A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 82: His Exam (2)

Chapter 82: His Exam (2)

Memories lingered in the smallest details—the hand she clutched as they walked through the Iliade Castle halls, afraid of losing her way, the flowers they nurtured together in the garden, the bedtime stories whispered before sleep, and the stray cat she had begged to adopt.

When Sylvia reflected on her past, her memories spanned only eight years—the short time she had with her mother.

Human memories accumulate like grains of sand. The oldest ones settled at the bottom, with countless others piling on top. As time passed, the weight of these layers buried some memories, while others remained sharp, piercing through without blending in.

Sylvia’s memories were like that. They weren’t buried by time or washed away, and they never faded. The memories of her mother, who left this world too soon, remained eternal.

As time went on, Sylvia became aware of a new presence growing in her mind. From Lokhak, from Berhert, from the Baron of Ashes—a professor who had once protected her. Someone who perhaps carried a sorrow similar to her own. He slowly took root in her heart, like a delicate shoot breaking through barren soil.

As she trembled before sleep, when loneliness constricted her heart, her thoughts inevitably drifted to him. Sylvia recognized this feeling all too well. It was unmistakable, and perhaps that certainty made it even more painful.

... Sylvia slowly opened her eyes to a stark white ceiling, with the light flickering above her. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she lay motionless for a long time.

Rustle—

The quiet sound of pages turning caught her attention. Sylvia slowly turned her gaze and saw Professor Deculein seated in a chair.

Without lifting his eyes from the book, as if sensing her gaze, he spoke with a measured tone, “The exam has ended. You’ve been asleep for 48 hours.”

His blue eyes locked onto hers—clear as crystal but as cold as ice.

"Your performance throughout the semester was flawless, so an A grade is more than appropriate."

The final exam made up 35% of the overall grade, but Sylvia had already achieved perfect scores in the remaining 65%. She held a twenty-point lead over the second-place student, Epherene. Even with a zero on the final, she would only drop slightly from first place.

"... Professor."

"You should take these grades to the Floating Island," Deculein repeated, echoing something he had mentioned in the past.

Sylvia looked at him, her lips trembling. She had never truly understood what it meant to feel resentful, but now that feeling consumed every part of her.

Deculein abruptly closed his book and rose to his feet. He was ready to leave, but Sylvia couldn’t let him go.

"... My father explained why I shouldn’t be under your guidance," Sylvia said, gripping the bedsheet tightly. "He told me that Iliade and Yukline are sworn enemies, destined to destroy each other. Is that why?"

Deculein’s gaze stayed cold, but Sylvia didn’t waver. The pain in her heart was piercing, yet she endured it because it came from him.

"Sylvia."

"Yes, Professor."

"I have never regarded you as an Iliade," Deculein stated.

Her heart fluttered at his words, and with a glimmer of hope, she asked, "Then who am I to you?"

"... Sylvia."

She nodded again and replied, "Yes, Professor."

"Sylvia."

"Yes, Professor."

"Simply Sylvia," Deculein repeated, tilting his head slightly as if reconsidering his words.

Then, with greater clarity, he spoke again.

"... A potential Archmage, this year’s top novice mage, a miracle in the Magical Realm, a talent destined to reach the Authority, and a child of Iliade," Deculein recited, listing each title that would have once stirred envy within him. These were the accolades bestowed upon Sylvia.

"You may bear many titles, yet to me, you are simply Sylvia."

Deculein was oblivious to the emotions Sylvia held for him, and such things mattered little to him. Yet, as Kim Woo-Jin, there was something he felt compelled to say.

"As my student, you are under my protection and guidance, and at times, you will need proper counsel."

Deculein looked down at his gloved hands—a reflection of his guarded heart and his aversion to physical contact. Sylvia was still young, with much to learn—physically, emotionally, and as a mage.

"It is my duty to guide you on the proper path."

