A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 141: Training Program (1)

Sophien, the ruler of the Empire, closely examined the Imperial Speech laid out before her. The grand hall was completely still, and she carefully read through each line. It was a stark change from the past when she would quickly lose interest and set the speech aside after only a brief look.

The unexpected change unsettled the ministers, especially Romelock and Cruhan, who led the two main political factions. They exchanged tense glances, clearly disturbed by the sudden shift. Sophien had always been indifferent to matters of governance, leaving the ministers to uphold a façade of balanced rule, though genuine leadership was often absent.

Finally, Sophien declared, "I'm changing the opening line of this speech."

"... Ahem, y-you mean the opening line of the speech, Your Majesty?" one minister responded cautiously, startled by her abrupt decision. The Empress's dismissal of her ministers' input and her willingness to alter the speech on a whim revealed a hint of tyranny.

"That's right," Sophien confirmed.

"Your Majesty, there is nothing wrong with the speech. The opening line was meticulously prepared by both Lord Cruhan and myself," said Romelock, a senior minister in his sixties.

Cruhan nodded in agreement, signaling their temporary alliance, and said, "Indeed, Your Majesty. This is an important speech, prepared with the approval of all the ministers—"

"No," Sophien interrupted, gesturing toward the first line. "We don’t need to list all eight nations on the continent one by one."

The speech opened with a list of the continent's eight nations, beginning with Leoc and concluding with the Principality of Yuren.

"I'll simplify it to just the eight nations."

Though it might appear to be a simple formality, the order of the names held considerable diplomatic weight. For these nations, which one the Empress mentioned first in a public address was a matter of great importance.

"Your Majesty, this cannot be. We urge you to reconsider. The order of the nations represents the historical and diplomatic framework established by the late Emperor," the ministers implored, their voices resonating through the hall.

Sophien pressed a finger to her temple and shook her head, then stated, "Enough. I refuse to be chained to the past. The first line will be changed, and that is final."

The ministers raised objections again, but Sophien swiftly cut them off.

"Enough!" Sophien shouted, standing up. Her commanding presence made the ministers avert their eyes. "My decision is final. The morning session is dismissed."

Without waiting for further protests, Sophien left the hall and made her way back to her chambers. As she walked away, the belated cries of the ministers echoed down the corridor, but she didn’t give a shit.

"... Damn parasites," Sophien muttered as she reached the privacy of her chambers, hurling the speech onto the floor. "I wonder how much dirty bribe money was spent to polish this, or how many favors were pulled to put these lines together."

Nearly every nation on the continent, whether large or small, sent gifts to the Empire—essentially a form of tribute. The real issue was that over seventy percent of these offerings ended up in the ministers' hands, a result of the late Emperor Crebaim's soft-handed approach.

"From this moment on, all of it is mine."

The speech aimed to send a clear message to the continent's nations—bribing the ministers was no longer enough, and their focus should now turn to the imperial household.

Although Sophien was dissatisfied with other parts of the speech, she knew it would be unwise to provoke the ministers too much. They weren’t entirely foolish and could easily find ways to interfere with her plans. Right now, it was better to give them fewer reasons to plot against her. For the time being, it suited her to play the part of a reckless and overbearing ruler.

"Politics... such a tedious game."

Sophien lay sprawled on her bed, the weight of ennui settling over her once more. She stared up at the ceiling, letting her thoughts drift away from politics and return to her own life. Her memories spanned more than a century, marked by countless cycles of death and regress.

In the past, Deculein had risked his life to stay by her side. But lately, Sophien found the emotions he kept hidden to be a growing weight. The sincerity he always professed felt increasingly unsettling.

"... Could he have,"

Sophien couldn’t comprehend why Deculein had refused to rescue Yulie from ruin. It defied logic, leaving her with nothing but a tangle of emotions.

"Actually left his woman because of..."

Human emotions had always been beyond her reach, a kind of madness she could never quite understand. Deculein, in particular, was masterful at masking his true feelings, which only made it more difficult for her.

"Hmm..."

From the edge of her bed, Sophien looked over at the snow globe, watching the tiny flakes swirl inside.

"Keiron, you wouldn’t understand," Sophien murmured. He had spent his life alone, untouched by a woman's companionship. "I just hope that man doesn’t end up being a bother..."

Sophien looked over at the mirror across the room, taking in her reflection. Her beauty was undeniable, celebrated by all throughout the continent.

"Tut."

Even her own reflection seemed to mock her, becoming yet another bother. With a click of her tongue, Sophien reached for a piece of Message Paper connected to Yulie, the knight who had once been her instructor knight.

“I don’t know how things will turn out, but...”

