A Villain's Will to Survive - Chapter 105
"I am no maggot. I am a being superior to you."
Dikailen's personality responded in a dry monotone.
"A wretch discarded like trash, and yet you know not your place."
I sneered, checking the inner pocket of my suit.
I hadn't brought the Mokgangcheol due to its bulk, but there was a corner of the Frost Stone, on which I had made some progress with Understanding.
"I'll help too."
Yeriel approached from the side. I shoved her away with Telekinesis.
"Get out."
"Why? I'm still fine."
Yeriel's face brimmed with confidence. But her complexion had already changed.
It was the precursor symptom of demonic energy poisoning.
"I have enough mana left for one spell—"
"Quiet."
"……"
"I said leave and don't interfere."
Yeriel clamped her mouth shut.
Whether from anger or frustration, her face twisted in deep dissatisfaction, but there was no helping it.
Yeriel had no place in this situation.
Shwaaaaa—!
At that moment, Dikailen spewed tentacles. A dark crimson aura rippled along their edges, and the air around us was already thick with demonic energy.
A fortunate turn.
I converted his demonic energy into my mana.
The mana, purified by my Bloodline, rose a full step in quality, and that instantaneous amplification created a torrent even I struggled to handle.
Feeling a headache like my skull might burst, I activated the Frost Stone.
A metal lump the size of a ping-pong ball. Its white and blue crystal unfurled like a net.
Shrrrrrk— Fine, slender lines intersected to form a lattice.
A precarious barrier just 1mm thick.
Yet the moment Dikailen's tentacles touched the Frost Stone, they froze solid—then burst into flames.
This paradoxical phenomenon was the renown of the mystical metal, the Frost Stone.
──────—!
The creature swung its tentacles wildly. They exuded a viscous demonic energy, its concentration dangerously high.
An ordinary human would melt like flesh dipped in acid the instant it made contact.
But I deflected it all with ease, all the while calculating the consumption cost of the still-prototype Frost Stone.
Mana drain was over ten times that of ordinary steel.
If Telekinesis manipulation grew complex, it amplified nearly fivefold through multiplied calculations.
Thus, total mana expenditure ranged from a minimum of ten times that of Mokgangcheol to a maximum of fifty.
The current Frost Stone was too burdensome for reckless use outside spaces saturated with demonic energy.
Still an unfinished ultimate weapon.
"You wield a strange artifact."
Dikailen's assault halted. It seemed to realize it couldn't pierce the Frost Stone—that victory was impossible.
Watching the thing idly, a sudden curiosity struck me.
"……Did he truly create you? Dikailen?"
Pure curiosity.
Its fuel was demonic energy.
For a Yukline mage who despised demons to craft something so radical? It strained belief.
"I am Master Dikailen's learning intellect. Born to replace you all."
That was all it said.
──That instant.
A red arc surged from behind me. I turned to look.
It was Yeriel.
"Haat!"
She had cast a spell.
The type: destruction magic, Fire Chain Line.
An advanced spell harmonizing the element of fire with the concept of space.
A slender line condensed superheated flames, detonating on the target in a way they could not evade—a highly difficult technique.
Yeriel's Fire Chain Line struck the creature's face, and kwaaaaa—!
Flames erupted from between its brows.
"……I can help too."
*Cough*! *Cough*!
Yeriel said while hacking. She wore an expression like Did I do good?, but rage boiled in me.
"How was that? Me—"
"Did you not hear me tell you to leave?"
Yeriel's face hardened.
She swallowed hard, jaw clenched tight. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths.
"……I'm serious. I was just about to go anyway!"
With that shout, Yeriel turned and stormed off.
"Don't even think about calling me back!"
She stomped away, using her last scraps of mana to open the door and vanish from the room with the key.
Whoosh—!
Only then did I glance forward.
Dikailen was burning in the magical flames.
Well, Fire Chain Line was a rather lethal destruction spell.
Yeriel had been diligently honing her magic in secret, it seemed. Keeping it from me.
"……Not bad."
I reshaped the Frost Stone into another form.
Shrak—!
The net shattered into dozens of shards with a sharp metallic ring.
The fragments surged toward Dikailen. Amid the flames Yeriel had ignited, they sliced its body to ribbons.
Carving it like meat.
They wounded its flesh, froze it, burned it—repeating the cycle.
"……"
Yet Dikailen didn't scream. It merely thrashed tentacles in all directions like a tantrum.
The thing lacked pain receptors.
I murmured softly.
"No senses, then. You are a failed creation."
"No…… I…… am Master Dikailen's…… learning intellect……."
It repeated the same words.
"Born…… to replace you all……."
Demonic energy clumped and flowed within it.
Its body broke down in patches, fuel leaking from the fissures.
"I…… am……."
In simple terms, it was dying.
"Di……kai……len…… Master's……."
Its droning voice cut off abruptly.
The thing that had mimicked human form and behavior crumbled to ash.
"Trash suits you well."
I approached it slowly.
It had become a pile of cinders, but something throbbed within—like a heart. A grotesque object.
I viewed it with the Naked Eye.
Information
Artificially created core.
Organic compound made of demonic energy.
Unfinished product.
"……Artificial Core?"
I furrowed my brow.
With Understanding, I examined its structure. Not only demonic energy, but 'circuits from various lifeforms' were integrated within.
Magic-made gore.
"Dikailen……."
I glared at the artificial core, murmuring his name.
Why craft such an artifact?
A Yukline mage using demonic energy? What drove him?
No matter how I pondered, only one group fit…….
"……The Altar."
The Altar alone.
Could the Yukline family be tied to the Altar?
