A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 208: Rohakan’s Words (2)

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[Endurance]

◆ Grade

: Rare

◆ Description

: The mental and physical aspects are enhanced, granting the strength to endure.

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The attribute’s description was simple, requiring no further thought. The sensation was faint yet noticeable, and the world itself seemed clearer—at least, that was how it felt to me.

“Are you going in alone?” Primien asked.

I gave a silent nod in response.

“Perhaps it would be better to wait for reinforcements to arrive—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The vineyard had become a magical space in an instant, with the vines and trees pulsing with unnatural life, swaying like living creatures. More than anything, the mana concentration had escalated by over one percent. Given that even the most prestigious mountain barely held 0.1%, what lay beyond was no longer part of the reality I knew.

Clack—

“Oh my, saying there’s no need for us? That’s quite disappointing to hear, brother-in-law~” Josephine said with a graceful smile as she approached, the click of her heels sounding out of place against the earth as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Lord Zeit will arrive soon, so do be patient just a little longer.”

“Even Count Freyden would have no means to handle this,” I said, shaking my head without so much as a glance.

"... My, what a delightful thing to say. I’m sure the Count will be absolutely pleased to hear that~"

Of course, Zeit was a perfect knight, but in matters of magic—and the mental strength this space would test—he could not outmatch me.

"This space cannot be broken by mere force. Without an understanding of magic, one would serve no purpose other than a hindrance."

"Oh my, brother-in-law~ You’re the only one who would ever call our family head a hindrance."

"I alone am enough—no, it is better this way. This is Her Majesty’s decree, entrusted to me alone."

"Hmm... just make sure you come back alive, won’t you?"

Without a word, I moved forward alone. The vineyard had long since become a forest, its looming trees swallowing the sky whole. The haunting landscape was enough to stir fear in any human heart—but I paid it no mind.

One step.

Another.

I walked forward at a steady pace. The branches overhead cast deep shadows, while the wind, thick with mana, brushed along the edges of my robes. The presence of the magical space pressed against my senses, and with every step, mist curled up from the ground. That dense fog soon stretched like a silver veil, flickering with glimpses of memory.

As I walked through the vineyard, the scenes unfolded before me, playing out like echoes of a distant memory.

“... Knight Yulie.”

In the underground of Marik, Deculein had once undertaken a challenge, seeking his father Decalane’s recognition by retrieving the Mana Core he had ordered. With Yulie as his escort, he delved deep into Marik. But there, he was met with an unexpected sudden attack.

"Yes, I’m fine, Professor."

Yulie ran through the dark underground, her body battered and bleeding, yet she bore Deculein on her back, pressing forward.

“There is no need to worry. The exit is near."

Yulie staggered forward, blood spilling from her lips as she carried Deculein, pushing herself beyond her limits and holding desperately to the last threads of her strength.

However...

"... This is on you."

Deculein placed the blame on her, and to that, Yulie replied.

"Yes. I apologize, Professor. It’s all my fault."

Then, Deculein lost consciousness, and time rewound a little further.

Deculein lay upon a cold, barren infirmary bed with Decalane standing over him. It was a memory I had never seen before.

"Tsk. Pathetic."

At his father’s contempt, Deculein quietly closed his eyes.

“I never expected anything from you to begin with... and now Freyden is proving to be causing trouble.”

“... Freyden.”

As Deculein muttered under his breath, another look of disappointment from Decalane bore down on him.

"Yes. Freyden was behind the attack on Marik. I told you from the beginning—they would interfere and become an obstacle."

Deculein remained silent.

"You thought relying on Freyden’s bloodline would solve everything? Hah. That great house of the frontier, already armed with a man like Zeit—do you really think they would welcome a child born at the cost of his mother’s life? Take this."

Decalane tossed something his way without a second glance.

"This is the bracelet Iggyris gave his daughter. It seems that girl gladly accepted it, yet it was that very gift that allowed them to track your whereabouts and launch their attack."

The bracelet Yulie had worn in Marik—the one she had cherished for reasons unknown—was now corroded by demonic energy, its metal rusted and worn. Deculein stared at it in silence.