Sophien couldn’t help but feel sorry for Yulie, who in some ways reminded her of Keiron. She also felt a strange pang of guilt, as if she had taken something that rightfully belonged to the knight. Once the current unrest was over, she intended to bring Yulie back to the Imperial Palace.

In the unforgiving Northern Region, where tens of thousands of beasts poured southward each year, lay the Margrave’s domain, a place that had carved the belief in the strength of the people of the Northern Region into the very fabric of the continent.

Within this harsh territory was the hallowed ground of the knights—the plaza of the famed Freyden Knights' Order. It was here that Yulie stood.

“... Knights of winter.”

The main headquarters of the Freyden Knights' Order was home to three hundred knights, but with those stationed across the territory, their numbers grew many times over. Each knight took fierce pride in their allegiance and heritage, and because of this, the looks they cast at Yulie were anything but friendly.

The knights kept sending her disapproving looks as she stood at the back of the line. Though she was a direct descendant of Freyden, she had committed a disgraceful act that no knight, regardless of status, could overlook.

“The southern advance will begin soon,” Zeit declared from the podium in the plaza, intentionally disregarding Yulie. She met his indifference with calm acceptance, as if it were only to be expected.

“When the waves of beasts reach our borders, Her Majesty has promised Freyden of the support it needs. I will station knights at each key location to create an unbreakable line of defense.”

The commanders and Zeit had identified thirteen key locations, and the knights of Freyden could volunteer for any one of them.

“Step forward one by one and announce your decision,” Zeit commanded.

The knight in the front row was the first to step forward, giving Zeit the traditional salute of the Northern Region before announcing his decision to the gathered knights in the plaza.

"I, Griffin, shall prove my courage and determination on the walls of Lohelle," Griffin announced.

None of the locations could be considered easy—all were places where death was likely.

“Griffin, Blood of the Mighty Warriors!”

Therefore, as each knight declared their choice, the others shouted their encouragement, rallying behind their comrades.

“I, Victor, shall stand guard over the villagers at Domon Fortress.”

“Victor, the Knight of the One-handed Sword of Belloris!”

Each knight of Freyden held at least one revered title. While the tradition was often seen as outdated and even ridiculed in the capital, it remained a valued practice that continued to ignite a sense of pride and purpose among the knights here.

“I, Bommas, accept the challenge of the harsh land of Dokunkan!”

“Bommas, the Giant of Gerun!”

The knights made their choices one after another, but one post remained abandoned. Of the eleven remaining strongholds, it was by far the least desirable. It wasn’t passed over because it was too daunting or dangerous; rather, it was intentionally left for the most disgraced knight, offered as a chance for redemption.

Therefore, when Yulia stepped onto the podium, everyone’s attention shifted to her. The earlier roar of the crowd had dwindled, giving way to a thick silence that seemed to weigh on the air.

Without hesitation, Yulie declared, ““I shall take Rekordak.”

Rekordak—a prison for the most dangerous criminals, and a last line of defense against the advancing beasts. With more than eighty percent of its inmates dying within a year, it was nothing less than a living hell. Even so, Yulie stepped forward, determined to face it head-on.

“Understood,” Zeit replied with a firm nod. The knights did not offer any cheers, but the intensity in their stares had eased somewhat. “Knight Deya has announced her decision to take Rekordak.”

Zeit did not bother to call her by name, but Yulie was not the kind of knight to be troubled by such a small disregard.

“Yes,” Yulie said.

As Yulie stepped down from the podium, she met the knights' stares. Their expressions showed a range of emotions—resentment, disdain, disappointment, sorrow, anger, and even betrayal. She took it all in without faltering. After everything that man had put her through, this felt like nothing more than a passing ordeal.

“After one month of training, you will depart for your assigned posts. Until then, dedicate yourselves to honing your skills,” Zeit commanded, his tone carrying weight without needing to be raised.

“Yes, sir!” the knights of Freyden answered in unison, their voices resonating with the strength and reverence owed to a king.

***

The Imperial University was now in the midst of midterms, but since I didn’t assign any exams in my classes, my responsibilities as a professor were mostly limited to reviewing my research assistants' thesis papers.

"Hey, how come your car's so much nicer than mine? We have the same brand," Ihelm muttered from the passenger seat as we headed back to the Yukline mansion.

I quietly took out a book—Blue Eyes, a bestselling novel Sophien had given me.

Snow blanketed the capital in thick, silent drifts, though the season had only just begun...

“What purpose does this serve?”

As I started reading, Ihelm kept playing with his seatbelt, pulling it in and out with a soft click each time. I had personally overseen the seatbelt's design; after all, safety features were still a new concept in this world. Besides, there weren’t enough cars around for accidents to be a common concern.