Sylvia gazed at him steadily. His words, both warm and cold, nurtured the tender shoot in her heart, making it grow stronger with each exchange. The thought of losing him was unbearable; she wanted to keep him in her heart forever. So, she spoke.

"My father claimed that the Yukline family, that you, were responsible for harming my mother."

Sylvia longed for him to refute it.

"This cannot be true, can it? Surely, it is a lie?"

Yet, no matter how long she waited, or how many times, there was only silence.

"Professor."

Drum-drum-drum...

In the stillness of the hospital room, the only sound was the soft patter of rain against the window. The silence pressed in, suffocating.

"My father’s words are false," Sylvia said, forcing a smile. "They’re nothing but lies."

She repeated the words he had left unsaid.

"... Lies."

An unfamiliar emotion settled in her heart, leaving her voice hollow. Sylvia shifted her gaze to the window, watching the rain cascade down. In the glass, Deculein’s reflection appeared, his expression as indifferent and cold as ever.

She spoke to his reflection softly, "Please go.”

***

I walked down the dark corridor, rain pounding against the windows. The sky was pitch black until a flash of lightning cut through it. In that brief flare of light, I saw him—a man’s shadowed face, his eyes locked on mine.

“Professor Deculein,” Glitheon said.

He was a well-groomed man in his middle years, with striking blonde hair and sharp golden eyes. The type who belonged in the Lunatic category—Glitheon.

"I heard my daughter collapsed from exhaustion during your exam," Glitheon stated, his voice devoid of any concern. "Tell me, was it your fault or hers?"

The offhand way he posed the question ignited a deep contempt within me—one that both Deculein and Kim Woo-Jin shared.

"Glitheon, what exactly did you say to Sylvia?" I demanded.

Glitheon’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and calculating. The intensity in his blood-red pupils slowly gave way to a sly smile as he responded, "I haven’t said much, Deculein. But do you remember that day? Ten years ago, when Iliade and Yukline were at war?"

My memories as Deculein were still limited. I knew Iliade and Yukline were bitter enemies, but I had no way of knowing the deeper details. After all, the original Deculein and Sylvia had only ever harbored hatred for each other.

"That day, as Ciel attempted to leave, you took her life," Glitheon said.

Cielia... Sylvia’s mother. I wasn’t sure what Glitheon was alluding to, but his words triggered something in me, a scene flashing through my mind. The sound of rain tapping against the window merged with the image of Glitheon’s face.

It was ten years ago, on a day when the rain fell like a storm. Glitheon spoke to Deculein, and Deculein looked down at his gloved hands, already stained with blood.

"I will not let you ruin Sylvia as well," Glitheon declared.

Fragments of memory stirred in my mind, but I quickly steadied myself. I wasn’t one to be easily shaken. Ignoring him, I walked past without a backward glance.

"Deculein, are you attempting to run away again?"

His words stopped me cold, as if a hand had seized my back. Anger flared up inside me.

I turned back toward Glitheon and spoke his name, “Glitheon.”

"Deculein, you’ve always been this way. Acting high and mighty, pretending to look down on everyone, yet in truth, you’re the most fearful of all—"

"Glitheon—!" I roared, the words exploding from me, driven by a rage I hadn't known was there.

Heat surged through my chest as my voice thundered down the corridor. Glitheon’s eyes widened in shock. I closed the distance between us, looming over him, his gaze barely reaching my chin.

"I see through your every thought."

"... See through me? And what, exactly, do you perceive?" Glitheon asked.

“Sylvia is not your toy.”

Glitheon was a mage consumed by ambition. His family's obsession with creating an Archmage drove him to ruthless lengths, and to him, Sylvia was nothing more than a tool in that pursuit.

"Did you just claim you wouldn’t let Sylvia be ruined?" I asked coldly, pressing my finger into his chest. Glitheon tried to stand his ground, but the force of the Iron Man sent him stumbling back. "That’s my line, Glitheon."

“What?”

"The tainted legacy of your family."