"That mad hound of Freyden is the real problem. Never mind that he forced an attack on Marik, ready to abandon his own daughter—now, he’s the one cornered, both mentally and circumstantially. It wouldn’t be surprising if he ran straight to the Imperial Palace and laid everything bare."

“... Father.”

As Decalane continued, lost in his own words, Deculein asked him a single question—the one thing his father had never thought to ask his son.

"Are you glad that I survived?"

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A heavy silence settled over the infirmary with Decalane looking down at Deculein, and Deculein met his eyes from below. Then, at last... a slow sigh, weighted with disappointment.

"How foolish. You are the first Yukline to collapse in Marik."

Decalane turned away, shaking his head as he left.

At that moment, Deculein made a silent vow, steeling himself—then, unexpectedly, he smiled. Life and death within his own bloodline meant nothing for Decalane. Whether taking a life or losing one, it was simply the way of Decalane, the way of Yukline.

... And just like that, the first memory faded into the mist, and I continued walking the path through the vineyard.

“A timeline, is it?” I muttered.

No, this was not just any timeline—I was walking the timeline of Deculein. The memories tangled beyond the mist, the uninterrupted flow of time unfolding like a film—every fragment was a trace of the road he had walked, drawing me deeper into his fate...

“I will kill your husband, Glitheon!”

Between the looming grapevines, a second memory unraveled, playing another glimpse into the past.

“And that damn daughter you so dearly love! Every last one of them will die by my hand!”

Deculein, his hands tightening around Cielia’s throat—Sylvia’s mother—slowly choking the life out of her.

Drip— Drip, drip—

Like rain pounding from the heavens, every wave of emotion hammered against his heart—and the moment when Cielia took her final breath...

"... So, is this the satisfaction you desired?"

Then, another shadow approached from behind.

“Deculein.”

It was Glitheon. At the sight of Cielia’s lifeless body, his face hardened, and for the briefest moment, a flicker of sorrow in his eyes. But just as quickly, that sliver of humanity faded, swallowed by the cold detachment of a mage.

"Even if you hadn’t done it, she wouldn’t have lived another six months."

Deculein remained silent.

"With this, it is sealed, Deculein."

Glitheon extended a hand to Deculein, but he did not take it. Instead, he brushed back his rain-drenched hair, straightened his disheveled attire, and replied with a question.

"... Glitheon. You must know well that a mage’s contract is sealed in blood."

"I know. I will aid you in killing Decalane. And by oath, this secret will remain buried..."

"... So, it was a clandestine pact," I muttered.

I continued through the vineyard when memories of Deculein—ones I had never known—began seeping into me, stretching back to his earliest years. With mental strength and a compulsion for organization, I categorized them, keeping Deculein’s past and Kim Woo-Jin’s separate, ensuring they did not blur into disorder.

At that moment...

“Knock, knock. Professor. Are you there?”

The voice rang through the vineyard of timelines, carrying a weary emptiness, devoid of any desire to live. I turned to face her—the woman with striking red hair that commanded attention.

“Sophien,” I muttered.

The young Empress, Sophien, lay stretched out on the grass, calling for the professor.

“Professor?”

Yet, the professor who should have answered her call was...

“Yes, Your Highness. I am here.”

Me, or rather, my voice flowed from the mirror resting beside Sophien.

“... I see. But oddly enough, I seem to be lasting longer this time, don’t I?”

Young Sophien murmured, and the memory was one I didn’t recognize. It belonged neither to Deculein nor to me—a fragment from an unknown timeline.

"Professor, how many deaths have I endured?"

"One hundred forty-nine times, Your Highness."

“Hmm... Today is December 31st, which means tomorrow will be January 1st.”

“Yes, Your Highness. If you can endure until tomorrow, you may find yourself fully cured.”

“Hmph. What nonsense.”

I listened in silence, my steps through the vineyard already came to a halt.

"Your Highness."

