A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 165: Advancement (1)



Chapter 165: Advancement (1)

Chapter 165: Advancement (1)

Seated at the desk in the Head Professor’s office on the 77th floor of the Mage Tower, I conducted endless rounds of cross-validation and meticulous sample analysis, explored the university’s extensive archives, and recalculated and refined my findings.

However, I gave no thought to the possibility that my prediction could be mistaken, as my sole intent was to calculate the difference values across regions.

— Yes, I’ve checked. The mana concentration in the Roharlak soil matches what you expected.

Yeriel’s message came to me through the crystal orb. The collision value in Roharlak was lower than that in the Northern Region, though it doubled over the past nineteen years. Even so, with the combined strength of Hadecaine and Yukline, holding our ground was not a great challenge.

"Leave no stone unturned in securing our defenses," I commanded.

— Yes, of course, but—

“This conversation is over.”

— Wait, what the, just a sec—

Before she could finish, I had already moved on to the next.

— Professor Deculein, this is Bethan. I’ll forward the soil concentration readings to you on message paper shortly.

“Proceed with that,” I replied.

— Yes, Professor. No matter what others may say, I have complete faith in your judgment. Please remember that.

Among the Empire's nobility, some, like Bethan, lent their support, while others held back. The Northern Territories, in particular, showed clear reluctance—a natural response, given the overwhelming costs involved.

“Professor...” Allen murmured from the corner of my office. Dark circles weighed down his eyes, making him look like a panda as he sorted through a stack of papers. “... These are interview requests, conference invitations, and lecture inquiries—all in response to your prediction about the monster wave—”

A move this audacious is sure to stir a tempest of resistance. Were it not for the main quest being set in motion, I might have found myself adrift in a sea of doubt, questioning the outcome at every turn.

"It appears that it will soon exhaust us all," I remarked.

“Yes, Professor... at this pace, we’ll be crossing the continent for at least the next two months...”

I looked through the Mage Tower's glass window, where an endless winter stretched beyond. The sky, a pale and unforgiving expanse, lay like a frozen canvas over the world below.

“I’ll gladly see it done.”

From that point on, the main quest reached a critical turning point. However, the knowledge of my own death, paradoxically, proved advantageous in such circumstances. Whatever happened, one thing was certain—I would survive, at least through that winter.

“Yes... I have faith... in your theory as well, Professor...”

“Allen, have you not slept at all?”

“Sorry? Oh, no, Professor... there’s just been an overwhelming number of inquiries. I haven’t slept in nearly three days...”

“You’re dismissed; go and take your rest.”

"Yes, Professor..." Allen murmured, nodding faintly, already half-lost to sleep.

I gave a cursory glance at the official documents he had brought.

To Professor Deculein, Head Professor of the Mage Tower of the Empire,

We acknowledge receipt of the predictions you recently submitted, which have prompted extensive discourse among the Empire’s nobility. However, it seems these predictions are contributing to considerable disruption across the continent—particularly within the Northern Regions—and are placing substantial financial strain on resources. Therefore...

I read through letters laced with doubt and regretful sentiments, written by the noble families—Dharman, Freyden, Beorad, Essensil, and many others.

***

“Sigh...”

Each day felt like an uphill struggle for Epherene. In the library, the lab, and even in her dorm room, she scrawled her concerns along the edges of her notebook.

What path could have possibly brought Deculein to his end?

Epherene could not recall what events awaited in the future—or perhaps, she had never known them. She scoured libraries, pored over newspapers, and searched wherever she could, but in that future, a lost period remained. Perhaps it was due to the Northern Region, but every record of those events between the second and third years had vanished entirely.

"What could have possibly happened...?"

In the end, Epherene was left with only one indisputable piece of knowledge.

Rohon Merchant Co., Ltd.

For now, they remained small and unnoticed, but Epherene had heard a rumor from the merchants that someday it would rise to great fortune. She was well-versed in snacks and treats, but stocks and trades were a mystery to her. However, convinced that investing would guarantee her fortune, she committed the name of the merchant company to memory.

