A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 267: Magical Expo (1)

Deep inside the Imperial Palace library, I was organizing records about an old mansion.

Cursed Old Mansion

◆ A cradle of souls, possessing an intellect comparable to that of a human. It appears to offer sanctuary to spirits weighed down by unresolved regrets. Though its ultimate purpose remains unknown, it warrants continued observation for both research and possible application…

Just two lines of explanation were given. Everything after that was filled with magic circles and spells—magical interpretations and dismantling that broke down the mana concentration and phenomena inside the old mansion.

Any competent mage would understand well enough, I thought.

“Librarian, see that this is archived as well,” I said.

“Yes, Professor,” Librarian Lexil replied, shelving my recorded document among the library’s shelves with a smile. “… I am glad that the trouble passed as it did.”

“You mean the old mansion?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Behind the Imperial Palace, the old mansion still stood, and with it, the souls of Iggyris and Decalane continued to remain there.

“It may be too soon to be glad. The cradle of souls is a dangerous place, and the souls of the dead were never meant to belong with the living.”

“I fear such matters lie well beyond the reach of my understanding.”

“Consider it a momentary thought passing through the room.”

Sirio, Jaelon, and the remaining followers of the Altar were imprisoned in the underground prison beneath the Imperial Palace. It was a testament to the authority of Archmage Adrienne, and none of them showed any resistance.

However, the old mansion wasn’t tied to any quest, so there was no special reward. Of course, the outcome spoke for itself—I had obtained Decalane’s Study of Art Magic.

───────

[Study of Art Magic]

◆ Description

:An essence of the Study of Art Magic, penned by Decalane of House Yukline.

◆ Category

:Unique Secret Codex

───────

The Study of Art Magic, bound in mana and leather hardcover, was Decalane’s creation and he was a mage who had reached the pinnacle of the Ductility category. Decalane’s artifacts transcended art—they were treasures coveted by nobles across the entire continent. Therefore, even with full Comprehension, it was beyond what I could master in my current state.

However, the idea that Deculein’s category talent was limited to Manipulation was a thing of the past.

I tore open the Category Talent Selection and chose the Ductility category without hesitation. But nothing happened. Maybe because Ductility and Manipulation were similar categories—there was no burning pain, no spark of realization. Just a single system notification appeared.

[‘Ductility’ has been added to the category of talents.]

At that moment, someone approached and sat down right in front of me.

“But, Professor,” Epherene said, casting Silence around us. “So, Her Majesty’s body was shaped by that self-proclaimed God, right? He carved it himself or something?”

Epherene, who had heard everything from Decalane at the old mansion, was brimming with curiosity.

I don’t understand why Decalane chose to tell her all that—things she never needed to know, I thought.

“Might that be the reason Her Majesty holds such deep loathing for the Scarletborn?”

“It’s an instinctive form of loathing,” I replied.

“Sorry?”

“Even if Her Majesty’s body was shaped by that God, Her Majesty is not Him, but a soul of her own.”

This moment could easily be seen as one of the many branches of the main quest—and among them, a particularly unique one.

In most main quests, God created His own body and descended into it—a vessel shaped by Himself. But since the branch diverged, even He must adapt to the change, I thought.

“In other words, if Her Majesty is to survive, He must be broken. Both the expedition to the Land of Destruction and the oppression of the Scarletborn are manifestations of that instinct—the will to live,” I added.

“Hmm… I get the expedition to the Land of Destruction, but why the Scarletborn? I don’t think every member of the tribe is evil. Even within the Empire, there are criminals in every corner.”

“It’s because of the Scarletborn’s faith. Like the Altar, they worship the God of the Holy Era—and they too believe in the prophecy—that one day, He will descend again.”

“… Aha,” Epherene muttered with a nod, a smile curling on her lips as her hands slipped into her inner pocket. “Oh, that’s right, Professor—take a look at this.”

Epherene proudly held out an application form she had brought with her.

“I’ve been granted eligibility for the Elite Guard of Her Majesty, the Empress. All that’s left is to complete this form and submit it. Knight Delic even said that Her Majesty wishes for me to join, hehe!”

Epherene looked at me like she’d just won the lottery, her confidence overflowing, and I took the application form from her without a word.

And then…

“… Oh?!”

Riiip—!

Then I tore it in half and Epherene reached out in a panic, but it was too late—the form had already gone up in flames.

“Noooo—wait! W-Why are you doing this?!”

“That is not an order meant for someone like you.”

“… What did you just say?”

“There will be war, and when it comes, the Elite Guard will not spare children, women, or the old,” I said, watching Epherene with a sour expression.

Epherene remained silent.

“Epherene, do you think you could do the same?”

Then Epherene’s lips curled inward as she bit back whatever she was about to say, and the expression she made was honestly comical.

“Of course I will—without question. I’ve killed too many already, and I’ve come too far to turn back. To hesitate now, for the sake of morality, would be a lie I have no right to tell.”

I glanced at the Wood Steel floating above Epherene’s shoulder, the one I had given her now completely dyed in her ashen color, ignoring my command as if I were a stranger.