Suddenly, a voice—my own, yet unfamiliar—sank into a low, hollow timbre. Its resonance carried no heartbeat, no pulse, only the stillness of a heart that had ceased to beat.

“What is it?”

Sophien, tilting her head innocently, asked again.

“I will be watching over Your Highness, no matter where or when.”

“... That’s rather sudden, don’t you think?”

“It isn’t sudden, Your Highness.”

Sophien remained silent.

“Even if I’m out of sight for a time... I will always be with you on your journey.”

In the middle of the conversation and the developing scene, a realization came to me—belated yet undeniable.

"Professor, are you saying you plan to leave but have no true intention of doing so?"

The independent quest Demon’s Mirror had come to an abrupt end, and from it, the attribute that became my Origin—Mirror.

"... Your Highness, may I ask one favor of you, as I once upheld my promise to you?"

As I listened to those words spoken by a version of myself, I fell into thought.

"From now on... no matter what happens, you must not take your life by your own choice."

What cycle of this world am I in?

"... Oh-ho~! Over here~!"

At that moment, a voice rang out, loud and clear, scattering the mist. As the veil of timelines parted, a lone cottage stood, and on its porch sat a man, waving. For a brief moment, I stood in stunned silence. But as soon as our eyes met, I knew exactly who he was—and he, too, recognized me.

“Deculein!”

It was Rohakan, and he was playfully kicking his feet on the porch of the cottage.

I stepped toward him, my voice carrying a hint of surprise, and said, "... You have become a boy."

I looked at him and the face I once knew was gone, replaced by that of a boy—far younger than before, bearing only the faintest traces of the Rohakan I remembered.

"That’s right," Rohakan replied with a bright smile.

The severity of his condition was more concerning than I had anticipated, yet the reason behind Rohakan’s return to youth was simple.

Then he added, "Time is short, so sit down. Let’s have a chat, shall we? Haha."

Meaning that his time was running out, and death was drawing near.

***

Yulie arrived at the vineyard in a rush, but entry was denied. Primien and Josephine stood in her way, blocking her path.

"Are you telling me that Professor Deculein went in alone?" Yulie asked, her eyes flicking between the two, disbelief plain on her face.

“Right,” Primien replied.

“Yes,” Josephine replied.

"Hup!" Yulie muttered as she suddenly thrust her shoulder forward, pushing her way through.

But before she could break through, not only Josephine and Primien but even the knights beside them moved to block her path.

"Why are you stopping me?! Rohakan is in there—”

“It is an imperial decree,” Primien interrupted.

The words hit Yulie like a wall, instantly silencing her.

"Her Majesty has entrusted the execution of Rohakan solely to Professor Deculein. There is no room for anyone else to interfere."

Unless the Empress herself revoked the decree, a knight had no choice but to obey.

“... Yeriel, does Lady Yeriel know?” Yulie asked as she stared at the vineyard.

“Yes, she has already been informed,” Primien replied.

“And what did she say?”

"Lady Yeriel has placed her trust in the professor. So, Knight Yulie, you should place your trust on him as well."

"I do not trust Professor Deculein, nor do I have any intention of doing so."

Boom—!

At that moment, a deep rumble rippled through the air, drawing everyone's attention toward it.

"... Lord Zeit, you’ve arrived~" Josephine greeted with a warm smile.

"Yes, I’m here," Zeit muttered, letting out a yawn as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, and stepped forward. "So, Rohakan is in there?"

"Yes~ But Professor Deculein has already gone ahead, you’ll have to wait out here with us~"

"... Is that so? Well, then," Zeit said nothing more as he leaned against the base of a nearby tree and settled down.

"Lord Zeit, are you certain you won’t be entering?" Yulie asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, Deculein is already inside, isn’t he?"

"But, it is Rohakan who is in there."

"Yes, I’m well aware," Zeit replied, waving his hand. "But interfering in a duel is disgraceful. Not that honor holds any meaning when facing a Black Beast like Rohakan... And Yulie."

“Yes, Lord Zeit.”

"If something happens to Professor Deculein, wouldn’t that work in your favor?"