“But what is this?”

Rohun Merchant Co., Ltd.

Rohom Merchant Co., Ltd.

Rohol Merchant Co., Ltd.

As she sifted through the stocks of various merchant companies, she stumbled upon names like Rohon, Rohun, Rohom, and Rohol—three more that complicated her choices. It was another concern and dilemma that weighed on her mind.

“Maybe I should just invest in all four...”

Epherene carefully checked her paycheck in a small purse. There were four thousand elne. Splitting it into four investments of a thousand each seemed like a reasonable plan. Although her sponsorship funds totaled in the hundreds of thousands, she would never consider using them for something like this.

It was, in part, a matter of pride; and now that she knew Deculein was her mysterious sponsor, she wouldn’t feel comfortable spending a coin until she’d earned his full recognition. Perhaps once she had mastered the Deculein and Luna’s thesis. Only then would she allow herself such a luxury.

At that moment...

“Hey.”

A sharp voice cut through the air, calling her name. Epherene turned, startled, and was taken aback to see a friend with whom she had a strained relationship—Lucia.

"What now? Are you here to pick another fight?" Epherene asked, her eyes narrowing.

Lucia gave a small, sarcastic laugh, shaking her head, and said, “No, I came to congratulate you~!”

"To congratulate me? For what?"

"On your assignment to Rekordak."

Rekordak? Where did that come from all of a sudden? Epherne thought, Epherene thought, wrinkling her face.

“What are you going on about? We’ve already been to the Northern Region,” Epherene replied.

“Yes, I know that,” Lucia replied.

“If you already know, then why bring it up again? I told you—we’ve been there already.”

“... Wait. Are you telling me you really have no idea?”

“No idea about what?” Epherene asked.

"Alright. However, please don’t take this the wrong way—I’m not here just to taunt you. In fact, you know, it’s rather unusual, wouldn’t you agree?"

Yulie sighed, weariness flickering across her face, and replied, "... And what is it you're trying to say this time again?"

Rising slowly, Ihelm shook his head and said, "No one loved you quite like Deculein did. Of course, his love was... let’s say, twisted in its own way. But still, I wonder why he suddenly turned his back on you and—"

The harsh scrape of her grinding teeth broke the stillness around her.

“Now, now—easy, easy,” Ihelm said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Barely containing her anger, Yulie said, “Ihelm. Please, leave. Now.”

"Alright, alright. My apologies. I'll leave now. Ah, but here—take this before I go," Ihelm said, offering her a document.

“... And what might this be?”

“A roster of those assigned for reinforcement.”

Yulie skimmed through the document, and as her eyes scanned the list of names, she leaned in closer, caught off guard by some entries.

"Quite interesting, wouldn’t you agree? They’re even setting up new quarters—a grand mansion, no less."

Alongside familiar names like Gwen, Raphel, and Sirio—knights closely connected to Yulie—the list also included masters among the legendary warriors, such as Jaelon, the Mountaineer, and Yuplait, the Flame Swordmaster, both of whom had reached the very heights of their swordsmanship.

“What is the meaning of all this?”

"What else? Deculein is coming. Even to this borderland, knights from the Imperial Palace and beyond are volunteering, hoping to form connections with him."

“To form connections...”

"Yes. Oh, and did you know? Deculein’s most recent gain in the stock market has amounted to a staggering five hundred million elne—five hundred million."

“Five hundred million...” Yulie murmured, her mouth falling open slightly.

Ihelm noted her reaction and, with a sly smile, remarked, "Why? Are you experiencing a twinge of regret? Here you stand, on the precipice, while your former fiancé ascends to greater heights."

In that instant, Yulie's face hardened, and an aura of mana rose around her like a gathering storm.

"Ihelm, a fourth time will not be tolerated."