Click. Stretch— Click. Stretch—

“Is this some sort of enchanted device?” Ihelm asked, his constant tugging on the seatbelt and letting it snap back beginning to grate on my nerves.

I put the book down and said, “Why can’t you just shut your mouth?”

Ihelm shrugged and said, “You could at least explain what it’s for.”

With a touch of Telekinesis, I secured his seatbelt in place.

Ihelm let out a choking sound and said, “Ah, I see. It’s a restraint, meant for transporting prisoners, isn’t it?”

I didn’t bother giving him an answer.

“Hmm. It feels a bit loose. Shouldn’t there be a more refined magical approach to it?”

I didn’t see any reason to correct him. If he wanted to imagine himself a prisoner for catching a ride uninvited, that was fine by me.

“Hmm? Look, isn’t that Leaf over there?” Ihelm said, pointing out toward the window.

Up ahead, Epherene waddled like a penguin with a backpack, a few boxes floating behind her like obedient pets. It was a curious display of Telekinesis.

Ihelm gave a chuckle as he rolled down the window and called out, “Hey!”

“Ah!” Epherene exclaimed, jumping back in surprise like a startled cat. “What do you want?!”

“Just saying hi. Is there any need to be so startled?”

“What’s wrong with you... Oh, professor?” Epherene said. She had been scowling at Ihelm but then noticed me and tilted her head curiously. “Are you two traveling together?”

“Yes, we’re headed in the same direction. And you, Leaf? Where are you off to?” Ihelm asked.

“... Just sending my things ahead. I got accepted, you know,” Epherene said, giving Ihelm a sharp glare, her eyes practically blazing with intensity.

Whether it was Ihelm's doing or not, the nickname Leaf had recently caught on for Epherene. Even Allen seemed on the verge of calling her that. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Accepted? Where?”

Epherene hesitated at that, casting a nervous glance my way as she scratched the back of her neck.

“What do you mean, accepted to what?” Ihelm pressed.

“The Yukline mage training program...” Epherene muttered quietly.

“Hmm? Oh, that program? I thought it was still being reviewed.”

“I got pre-approved.”

“Pre-approved?” Ihelm repeated, casting a glance in my direction.

The Yukline training program for continental mages was held each winter on Lake Island, deep in Yukline territory. It accepted only the most promising mages from universities across the continent, with renowned mentors brought in to instruct them—or at least, that’s what Yeriel had told me. Still, I hadn’t expected Epherene to be among the chosen.

“It seems your professor has a strong preference for you, securing your early acceptance as if through nepotism,” Ihelm said with a smirk.

“W-what? It wasn’t nepotism that got me accepted,” Epherene protested, clearly flustered.

Ihelm grinned at her flustered reaction and asked, “By the way, Leaf, have you completed all your midterms?”

“Not yet. I’ve still got about half left, but they’re nearly perfect scores,” Epherene replied. “And I told you, stop calling me Leaf!”

“Oh, really? Perfect scores, you say?”

“... Yes.”

“And how long is the training program set to last?”

“They say it’s supposed to last a week, isn’t that right, professor?” Epherene asked, glancing at me.

I chose not to respond and simply rolled up the window.

Epherene stared at me through the glass, clearly taken aback, but the truth was, I didn’t know much about the program myself and didn’t want to admit it.

Ihelm said, “By the way, Deculein, have you arranged the mentors for the training program yet?”

Yeriel had asked me to help with that. Although nothing was set in stone, it didn’t seem like it would be too challenging. With connections like Rogerio, Gindalf, and Louina, finding suitable mentors shouldn’t be an issue.

"Hey, I see you're still missing a few mentors. Would you like me to assist?" Ihelm remarked, his tone carrying a hint of arrogance.

I gave him a sharp look.

Ihelm smirked and went on, “But there’s just one condition—explain why you didn’t save Yulie—aaah!”

I cut him off without hesitation, swinging the car door open and shoving him out.

***

... I finally began recruiting mentors. This was a Yukline training program, after all, and stacking the roster with names like Relin and Siare would only damage my reputation. Rogerio was the first on my list. I arranged for her to come in under the guise of a student consultation.

"Rogerio, would you be willing to serve as a mentor for the Yukline training program?" I said.

"Hmm...? ... Ah, hahahaha," Rogerio chuckled, her posture shifting into a laid-back arrogance as she folded her arms and crossed her legs. "Umm, but ya know, I been wicked hahd up for time lately—"

"Rogerio, as you’re undoubtedly aware," I interjected, "I have the authority to remove students from my class at my discretion."

Rogerio's eyes narrowed to a slit, but I returned the look with unshaken composure.

Soon, her smile turned into a cold smirk as she asked, "Haha. That’s s’posed to be a threat, or what?"

I remained silent, drawing the student roster from the drawer and gripping a red pen in one hand. The sight of it made her composure slip.