Glitheon’s face stiffened, and a smirk crept across my lips. The name Iliade—his only true weakness.

"I will not allow it to ruin Sylvia," I declared.

This wasn’t just anger—it was Deculein’s rage taking form. At that moment, Sylvia didn’t matter. She was just a pretext. My hatred for Glitheon was all too real.

"Deculein, you killed Ciel. If Sylvia breaks, that will be your doing as well," Glitheon declared, his hatred mirroring my own.

In reality, it was probably just as strong as mine.

"You’ve grown, haven’t you? The boy who once cowered in fear... just look at you now," Glitheon remarked, his gaze lingering on me as if recalling the Deculein of old.

"Glitheon, it’s you who has diminished," I said.

Lightning flashed again, flooding the world outside with blinding light. In the glass reflection of the corridor, I glimpsed Sylvia. She was hidden behind a wall, out of Glitheon’s view, trembling in the shadows. With the third strike of lightning, she disappeared entirely.

***

The sky was clear, sunlight filtering through the leaves of towering trees, casting soft shadows on the ground. The streets buzzed with energy and laughter. With final exams behind them, summer felt brighter and more joyful than ever. By 3 p.m., Romellot Square in the Empire was alive with a festival celebrating the end of the first half of the year.

Students fresh from exams, workers enjoying their vacations, farmers finished with their tasks, and travelers arriving at just the right time—people of all kinds filled the square. The festival buzzed with activity as Imperial peddlers set up vibrant stalls. Games like darts and indoor fishing, offering prizes, added to the lively atmosphere.

“Wow,” Epherene murmured, standing in the midst of the festival with a slightly dazed expression. For someone from the countryside, the scene before her seemed almost unreal. “Everything looks so delicious...”

“Ephie!”

Julia's voice pulled Epherene from her thoughts. She turned to find Julia, Ferit, Rondo, and the other CMRC members standing nearby.

“Julia~ Ferit~ Rondo~”

"Ephie~ I heard you took first place in Understanding Pure Elements class! Congratulations~"

Epherene smiled brightly, but her expression soon darkened as a thought crossed her mind, and she quietly said, “She didn’t come.”

"Ephie, did you invite someone else?" Julia asked.

"No, it’s nothing," Epherene replied.

Epherene had written to Sylvia’s maid, Lethe, at the mansion, but it seemed that Sylvia had no plans to attend.

“Julia, I’ll let you lead the way today.”

“Sure~ There’s a ton of fun stuff today! Ephie, is your wallet ready?”

“It’s more than ready.”

Epherene wandered through the square, absorbing the lively atmosphere and the shared joy that filled the air. They laughed and chatted, immersed in the sights and sounds of the festival.

“Oh?!”

Epherene noticed a stall selling potato croquettes—five for three elne. Without a second thought, she bought a batch and took a big bite. The crisp exterior broke into a warm, flavorful center.

“Oh wow, this is delicious! Oh?! What’s that over there?”

Next, she spotted a stall selling dumplings—three elne per plate. She bought a serving and took a bite, savoring the rich flavor of the meat that filled her mouth.

“Oh, this is good too! Oh?! What’s that over there?”

She came across a stall offering waffles for two elne. After buying one, she took a small bite from the corner, savoring the sweetness of the strawberry cream within.

“Sweet, so sweet. Deliciously sweet... Oh?! That’s perfect! I was just getting thirsty!”

Next, she noticed a stall offering plum juice for two elne per glass. She bought one and quickly drank it down.

Julia watched in disbelief and asked, "... Ephie, aren’t you buying too much?"

"Huh?" Epherene muttered, glanced down realizing her hands were full of food.

The problem was, there was still so much more food left to try. After a moment's hesitation, Epherene passed the food to her clubmates.

“Ah~ I was planning to share. Let’s eat together. You can each have a croquette and a dumpling, but the waffle is mine.”

