A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 260

Chapter 260: Dance with Empress (3)

Epherene held onto Deculein’s back in the corridor of the old mansion, squeezing her eyes shut as she gripped his waist. Strange whispers came from the darkness—words she couldn’t understand, like murmured chants. Then, something cold brushed her neck—like a ghost's fingers slipping by in the dark.

“Hhhhhhhhhh...!” Epherene murmured, her body trembling.

However, as he walked through the corridor, Deculein remained composed, with not a shadow of fear in his eyes.

Thud— Thud—

“Are w-we almost there, Professor? I f-feel like my heart’s g-going to explode,” Epherene asked, her voice shaking as she followed Deculein, frightened even by the sound of his footsteps.

Thud—

At that moment, Deculein stopped, and Epherene thought they had finally arrived, only for another voice to come from the corridor.

“Professor,” said Knight Yulie.

Epherene flinched and opened her eyes.

“The sun has slipped behind the clouds. Is everything well?”

“All is well. But what are you doing here?” Deculein inquired.

“I am on the night’s watch.”

Epherene saw Yulie standing there, a torch in her hand, but she couldn’t tell if it was really Yulie or a ghost wearing her face.

“I imagined that many might still be outside, unable to return to their rooms, with the sun setting so suddenly,” Yulie added.

“Have you seen the signatures on the registration form?” Deculein inquired, tilting his chin and gesturing behind him.

Yulie remained silent.

I’ll take that silence as a yes, Deculein thought.

“Your father’s name was among them. I understand now why Her Majesty spared Zeit the summons, as he would have brought the old mansion crashing down around him. It’s fortunate that it was you instead—so calm.”

“... Please, I ask that you speak no more of my family, or of my house,” Yulie replied, lowering her head.

“You take her,” Deculein said, placing Epherene’s wrist into Yulie’s hand.

“Umm, sorry?” Epherene muttered.

“Yes, Professor,” Yulie replied, accepting Epherene’s hand without another word.

“P-Professor, where are you going?” Epherene asked, blinking up at Deculein from within Yulie’s arms.

“There is a soul I need to find.”

“A soul?” Yulie asked, her expression unmoving.

“Indeed, the souls who died in the Imperial Palace—or whose grudges against it burn unquenched—remain here in this old mansion as ghosts. Souls who cannot accept their own deaths, who have words left for the living, who, though dead, cannot die,” Deculein replied, handing Yulie a book—the one given him by Sophien.

Then Deculein added, “Veron isn’t here, nor is Rockfell, as neither possessed the mental strength to remain—vermin, both of them.”

At that moment, Yulie clenched her teeth, and Epherene observed the tension between them.

“Please go,” Yulie said.

“I ask that you take care of my protégé,” Deculein said.

“I ask that you take care of my protégé.”

Those words struck Epherene straight to the heart, stealing the breath from her lungs for a moment.

“Yes, Professor,” Yulie replied, nodding.

“Oh—Professor, let me come with you—”

"This way,” Yulie said.

“Ohh...”

Yulie dragged Epherene along, and Deculein turned back the way he had come, his silhouette soon lost in the darkness.

“... Protégé,” Epherene muttered, her voice barely a whisper from within Yulie’s arms.

Epherene's fear had faded, and for some reason, her cheeks felt hot, her heart pounding in her chest for reasons she couldn’t name.

***

I walked through the corridor until I found myself somewhere inside the old mansion, but where that was, I couldn’t say. However, following the instincts of the Iron Man, I walked step by step toward the place where the soul I sought awaited, continuing until I arrived—somewhere.

“... So this is where you’ve been,” I said.

Above me, the chandelier swayed overhead, and in the middle of a floor slick with blood, a woman sat alone at a tea table, sipping her tea—as if she had been waiting for me, leaving a seat open just for me.

"Your Majesty, the former Empress."

The former Empress—known to the world as having been murdered by Rohakan—raised her eyes to meet mine, blood still welling from her throat, and the suffocating death seeped beneath me.