“... I already told ya, I ain’t got no time. Didn’t ya say it’s a week-long thing?”

"The next lessons in my course will focus on the pure utilization of Categories. It will be much more demanding than anything we've covered so far, but the knowledge gained will be well worth it."

A bead of sweat formed on Rogerio's temple as she swallowed hard, her throat visibly tightening. I slowly drew the pen toward the paper, knowing that one red line would be enough to cross her off the list. Her eyes widened, and a trickle of sweat slid from her brow down to her jaw.

Just as the tip of the red pen touched the paper, Rogerio lunged in and snatched the pen right out of my hand.

"Awright, awright! Ya ain't gotta go pullin' these cheap stunts!" Rogerio said.

I suppressed a smile, gave a firm nod, and said, "Good. Let's proceed with signing the contract."

Louina was up next.

"Sure, why not," Louina said.

She agreed to the terms I laid out right away, without any negotiation or hesitation. There wasn’t a moment’s delay.

"These terms are satisfactory to some extent."

"... Is that right?," I said.

“Yes, I’ll see you at the training program, then,” Louina said with a bright smile as she rose from her seat. “I need to get back to my research, so I’ll take my leave.”

Louina started to walk away but then stopped and glanced back.

“Oh, and boss, you should be taking care of yourself, so you don’t end up getting worse...”

The third person I turned to was Gindalf, and I had a special offer in mind for him—money, of course.

“Hmm... I’m not so sure about this,” Gindalf murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You know, an old man like me doesn’t have all the time in the world...”

Though he was still hesitant, I placed a tortoise on the table—crafted from the finest Diamond Mana Stone, renowned as the rarest of its kind.

Gindalf cleared his throat with a loud cough, then, after a brief pause, slipped the tortoise into his pocket.

“Alright," Gindalf said. “You’ve certainly proven your dedication, and I suppose I owe you for past mistakes. I’ll accept this as a gesture of goodwill between Yukline and myself!”

Gindalf chuckled warmly as he signed his signature on the contract.

***

Three days later, as midterms entered their final stretch, Epherene arrived at the Mage Tower, a cup of coffee in hand. Nearing the bulletin board, she was taken aback by the large crowd gathered around it.

"... What’s going on?" Epherene murmured.

The board at the Mage Tower, usually filled with training schedules, programs, missions, and requests, was now surrounded by a lively crowd of mages. Curious, Epherene moved in for a closer look and spotted a few familiar faces among them.

"Hey, Leafie!"

It was Julia, who had recently started calling her Leafie instead of Ephie. Lately, because of Ihelm's teasing, others had begun to refer to her simply as Leaf.

Epherene—or rather, Leaf—sighed heavily and said, "... Can you please just call me Ephie?"

“Oh? Sure, Ephie!"

“But what brings you here? ... Oh, and Lucia’s here too,” Epherene said.

Lucia, a mage from a prestigious family who had a complicated history with Epherene, stood off to the side, blankly scanning the announcements on the board.

Julia explained, "Oh, you remember the Yukline training program from earlier? They just posted the list of mentors."

"Yeah, and?"

Epherene had already received an early acceptance notice, likely due to Deculein’s influence.

"What do you mean, and?" Julia said, her expensive artifact clattering as she pointed at the board. "Just look at the mentors on that list—it’s unbelievable."

Epherene glanced over the list. Deculein’s name appeared at the top, as expected. But the others took her by surprise—Rogerio, Gindalf, Louina, Ihelm, even Astal the Addict and an elder from Berhert.

Epherene gasped in disbelief and asked, "W-what?! An elder from Berhert is actually coming?"

"Seriously, right? That’s why everyone’s freaking out."

"The Great Elder Drjekdan?!"

"No, no, not the Great Elder, just a regular elder."

"Oh..."

This was nothing short of extraordinary—an opportunity that even the most skilled commoner mages might never see in their lifetime. It was no wonder the Mage Tower was in such a frenzy.

"That's why the entire Mage Tower is so chaotic," Julia went on. "If they could sell those spots, each one would easily go for hundreds of thousands of elne."

"Hundreds of thousands?"

"Yeah, you're so lucky, Ephie. You got in during the early round, right? I'm so jealous."

At that moment, Epherene felt the weight of several eyes shift toward her. The attention made her skin prickle, as though she were being stalked by hungry predators.

"Uh, Julia, I should get going..." Epherene whispered, letting out a quick cough before getting quietly slipped away from the crowd.

“... Heh.”

Yet, despite the tense atmosphere, a surprising lightness filled her steps.

"Hehehehe! Heeheehee~"

With a light bounce in her step, Epherene seemed to glide down the corridor of the Mage Tower.