Julia and the others accepted the food with wry smiles, but their attention was abruptly drawn to a desperate shout that echoed through the square, cutting through the festive noise.

“I, Roherk, hereby make this solemn vow!”

Epherene furrowed her brow in confusion while the crowd turned to where the voice had come from.

"Under this brilliant sky, in a land tainted with filth!"

A strange figure appeared on top of Briondel’s Independence Gate.

"In this hell, overrun with those who have betrayed God!"

The man was clad in a chain-bound robe, a black velvet cloak draped over his shoulders, and a book strapped diagonally across his chest from shoulder to hip.

Epherene tilted her head in confusion and asked, “What is that guy doing?”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s just a performance,” one of the club members replied casually.

They didn’t take it seriously; after all, festivals in the square often featured events like this.

"I vow before God Luanne!"

“... Luanne?”

However, the name was unfamiliar. Luanne wasn’t part of the Empire’s official religion, Bleth Orthodoxy, which revered Ranion. There was no mention of a God by that name in their teachings.

“Hey Julie, who’s Luanne?” Epherene asked, taking another bite of her dumpling.

Julia shrugged, replying, “I’m not sure. Isn’t that one of the God worshiped by the Scarletborn?”

“The Scarletborn? You mean those people—”

Before Epherene could finish her sentence, the man bellowed, “Divine retribution upon the heretics!”

A deafening shout rang out, immediately followed by a massive explosion.

Boooooom—!

The earth-shattering blast sent shockwaves in all directions, followed closely by a surge of demonic energy.

“Ahhhhhh—!”

“Ahhh, nooo—!”

A wave of heat and flames ripped through the square. Buildings struck by the blast collapsed, scattering debris everywhere. In an instant, the lively festival was plunged into chaos as explosions and screams echoed through the air.

“Ephie!”

Julia’s scream jolted Epherene into action. She swiftly deployed a barrier.

She stretched the barrier as far as possible to protect the civilians, but something felt wrong. There was no impact against the shield; instead, an unsettling silence hung in the air. The screams that had filled the square moments ago were abruptly silenced.

“What was that...?”

Dazed, Epherene blinked and stared ahead, unable to find her voice.

Time had stopped. The square was utterly still. Smoke hung in the air, buildings paused in mid-collapse, and the shockwave of the explosion remained suspended. Debris, moments away from striking a child’s head or an adult’s body, now floated motionless, as if time itself had ceased. Not even a single particle of dust moved.

Those who had prepared themselves for death beneath the collapsing rubble or were moments away from being buried in debris could only stare in stunned disbelief, their thoughts paralyzed as if caught in a dream. The scene was so unreal that even the urge to flee felt pointless.

Epherene gazed around, dazed. The world felt both real and surreal. Everyone in the square wore the same expression, as if caught in a dream. No one moved, allowing Epherene an unobstructed view.

“Oh.”

Epherene then noticed him. Amidst the eerie stillness, he was the only one in motion—a mage, calmly striding through the frozen scene. Clad in his usual formal attire, he commanded the attention of everyone around him with ease.

The victims of the terror, lying scattered across the square, turned their eyes toward him. They didn’t need magical senses or instincts to know—Deculein was the one who had halted time and space in this surreal, magical moment.

“How dare you—! A heretic—!”

Deculein reached out his hand toward the man shouting from atop the Independence Gate. In an instant, the man was yanked from the arch straight to Deculein. The magic was Telekinesis, targeting the chain that bound the book to the man’s robe. Deculein locked eyes with him—there was no fear, no terror, no hesitation in the face of the death that awaited him.

“You.”

"Heh," the man sneered, lifting his robe to reveal a bomb strapped to his waist.

"Tsk," Deculein muttered, his lips curling in disdain as he fixed his gaze on the man.

Beep—

Just before the bomb could detonate, Deculein’s Telekinesis tore it apart from the inside.

"You worthless creature."

“You Decule—”

"Silence your foul tongue."

Swish—!

