"You may go back," I said. "To stand next to your aircraft and let the applause from the crowd wash over you."

Epherene hesitated for a moment, then glanced out the window of the airship, which was still on the ground, before clearing her throat.

"No, I’ve things to do on the continent as well," Epherene said. "I think I’d rather go now."

Perhaps Epherene had seen a future where the aircraft received condemnation instead of applause, so she slumped back into her seat, and I watched her, lost in thought.

“Epherene might not even know what time she belongs to—or end up lost outside the timeline altogether.”

Quay was right—time was not something a mere human could command, and the greater Epherene’s talent grew, the more time itself would try to shape her instead. That’s why she needed mental strength—stronger and sharper than when she overcame Decalane.

However, the question remained—how one developed that kind of mental strength and whether it could even be taught—as I considered this, one word that surfaced was pressure, bringing to mind graduate students worn down by unforgiving professors, who endured brutal pressure and stretched their endurance to the breaking point.

Of course, mental strength might not have grown from pressure alone, but since pressure came in many forms, Epherene—at least then—was the kind who no longer ran, standing her ground, and as the volcano incident had shown, leaving her to her own devices only made her complacent.

“Oh, I’m starving. The first thing I’ll do when I get to the Empire is have some Roahawk,” Epherene said.

“... Hmm.”

“Ahem, nevermind.”

"Oh, I should definitely cite this in my thesis."

The Floating Island, the Mage Towers of the University—have none of them brought forth any technology worth the name? Louina thought.

“Hmph. What about you, then?” Ihelm asked, glancing toward Louina.

“Sniffle... sniffle...”

But to withdraw in the middle of the expo? Isn’t that a bit much? Louina thought.

Deculein von Grahan-Yukline