A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 130: Fog (3)



Chapter 130: Fog (3)

Chapter 130: Fog (3)

Sylvia's island, the Nameless Island, had grown into a source of immense magical power. It absorbed mana-infused soil drifting around the Floating Islands’ orbit—known as mana soil—turning the entire island into a catalyst meant solely for Sylvia.

Because of this, any magic cast from the Nameless Island could stretch across the continent—to the Empire's depths, its surface, or even distant, ghostly islands.

“... I don’t deserve to be the one to kill her.”

Sylvia listened to Deculein’s words, feeling the weight they carried.

“Yet, she deserves it.”

“... Deserves what?” Sylvia muttered, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.

As if answering, Deculein continued, “She deserves to kill me.”

It felt like a needle pricking her heart, stirring emotions she believed had died long ago.

“What do you think, Idnik?” Sylvia asked in a flat, emotionless voice, each word sounding fragile, as if it could soon break apart.

Idnik, who stood beside her, replied, "Well, it seems that man still has some shred of conscience left."

Sylvia looked up at the sky. Birds filled the air—migratory flocks passing over the island, with Swifty leading at the front.

“Deserves to kill...”

Sylvia deserved to kill him. Even Deculein had admitted it. With her eyes closed, she fell into deep thought, consumed by hatred. The more she learned, the angrier she became. Yet, buried at the bottom of that dark pit was another emotion, scorched and ingrained within her—love.

“Idnik, are Carla and Deculein acquainted?” Sylvia asked.

“Hmm? Ah...” Idnik replied with a faint smile. “There are a few well-known figures in the Magical Realm—Carla, Rohakan, Adrienne, Rodran, Glitheon, Bethan, Rezol, Kaimdal, Gindalf, Rogerio...”

Idnik rested a hand on Sylvia’s head, prompting her to look up with a glare of irritation.

“And you, Sylvia.”

“... Get your hand off my head,” Sylvia said.

“Each of them has some connection to Deculein. Carla and Rohakan, in particular, were once his mentors.”

Whether it was the best way to put it or not, Deculein had ties everywhere. Of course, not all of them were good.

“If you include the former head, Decalane, nearly every mage ranked above Monarch in this realm had links to the Yukline family. Through his numerous sponsorships, even many of the addicts on the Floating Islands were connected to Yukline,” Idnik continued.

Sylvia stayed quiet.

“Such an interesting family, really. They always knew how to draw attention..."

As Idnik finished, Sylvia nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on her spell. She turned her focus back to the distant island across the continent.

***

Carla and Deculein were once a mentor and protégé. Carla, the first mage sent at Decalane’s request, began teaching Deculein, with Rohakan taking over later.

Neither of them managed to accomplish their goals. Carla, who was the same age as Deculein, gave up after two weeks. His abilities were simply too limited. She felt a bit of pity for him but ultimately saw it as his own failure. And she wasn’t wrong.

Carla watched Deculein place his hand on Epherene’s forehead, trying to comprehend the dream.

Then, he clicked his tongue and paused.

Carla tilted her head, curiosity lacing her voice as she asked, “Why?”

“This method will take far too long. Instead...” Deculein murmured, briefly closing his eyes as he tried to command the Wood Steel within the castle. “I’m considering a more fundamental approach.”

Carla’s eyes locked onto Deculein’s head, her focus narrowing on his skull. Something had altered within him, making his brain the Altar’s most desired treasure.

“Deculein, I wonder what you've been through.”

Deculein stayed quiet.

Her eyes swept over his body as she added, "I think you fascinate me. I think I'm quite curious about you."

"What do you mean?"

“I’m curious about how you’ve grown, but I’m even more interested in why you took the blame for Cielia’s death.”

Deculein kept his silence.

“Could it be that you pity Sylvia?” Carla continued. “I heard rumors that you were once her professor.”

A faint twitch crossed Deculein’s brow.

Carla looked up, eyes fixed on the traces of wind magic—clear evidence that someone was watching this space. She knew exactly who it was.

“The Deculein I remember was never normal to begin with.”

Deculein listened in silence. The details Carla shared about his past piqued his interest.

"I wonder if I used to pity you back then, with your limited talent and how you couldn't accept it."

The Deculein Carla remembered from those days was like a nervous little dog, constantly growling and snapping, always ready to lash out at even the slightest hint of attack or mockery.