A swift Wood Steel shuriken tore through the man’s throat, silencing him instantly.

"Heheh," the man grinned, even in his final moments, before triggering his own self-destruction.

Demonic energy oozed from his throat like smoke, coalescing into a dark mass that sought to engulf Deculein. But a sudden burst of sword qi froze it in place, a testament to Knight Yulie's power.

"This is a coordinated terrorist attack, Professor," Yulie reported.

Deculein nodded, a gesture that confirmed they were prepared to take control of the situation.

"Oh, I’ll help too!" Epherene called out, raising her hand eagerly.

Yulie smiled at Epherene's boldness, but as Epherene moved forward, her foot caught on something, causing her to stumble.

"Oof!" Epherene groaned as she hit the ground, wincing in pain as she looked up.

Deculein’s gaze pierced through her, colder and more predatory than she had ever seen before.

“Epherene, this isn’t your place. Kindly get lost,” Deculein commanded, his voice cold.

The terror attack employed a Demonic Energy Bomb, filling the square with a heavy, suffocating energy. Deculein had no time to concern himself with Epherene.

“Are you alright, Miss Epherene?” Yulie asked, helping Epherene to her feet.

Yulie of Freyden, a knight whose reputation was known even to Epherene.

“Thank you. Knight Yulie, I’m a fan of yours.”

“Oh, really? I’m honored. However, please don’t dwell on what just occurred. The professor was merely being cautious due to the danger. For now, concentrate on assisting the civilians, oof—"

As Yulie spoke, a gas mask abruptly affixed itself to her face—it was Deculein’s doing.

Yulie removed the gas mask from her face, handing it to Epherene.

“... Here, take this. Please focus on evacuating the area, and oof—"

Before she could finish, another gas mask landed on her face. Yulie swiftly removed it and passed it to Julia, who stood next to Epherene.

“Y-yes, we’ll handle the square.”

“I appreciate for your help, but oof—”

Yulie’s voice was muffled as a third gas mask latched onto her face. She fell silent and departed with Deculein, who had been quietly observing. As they walked away, Epherene noticed the Wood Steel fragments floating around Deculein, trailing behind them as they moved.

"... Wow," Julia whispered, her mouth hanging open in awe.

Epherene felt the same awe. Deculein orchestrated the chaos with the precision of a conductor. The demonic energy’s smoke, the collapsing buildings, and the raging flames—all of it was controlled with a mere gesture.

The deadly cloud of demonic energy hung in the sky, debris from the shattered buildings settled safely, and the flames consuming the ground were swiftly extinguished.

"The Empire’s Head Professor..." one of the newly arrived knights muttered, clearly impressed by the sight before them.

Epherene remained in a daze until she felt a large hand settle on her shoulder.

“Well, well. Deculein has certainly grown, hasn’t he? I never imagined he’d become this powerful. His magic has not only increased in strength but has also refined in the quality of mana... As you mentioned, he truly is a genius forged through relentless effort,” the man in the cloak said with a smile, looking down at Epherene.

Epherene's eyes widened in disbelief as she recognized him.

“Rohaka—”

"Shh, do you wish to announce the presence of the continent’s most notorious man here?" Rohakan whispered urgently as he quickly covered her mouth.

Epherene nodded quickly, then suddenly recalled her mistake.

“I sent the letter by mail. If it would have been better to deliver it in person—”

"Hm? Oh, no need to worry. Sending it by mail suffices."

“Oh, yes... I apologize. The distance was too far for me to deliver it personally. I had exams to take, studies to attend to, and—”

“I told you, it’s quite alright. Now, let’s be on our way.”

"No, I have many responsibilities to attend to, and I've been assigned additional tasks as well. So—"

Epherene looked to her friends for help, but they were all too engrossed in Deculein to notice.

“Ah, come along now. I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh, hold on! Wh-where are you taking me? Ahh! Wait! Someone, help!”

Rohakan swept Epherene away before she could say another word.