“... No, it wouldn’t,” Yulie replied, shaking her head.

“And why is that?” Zeit asked with a smile.

"Because it is a matter I must handle alone...?"

At that moment, Yulie caught sight of a small airship, its buzz blending with the wind through the sky above.

Whirrrr— Whirrrr—

It was Sylvia, wearing her helmet.

“Ahem. Ahem. Well, excuse me for a moment,” Yulie muttered, clearing her throat awkwardly before slipping away in that direction.

***

Munch, munch— Munch, munch—

Rohakan was eating his grapes.

"There are fanatics in this world who are desperate to resurrect their god. But those fools don’t realize... the one they seek to bring back is nothing more than a fanatic themselves," Rohakan said, biting into a grape, pale as snow.

I nodded.

In the final stages of the main quest, the so-called god resurrected by the Altar was, in fact, nothing more than another fanatic worshiping a god. Of course, he was still the final boss—a being on the threshold of godhood.

"Anyway, I wanted to live long enough to stop it. But it seems the Altar was waiting—patiently—for my death," Rohakan continued, offering a cluster of grapes.

I also took a grape and popped it into my mouth.

Rohakan watched me with curious eyes as I ate the grape, then, after a brief pause, he said, "Deculein, you must have seen much on your way here."

“Yes.”

"And I suppose you’ve read the letters I wrote."

I gave a silent nod.

"You must have seen it on your way here—you’ve already died once. You gave your life for Sophien. By a stroke of luck, as they say, the pieces fell into place, and you overcame that death... but let me tell you this—there won’t be a second chance."

“Is that so?”

"Yes. But if you continue down this road, Sophien will inevitably be the one to kill you. But I suppose you’ll say that doesn’t matter, won’t you?"

"A death yet to come does not concern me. But Rohakan... there is something I must ask."

Rohakan turned to me with a small smile, as if he already knew what I was about to ask.

“Go ahead,” Rohakan said.

"Was it truly you who killed the Empress?" I asked.

The answer did not come, and the silence deepened.

"If not me, then who else?" Rohakan murmured, as if lost in thought, before placing a grape into his mouth.

There was one other who could have killed the Empress—but I chose to remain silent.

"Anyway, Deculein, I am becoming one with mana—closer to the sky, to nature itself," Rohakan continued, a faint smile playing on his lips as he met my eyes.

More than half of Rohakan’s body had already become mana, its volume exceeding human scale—too immense, too pure to be called human.

“Deculein,” Rohakan called.

“Yes.”

"Today, I need you to kill me first," Rohakan said as if he were asking me to pick up a pack of cigarettes from a convenience store.

As I stood there in silence, momentarily dazed, Rohakan chuckled and continued, "This is my gift to you. Take my head and offer it to Sophien. My face may have turned younger, but there will be no mistaking that it is still mine—Rohakan’s."

I had originally stepped inside not to kill Rohakan, but he had already become one with mana. At most, he had a week left to live.

"Whether she will welcome it or not, I cannot say... but for you, it will be of great use," Rohakan added.

[Main Quest: Life]

[Main Quest: Rohakan’s Words]

As Rohakan spoke, the notification for the two key quests appeared in front of me. The first offered the Rare Attribute Catalog as a reward, while the second granted a Catalog Enhancement Ticket, store currency, enhanced mana quality, and the chance to acquire a unique attribute. There was no doubt—it would be of great use to me.

"I trust you're capable of doing it?" Rohakan asked.

"Yes, I will kill you," I replied without hesitation.

“Good, then—”

"However,” I interrupted.

But what I really wanted was neither rewards nor system notifications.

“There is something I ask of you first."

Strangely enough, ever since I came into this world, I have always found myself in the role of someone meant to teach others even when I knew nothing, and still wandering in search of the unknown to this day. Therefore, perhaps that is why, more than anything, what I longed for was...

"... For the time you have left.”

To learn from one who had transcended even the realm of an Archmage—a true superhuman.

"Take on the role of my proper mentor once again," I concluded.

A being worthy of the title to be a mentor of mine.