“But now, there seems to be a spark in your soul. I think I can see it,” Carla mused.

Deculein leaned back in his chair. A spark. The word carried a different weight for him. Perhaps it was Deculein’s flame igniting within Kim Woo-Jin’s soul, or maybe it was Kim Woo-Jin’s flame flickering inside Deculein.

On the second floor of the Ghost Castle...

“I wonder if you have a plan. I really want to wake my brother up soon,” Carla said.

I nodded and replied, “I do.”

I didn’t have a plan ready when Carla asked, but the preparation quickly fell into place and was now finished.

“I wonder how you plan to go about it?” Carla asked.

"... Sometimes, primal force must override comprehension," I replied, glancing around the castle—a grotesque, mystical space that seemed to have taken on a life of its own.

"I wonder what you’re trying to say."

“I’m going to destroy the entire castle.”

Carla let out a small gasp before questioning me again, her tone still filled with doubt as she asked, “I wonder if you have enough mana for that.”

"You will assist," I said.

Carla bit her lip, unsettled by the unexpected demand for cooperation.

“How?”

“I’ve inscribed the entire castle with the Telekinesis spell using my steel. You will supply the mana we need. I will handle the rest.”

I didn’t know exactly how much mana Carla had, but it had to be in the tens or hundreds of thousands. With that level of support, my Telekinesis would reach its full power, enough to cause a small tremor across the continent.

"I will destroy the spirits that have taken over this castle and island," I continued.

The plan was simple—focus all of Carla's vast magical energy within her mana directly into the castle.

Carla looked at me, a faint smile on her lips, and asked, “This castle seems to be made of thousands of souls. Will you end up destroying them all?”

“... Hmph,” I muttered, curling my lips in contempt. “It’s better to die than to exist as these damned spirits.”

“What if they say they don’t want to die?” Carla asked.

It was a deeply human dilemma, but I shook my head and replied, “Even so, they’re nothing more than the cries of the dead.”

Whatever happened to this castle or the souls trapped inside, neither Deculein nor Yukline would ever care. My ego was never bound by the sentimental belief that souls are human.

"Wouldn't this be a massacre? Many mages might criticize you. The Magical Realm already accepts that souls exist," Carla warned.

“Why should I care?”

“... What?”

"It's not my concern."

Why would a soul be considered human? They're nothing but parasites—long dead and buried. Yet, these goddamned creatures have the nerve to drag the living into their twisted nightmares, I thought.

“Yukline does not compromise—never has, never will.”

I never cared about the process. Only the end result mattered. Sentiment and chasing happiness meant nothing to me.

"This place calls for the resolve of a villain, not the mercy of a saint," I concluded.

And I never hesitated to make those choices. Born under the Villain’s Fate, I lived out my role as a true villain.

“I wonder if you'll end up making enemies of ghosts,” Carla said.

I replied to Carla's words with a faint smile, "As if that concerns me."

I knew I would kill countless real people in my lifetime. If they returned as ghosts, driven by hatred or thirsting for revenge, it wouldn’t matter.

"They might cling to your shoulders, sapping your strength little by little, until they leave you worn out too soon," Carla said.

“Hmph. Do you think I’m incapable of dealing with ghosts?”

If they chose to haunt me, so be it. I would crush them relentlessly until their very essence was scattered into nothingness.

"I'll break them down, over and over, until these ghosts are nothing but a fading nuisance."

"... Right," Carla replied, nodding after a pause, then channeled her mana into the ground. "I think this castle made a mistake. A mage as cold as you isn’t one to mess with."

Following the magic circle inscribed by Wood Steel, the Authority’s mana surged forward, fast and relentless like a river in flood. Carla closed her eyes for a moment, and in that instant, her mana swept through the castle.

“I think it's done. Do you really have it under control? It’d be quite embarrassing if you couldn't pull it off after all that talk,” Carla said.

"Have no doubt," I replied, connecting the magic circle, now infused with Carla's mana, directly to my body.

Swoooosh...!

A torrent of mana coursed through me, pushing my limits, but my Iron Man body held strong. I would not falter.

Tap—

At last, like a pebble dropping to the earth, a faint ripple of mana marked the spell's activation. And then came the name, almost laughably out of place—Intermediate Telekinesis.

Ruuuuumble—!

The ground trembled beneath me, a sudden, powerful quake that rattled everything in its wake.


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