“However, you are not that kind of mage, Epherene.”

Epherene’s eyes faintly trembled.

“You’re not a mage who kills others, Epherene,” I concluded.

Epherene lowered her head in silence, scratched the top of her head awkwardly, and cleared her throat.

“Well, that’s… Oh, by the way,” Epherene muttered, then, as if something had just clicked, she handed me a crystal orb. “Here—take this. I figured out how the pocket watch works.”

Then, holding the wooden pocket watch in her hand, Epherene added, “That crystal orb is linked to mine. So promise me that you will keep it with you—for at least three years. No matter what, three years.”

“Why three years?” I inquired.

“That’s how long the crystal orb lasts.”

“You bought the cheap one.”

“I haven’t the money for anything better, anyway,” Epherene said, setting her crystal orb on top of the pocket watch. “Hoooo…“

As I watched, Epherene took a deep breath, channeled her mana into the pocket watch, and slowly, her ashen mana seeped into its core.

Then, soon after…

“… Do you hear me?”

Epherene spoke through the crystal orb, but nothing echoed back into mine.

— I do hear you.

Instead, it wasn’t me who answered—my voice, not from the present, received her words and replied on its own.

“Augh—!” Epherene screamed, her body trembling hard as pale foam bubbled from her lips.

“It’s clear enough. You’ve figured it out, clearly—but the side effects are far too excessive,” I replied with a nod.

“… It’s just that the effect is only that strong with you, Professor. For an ordinary person, it would only use a bit of mana during conversation.”

“Then perhaps you should’ve invested in stocks—and become rich.”

Then Epherene’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a daze as her nostrils flared, wearing the look of someone who had just unlocked every secret in the universe.

“… Has the thought of such never crossed your mind?” I inquired, disbelief evident in my voice.

Scraaape—

“Oh… I… Umm… I should be going now!” Epherene said, scrambling to her feet before dashing off in a hurry, giggling like a lunatic as she hopped, as if she had springs in her boots.

Watching Epherene walk away, I gave a shake of my head and turned my eyes back to the Study of Art Magic. As expected, even Decalane’s table of contents felt demonic—twisted from the very first page.

1. A Living Organic Circuit Discovered in the Depths of Demonic Origin

***

… Barely a week had passed since the Empire was attacked, and before the shock had even faded, Empress Sophien made the Altar’s existence official—and declared them enemies of the Empire.

The Altar, a cult once hidden in the shadows, had surfaced at last, and as a result, the Empire rushed to install gas chambers in Scarletborn concentration camps. Hatred toward both the Scarletborn and the Altar ignited, shared by nobles and commoners alike.

The most dangerous religious terrorist in history attacked the Imperial Palace without warning.

Hundreds of eunuchs and attendants were killed or wounded. A section of the Imperial Palace was left in total ruin. (Photo)

Empress Sophien has declared martial law throughout the Empire and warned of a massive counterstrike…

“Woah, that’s serious. This could turn into a war,” Gerek said.

“Seems like it,” Arlos replied, letting out a yawn as she set the newspaper down.

“By the way, what’s going on with that delivery of yours?”

“About the puppet?”

“Yeah, isn’t that the one where God is going to be inside it?”

“I don’t know. I just built it, delivered it, and that’s it.”

Arlos, a master of Puppetry, poured everything into crafting a body for God—a masterpiece—and in the end, she delivered it to the Altar.

“Maybe they didn’t like it, or maybe they still haven’t found the lubricant in time. I don’t know yet, but I am going to see it corrected.”

If God ever tried to dominate the continent through that body, much of the blame would fall on Arlos, and that was why the adventurer team had been formed in the first place.

“… But what are you trying to do in this underground?” Gerek asked with a chuckle.

Just as Gerek had said, Arlos had made the underground city of the Yuren Kingdom the base of the adventure team.

“It’s better than the Floating Island,” Arlos replied.

Yuren was an interesting city—above ground, a paradise of soaring towers and breathtaking skylines, while below, a mechanical and mysterious world, as if designed by dwarves, complete with an artificial sun that rose at noon and set by three.

“Everything’s cheap, and even piracy’s legal,” Arlos added with a chuckle, gesturing to the tomes on the desk.

Deculein : The Magic of Probability (Pirated Version)

Deculein : Interpretation of Collision Values (Pirated Version)

Deculein : Proper Understanding of Circuit Calculations and Spells (Pirated Version)

The tomes here were pirated versions—each worth hundreds of thousands of elne if bought legally, stripped of any respect for intellectual property rights. If the Floating Island ever found out, they’d probably pass out on the spot. But there was no helping it. This was the Ashes, after all—the place the Mage Tower curses as the damned Volcano.

However, this was a nation nestled deep within a dormant volcano in Yuren’s mountains, surviving by its own chaotic rhythm and strange sense of order, where rights were optional—followed or ignored depending on the day.

“But, Arlos—have you heard? Deculein’s coming to Yuren. We might get to see him.”