“Please, have a seat, Professor Deculein,” the former Empress replied, as if her invitation had been waiting in familiarity for a long time.

I nodded and walked toward her.

“It’s been a while, or have we never met before?”

Have we ever met before? I thought.

The former Empress's greeting was strange and uncertain, but I offered no response and sat down.

“Did Sophien send you to find me?”

I remained silent.

“Or did she not?”

I looked at her in silence, and the former Empress let out a hushed laugh.

“... Sophien,” the former Empress muttered, her eyes dimmed as if the name stirred distant memories. “The monster I gave birth to.”

Crack—!

At that moment, the former Empress’s neck snapped at an impossible angle, her gaze locked onto mine, with blood welling beneath her bloodshot eyes, streaming down like weeping wounds.

“It was that monster who killed me, not Rohakan—but that child... she killed me, her own mother.”

I remained silent.

“She is a monster.”

I listened in silence as the former Empress called her own child a monster, showing no reaction, letting no emotion cross my face.

“Professor Deculein, why do you think I remain here, though I died so long ago? Because I resent the child and cannot forgive the one who killed me? Or because I loathe the child?” the former Empress asked, shaking her head with a bitter smile.

Then the former Empress added, “No, it’s because of Sophien. Sophien must die. That child is a calamity that will destroy this world. Here—she must never be allowed to leave.”

“... Is that so?”

“These are not lies. You, too, must believe my words.”

I looked at the former Empress in silence.

“Even long ago, when I was alive, every time I looked at that child, I felt something unnatural about her, as if perfection had been crafted into her being. Don’t you find it strange that she’s too perfect? Isn’t she?”

Sophien’s appearance seemed the work of a master’s chisel in perfect proportion, born of the imperial bloodline and gifted with a talent that could reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship, magic, governance, scholarship, the military, and the throne—an immaculate and complete human being.

“Could such perfection ever be called human?” the Empress asked, offering me the teacup.

Shhh—

The former Empress poured black tea with elegant grace, but what filled the cup was blood, its iron scent blooming in the air.

“No, never. How could such a child be called human?” the Empress said, answering herself, as if she carried their weight. “For if perfection itself existed in human form—flawless and complete...”

Bang—!

At that moment, the door I had entered slammed shut, and the blood in the teacup swelled upward.

“Then he would stand apart from humanity, and they would call him a God.”

God was a presence that the Altar had always searched for.

“Is that so?” I replied, a slight smile rising on my face.

“Do you believe me?” the former Empress asked, watching me closely.

“No, I do not disbelieve you, nor do I believe you. I regard it only as the statement of Your Majesty, the former Empress.”

To be called perfect—and yet, in my eyes, Sophien bore too many flaws, too many missing, too many broken, and because I saw them, I couldn’t believe what the former Empress had said, nor could I doubt her.

“Then you would still serve Sophien, though it means the end of all things?” the former Empress said, her voice breaking like glass, with tears of blood burning in her eyes. “I am on the side of humankind. If you do not believe me, then the world will not survive!”

“... I understand. At least now, I’ve learned one thing for certain,” I replied, shaking my head as I straightened my clothes and rose from my seat. “The soul Her Majesty seeks is not yours, Your Majesty, the former Empress.”

Fwooooooosh—!

With a thunderous crash, the window shattered, and blood flooded in, rushing like a wild tide that swallowed everything in its path.

Creeeeak—

Thud.

“... Sigh.”

Yulie von Deya-Freyden

The name of the one I’m supposed to protect—how does it make sense to ask a mage to guard a knight, especially someone as strong as Knight Yulie, when I can barely stand my own ground? Epherne thought.

Clink—

If I put myself in their shoes—someone opening my gift, even trying it out before me? I’d be so mad.

This is the mana stone Sylvia said to give to Yulie—if Deculein’s ever in danger and just stands there doing nothing.

Now that I think about it... yeah. One wrong step in a special petition, and you’re basically done for.

“Umm... Ughhhhhhhh...”

Tsssssssssss...