“Oh~ ever the soft-hearted one. Most would draw the line at three, but you’re generous enough to consider a fourth. They didn’t call you the White Retriever for nothing.”

"Ihelm, we're at three and a half," Yulie said, her words laced with certainty—a final warning.

With a slight grin, Ihelm rose from his seat and said, "Alright, alright, I’m off. We’ll be spending quite a bit of time together, so I’ll see you around."

“Please, leave now.”

Yulie kept her eyes on Ihelm’s back as he walked away, his hand lifted in a casual wave, watching him intently until he disappeared from sight.

"It seems that so many people are profiting from stocks these days... After all, wealth is needed to protect the borders."

Soon, her focus shifted to the roster of new reinforcements and a few stocks that had recently caught her interest.

***

Before returning to the Northern Region, I stopped by the Imperial Palace for the third game in the best-of-five match series I promised Sophien.

“So, you're headed to the Northern Region again, I hear,” Sophien remarked, dressed unexpectedly in a grand, elegant gown—something regal and reminiscent of a modern Queen Elizabeth, fitting for an Empress.

"Yes, Your Majesty. If I may say, your attire is nothing short of magnificent today," I said.

“Iliade sent it as a gift. Apparently, Glitheon procured it himself.”

“Is that so?”

The name—Giltheon of Iliade—grated on my nerves, but I gave no indication of it.

With a touch of indifference, Sophien remarked, "Anyway, this is our third match... Tell me, are you confident? Should you lose this round, there would be little point in continuing.”

“Not once have I been without confidence, Your Majesty.”

“Hmph,” Sophien muttered with a faint sneer before rising from her seat.

I looked up at her, my eyes carrying a quiet question.

"Come with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied, rising in silence and following her.

As we walked down the corridors, leaving the Hall of Learning behind, Sophien remarked, "You speak with such confidence, and I know there’s no one else on this continent who plays Go like we do. So today..."

Sophien’s heels rang out across the floor as she halted before the doors to the grand hall. Only then did her intent begin to reveal itself to me.

Empress Sophien turned to me and continued, "We’ll hold our match before the assembled officials. Does that seem acceptable to you?"

Without hesitation, I nodded and said, "Yes, that is acceptable. But if I may ask, Your Majesty, are you certain this arrangement is equally acceptable to you?"

“What exactly are you getting at?”

"I am not inclined to hold back simply to protect Your Majesty’s dignity before the officials."

"Is this crazy bastard out of his mind?" Sophien muttered, the curse slipping from her lips almost instinctively. A vein throbbed at her temple. "... Take this as a warning—don’t even think about saving face for me. Give it everything you’ve got, because I fully intend to crush you. You alone on this continent have the strength to match my will."

“Yes, Your Majesty. I regard your words as praise beyond what I deserve, and I will strive to prove myself worthy of them in this match.”

Sophien nodded and pushed open the doors, the hall immediately echoing with the resounding voices of the assembled officials.

“We bow in honor to Her Majesty, Empress Sophien—!”

They bowed low in deference to Sophien. The silent, grand hall held a solitary Go board, with stones placed in quiet anticipation, awaiting the match.

“I’ve brought a professor to demonstrate the art of Go for all of you. He’s stirred the continent with bold statements on the state of our age. Deculein!” Sophien called, her heels echoing sharply through the hall as she strode forward.

I approached with a slight bow and said, “Yes, Your Majesty. Deculein, at your—”

“Enough. Spare me the bullshit and take your seat.”

“... Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied, and with the gathered officials observing intently, I took my place across from her.

With a slight smirk, Sophien faced me and said, "Before this man departs for Rekordak in the Northern Region, we will commence our third match. Officials, record each move carefully and learn with dedication. This, after all, will be the essence of Go—a lesson that I, along with this professor, will demonstrate to you all."

At Sophien’s command, all the officials cried out in unison.

“We remain deeply honored by your favor, Your Majesty—!"

Their voices swelled into a booming chorus, reverberating through the grand hall.


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