A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 243

Chapter 243: Sylvia (6) Part 1

The island remained as peaceful as ever. Just as before, Sylvia showed Deculein her world—her paintings, her sketches, and drew his portrait. They walked together, and in the golden hush of evening, they ended the day with dinner.

Deculein cut her venson steak for her, poured red wine without a drop misplaced, and raised the glass with effortless elegance. Sylvia took in everything—his rhythm, his manner, his voice—committing it to memory, frame by frame.

"You cannot find meaning in a life that hides from reality."

Of course, Deculein spoke the way he did, no different from the man she’d drawn on canvas just yesterday. But something about it felt too real, stirring her anger, and beneath it, something softer. Sylvia could still see herself in the mage tower, smaller then, a young mage who clung to his words and called it learning when it was already something more.

“Be it tomorrow or the day after, I’ll be back when you’re ready. This journey won’t take long,” Deculein concluded.

Deculein turned and left the restaurant; however, Sylvia didn’t reach for him, as she didn’t need to. Half a day was more than enough for the paint to set.

Creeeak—

Behind her, the restaurant door slipped shut.

“Goodbye,” Sylvia muttered.

“... How much longer do you mean to repeat this?”

At that moment, Idnik appeared from the kitchen, Sylvia met her eyes, and Idnik raised an eyebrow—nothing more, but it said enough.

“I told you that you could leave whenever you wanted, Idnik.”

“No true mentor would walk away from their protégé,” Idnik said, taking the seat across from her and forking the piece of steak that Deculein had left behind.

Sylvia watched Idnik in silence.

“And the opportunities to research a magical space like this don’t come twice.”

As Idnik brought the bite to her mouth with her fork, Sylvia reached out before she could eat it.

“... Why?” Idnik asked, frowning slightly as she lowered her fork.

"Deculein was eating that."

“I don’t care whose it was; it’s just food. I—”

“No,” Sylvia said, shaking her head as she pulled Deculein's plate in front of herself.

“Seriously? After all that, you’re going to eat it yourself?” Idnik said, letting out a humorless laugh in disbelief.

"Eat from mine instead."

“That’s no way to ask.”

“Please,” Sylvia said as she set the plate before her.

While Idnik worked through her steak and took a bite, Sylvia only just reached for her fork, letting it fall into place above the plate.

Gulp—

Sylvia’s eyes fell on the steak Deculein had eaten and swallowed.

Deculein took a bite of this...

“... You’re not marrying the steak. Just eat it already,” Idnik said.

"What do you think, Idnik," Sylvia asked, coughing lightly before tasting the steak as if it meant nothing at all.

“About what.”

“About drawing Deculein.”

“Haven’t given it much thought.”

“... For the last five years.”

Time on the Voice obeyed no rule—sometimes faster, sometimes slower—but neither pace brought peace. Sylvia had become someone new over five years, but her life, piece by piece, had thinned in return.

“You’ll just end up giving in to Deculein anyway, so why should I bother?” Idnik said with a faint chuckle.

“Hmph.”

“You’re not asking because you’re uncertain. You asked because, deep down, you already know you’re going the wrong way, don’t you.”

Sylvia remained silent.

“A protégé can stumble, but it’s a mentor’s place to keep them from falling too far,” Idnik added, pushing back her chair and wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I’ll get going. I’ve got some magic research to catch up on. Tell Cielia I said hello.”

“Idnik,” Sylvia called, stopping her just as she was about to leave the restaurant.

With her hand on the restaurant’s doorknob, Idnik paused and glanced over her shoulder—back at Sylvia.

“Cielia is not a fake.”

Idnik remained silent.

“Cielia knows what she is—she’s known that she died long ago.”

On the island of the Voice, the dead were brought back to walk again, unaware that they had already passed—except for Cielia.

For a moment, her expression tensed—then she let out a dry chuckle, shook her head, and replied, “... Knowing Deculein, he would have said something like this.”

Idnik cleared her throat and then mimicked Deculein’s voice.

"’Truth or not, it doesn't make her any less fake.’"

“... Get out.”

With a chuckle, Idnik opened the restaurant door and stepped out.

As Idnik barely took a step down the slope, her heart seized. There was Deculein, leaning against the wall, his blue eyes gleaming, clear even in the darkness, like the eyes of a watching owl.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Deculein inquired, barely turning his head toward Idnik.

“Were you listening in?” Idnik asked.

Idnik found herself momentarily thrown off. Sylvia’s routine hadn’t changed, but Deculein had—not quite the same as the version he was yesterday.

By now, his memories should have been reset, Idnik thought.

A fake who knows he’s a fake. A being who understands he was never whole. What words could I offer to such a poor soul—

“... Hmm?” Idnik murmured, tilting her head at the unexpected words.

“You call these junk? They are real, untouched by Sylvia’s hands or the Voice’s power—genuine objects. I searched a long time for pieces like these.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes—I did a bit of a census here once,” Idnik replied, pulling a brittle sheet of paper from the drawer. “This island spans 1,500.2 square kilometers, and it’s still expanding. As for the population, there are around five hundred thousand.”