“Deculein’s coming to Yuren?” Arlos replied, her brow furrowing.

“The one you’re competing in—the Magical Expo. Word is, Deculein’s coming to check it out himself.”

The Magical Expo was exactly as its name suggested. Magic from the Floating Island flowed down to the continent, while nations and Mage Towers alike proudly displayed and compared their achievements.

Even mages without names or backgrounds could showcase their creations and earn sponsorship. It was a rare opportunity for the overlooked—a place where anyone could rise. This year, the Magical Expo was set to take place in Yuren, and Arlos participated, hoping to attract a sponsor.

“… Hmm, then I suppose I’ll need to make preparations.”

“What preparations?”

“Deculein wouldn’t make a move without purpose. Perhaps he must have heard something worth coming for.”

Creak—

At that moment, the door to the adventure team creaked open, and both Gerek and Arlos turned toward it.

“A visitor?”

Three strangers stepped in—clearly not from the Ashes, judging by the way they held themselves. Without a word, they walked forward and slammed a poster onto the table.

“Wanted criminal, ten million elne if you bring me before the expo,” one of the strangers said.

Seems like they’re trying to bring things under tight control before the expo…

Arlos glanced at the portrait on the poster and then nodded with a smile.

“Do you recognize this face?”

“I do,” Arlos replied.

“… You do?”

“Yes.”

Arlos recognized the face on the poster, and more than that, she understood exactly how it had been assembled.

“That’s a puppet I made. Looks like the Altar has already put it to use,” Arlos added.

***

No matter what shook the continent, the Floating Island didn’t flinch, neither moving nor trembling, as though it existed outside of consequence. The Magical Expo was the clearest example. No matter what the Empire did or how urgent the situation, once the expo was scheduled, it would proceed without delay—and the Mage Tower was no different.

Even now, all these magic experiments conducted across the university grounds are being prepared for the expo, I thought.

“What do you think of the project we prepared?!” Epherene asked.

That’s how major the event was—recognized by Mage Towers across the continent. Of course, Epherene of the Mage Tower of the Imperial University participated as part of a team.

“It’s an aircraft!”

Epherene was beaming as she shouted, clutching a stock certificate in one hand, seeming that she’d taken my advice.

“It takes to the skies without a single step of the runway. If we get it into production, it’ll be a massive hit!”

Epherene’s team had built a mana stone-powered aircraft—one capable of flight as soon as someone climbed aboard. They were presenting it now, asking me to judge it for the competition.

“Umm… What do you think, Professor? Does it meet your standards?” Relin asked cautiously.

“It’s dreadful,” I said, shaking my head.

“Sorry?! Which part?!” Epherene asked, her eyes going wide and blinking in disbelief.

Julia and Maho, who were on the same team as Epherene, looked just as stunned.

“First, it has no safety mechanism, and…” I replied, kicking the engine where the mana stone pulsed in place.

Bang—!

And it crumpled in on itself.

“Even a passing bird could knock it to pieces.”

I scoffed and walked past, the gesture clear in its unimpressed manner, while the other professors glanced my way, waiting to see how I would respond.

“There’s no need to hold back your judgment,” I said. “Although she may be under me in name, if she falls short, I’ll relieve her without hesitation.”

Only then did the professors find their voices, each pointing out what had gone wrong—and what had gone right.

“If you’re so sure of yourself, why don’t you become a professor? Huh?! Since when does an assistant professor dare to speak that way?!” Relin said.

Epherene talked back, but was immediately scolded by Relin.

It was a healthier outcome as a mage, for it was far more valuable to grow through honest correction and advice than to hide behind Deculein’s shadow and receive nothing but fear or flattery.

At that moment, someone called to me from the shadow of the Mage Tower with a voice almost a whisper, but it struck my ear with perfect clarity.

“Deculein, meow.”

It was a red-furred munchkin cat—none other than Sophien herself.

“May I ask what brings Your Majesty here?” I asked.

“Because of that attack on the Empire, I can’t so much as step outside, meow. Getting out is twice the nightmare of getting in. Damn it, meow,” the red-furred munchkin said while nuzzling into my arms, brushing my nose with its tail. “So keep this cat until then and bring it along to the expo.”

“The expo, Your Majesty?”

“Indeed, you are heading to the expo, aren’t you?”

“May I ask if there’s a particular reason?”

“Creáto will be presenting his invention at the expo. Meooooow,” the red-furred munchkin muttered, trembling from the cold. “I promised him I’d attend, and I should, as he is my only sibling. And there’s no telling when the Altar might be planning something.”

“… Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied.

As soon as those words left my mouth…

Booooooom—!

A sudden explosion echoed through the air, and Sophien and I turned toward the source.

“Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!”

It was Epherene’s aircraft—it had exploded.

“… But your protégé really drops the ball at the strangest times,” the red-furred munchkin said.

“No, no—what’s going on? It worked fine during the demo! Arghhhhh—! Somebody—help!”

At the Empress’s words, all I could do was nod in silence.

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