Or was it Dikailen's solo act?
"I don't know yet."
I lifted the Artificial Core with Telekinesis.
Its appearance was grotesque and filthy, but it warranted study.
* * *
Meanwhile, Yeriel, who had left first, grumbled while waiting for Deculein.
"What an asshole."
One word of praise, and he sprouts fangs. He already knows everything, so being a little honest…… might be weirder.
Deculein was Deculein, through and through.
If he suddenly changed, it'd mean death was near.
"*Cough*, *cough*. Ugh, my throat hurts."
Yeriel leaned against the wall for a moment to check herself. Her mana was nearly depleted, and mild demonic poisoning lingered.
"Hold on."
Fiddling with her throat, she frowned.
The vassals always said the Yukline bloodline had wielded demonic energy since ancient times.
"Why me……."
Why was she coughing from it? Her head spun too.
"Just tired?"
Yeriel tilted her head and pulled out the Yukline Key.
Time to rescue the vassals.
Deculein would handle himself—he'd left the door open.
"……He won't lose, right?"
Worrying unconsciously, she recalled his death-glare from moments ago.
"Yeah. As if."
Snapping at her like Did you not hear me tell you to leave?—brimming with confidence.
Of course he'd win and return.
If he lost, she'd disown him—no funeral for a family disgrace.
"Let's see……."
Clack— Clack—
Yeriel's low heels clicked through the diary's corridors. She glanced at Deculein's memories in quick steps.
The frames holding Deculein's memories bore no titles. True to form, all were untitled.
"Where are the vassals……."
Then, suddenly.
"Huh?"
Yeriel spotted a memory from a relatively recent day.
"Ah~ That time……."
She still remembered what happened that day.
With a bitter smile, she approached.
Peering into the frame, a crisp voice seeped in.
"……Treating me like trash."
A chilling voice, laced with killing intent.
Time: a dark night.
Place: Yukline Manor.
Situation: confronting Deculein after he blew 200 million elne.
She'd brought knives and a gun back then.
She'd been that furious.
"You think I'm the one who cleans up your shit?"
She ranted, choked with rage and tears, but Deculein remained nonchalant.
Staring like What's this dog barking about?
"You think I'll live like this forever? I dropped out of university for you! Fuck, I haven't even dated once!"
His attitude only fueled her anger further…….
At last, Deculein spoke.
"I will yield the family head's seat to you."
"……Bullshit, total bullshit!"
"Pfft."
Yeriel chuckled unwittingly, but the memory continued.
"No, it doesn't make sense. Why? Why all of a sudden?"
"From now on, I intend to devote myself to the tower and magical research. I won't have time for family head duties, and you've already mastered the role of proxy lord."
She hadn't expected it then.
Yeriel watched with rapt fascination, like a play.
"Then…… the succession…… when……?"
"You know better than I when the time is right."
"Three years from now. The Day of Exception."
Sudden about-face, handing over the lordship.
She'd been baffled then; now it embarrassed her.
Her reactions were too transparent.
"Ugh. Uuuugh……."
Current Yeriel shuddered head to toe, but past Yeriel pressed on.
"If this is a lie, I don't know what I'll do…… It's all or nothing. Got it? The whole territory already sees me as lord."
"Believe me. It is no lie."
"……Hmph!"
Right after, Yeriel stuffed her dagger and gun into her bag.
"Wow. I even brought a gun?"
A small handgun, but she'd grabbed any weapon in blind rage.
"What was I planning to do?"
Anyway, as she barely contained her fury and turned to leave.
"Yeriel."
Deculein stopped her.
Watching that moment, Yeriel flinched, shoulders jerking.
"……You'll be hungry on the way. At least eat before you go."
"Ah, can't watch."
Críngy.
Maddening.
"No, it's fine! Just fine! Don't say weird shit all of a sudden! I gotta go now, what're you……."
Why had Deculein said that then?
Shaking her head, Yeriel tried to pull away from the memory.
But Deculein's memory didn't end there.
"……Hm."
The empty manor after Yeriel left.
Deculein let out a small sigh, then sat with a glass of wine.
Right then.
Whiiiish…….
A mystical whirlwind.
Simultaneously, a faint, unfamiliar voice drifted in.
"How fascinating."
"……?!"
A memory she didn't know.
Yeriel's eyes widened as she watched.
"……I was just dropping by."
A sweet, seductive whisper. Red hair fluttering in the wind.
The woman perched on the windowsill, swinging her legs……
"So this happened."
……Ganesha, leader of the Red Garnet adventurers—Yeriel's long-sought target.
"Hee hee."
She smiled at Deculein. He furrowed his brow.
"An uninvited guest, Ganesha."
"Ah~ Sorry. Really sorry, but……."
Yeriel stared blankly at their exchange.
Her heart pounded, mouth parched. Temples burned, cold sweat soaked her back.
"The professor yielding the family head seat? For real? Is he really changing?"
Deculein had surely entrusted Ganesha with some commission.
One involving her.
The clue might lie in this memory.
"……I simply thought she would do better than me."
Deculein across from her said.
His heart was honest. His words about yielding weren't lies.
"Hee hee. Is that so? Still…… still, you know."
Ganesha twisted her lips. An utterly grating expression.
"That bitch……."
Yeriel muttered, brow furrowed.
Eavesdropping on such a crucial talk.
She glared at Ganesha, on the verge of spewing curses—but the next moment.
"She's not your blood sister."
"?"
She tilted her head innocently. The words made no sense; her frown lingered.
No rewind function existed in this frame…….
Ganesha's words continued slowly.
"That girl…… doesn't have a drop of Yukline blood."