Deculein is Poison
Sylvia shoved Deculein’s hand from her shoulder. Or rather, he didn’t budge. His body was rock-solid.
She struggled for a long while—flailing and writhing—
“Let go. Let go of me. Let go.”
With no choice, she demanded release, and Deculein nodded. Freed, Sylvia glared at him with resentful eyes.
“If there’s no paradise that’s nothing but happy, then there shouldn’t be a hell that’s nothing but torment.”
Sylvia ground her molars.
“I’m in hell right now.”
Before she knew it, a knife was in her hand. She brandished it threateningly.
“I hate you for killing my mother. And I hate how you brazenly tell me to live while hating you. I don’t even know what you expect from me, doing this to me.”
Deculein said nothing. He merely cleansed the grease and flecks of meat from the knife with Cleanse.
It must have been dirty.
“Are you joking right now?!”
Sylvia yelled before she could stop herself. Her cry carried an exclamation point. Fury boiled up inside her.
“Sylvia.”
Deculein called her name calmly. It only made her angrier.
“I expect nothing from you.”
“Then why—”
He spoke in a low voice.
“I pity you.”
For a moment, Sylvia’s mouth fell open blankly. The knife in her grip stopped shaking. Deculein let out a small sigh.
“Let us end today’s conversation here.”
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He took back his knife and set it beside the plate. With Telekinesis, he straightened her disheveled clothes.
Deculein said,
“Tomorrow, or the day after, I shall return when you are prepared to leave. This journey will not be long.”
Thud, thud. Sylvia stared blankly at his retreating back as he left the restaurant.
……Deculein is poison.
Back home, lying in bed, that’s what Sylvia thought.
Deculein is poison.
A stupid poison who thinks I’d slip toxin into his steak.
Deculein is poison…….
Repeating it to herself, Sylvia suddenly sat up. She scanned her room quietly.
Countless books lined the shelves.
Pulling one out at random, there was Deculein’s name. Naturally—it was one of his magic theory tomes.
Magic of Probability
Orbital Formulas
Interpretations of Magical Space
Any mage on the Floating Island would covet them. Yet Deculein had permitted very few to access or purchase them—and Sylvia had been one.
She still wondered about it.
What emotion, what thoughts had driven him to give them to her.
Knock knock—
A knock at the door.
Sylvia opened it. A familiar face.
“……Deculein came by, huh.”
It was her magic mentor, Idnik.
Honestly, it felt more like she’d taught herself, with Idnik more like an academy lecturer, but anyway.
“Yeah.”
Idnik nodded.
“Time to go back now.”
“How?”
“He knows the way. The question is your will.”
Even in a world upheld by the mysteries of magic, unchanging laws existed. A simple one.
The dead never return, no matter what.
Thus, Sylvia knew this world was fake.
That awareness tormented her.
Would she be happier lost in oblivion?
“If I go back, the Voice will spread across the continent.”
Sylvia had lied to Deculein.
I didn’t defeat the Voice. It’s still inside me. If I return to the continent, it’ll turn the land into a hell where living and dead mingle.
She was the Voice’s source now.
“Father spread demons to save me.”
The demon’s letter. Sylvia spoke of it. Idnik pursed her lips.
“Yeah.”
Tortured intel from the Information Bureau. And having reached the Ether rank, no secrets on the Floating Island were beyond her.
……That’s what she told Idnik.
“I don’t want that, Idnik.”
Sylvia looked up at her. Idnik rubbed her temple.
“I’d rather forget it all.”
“……So you plan to stay here forever?”
“If I could.”
“That’s why you were scheming against Deculein?”
“……”
Sylvia clamped her mouth shut at Idnik’s words. Idnik shook her head.
“Of all people, Deculein. You think you can actually pull it off?”
“……”
“You’re so strange, Sylvia. Deculein killed Cielia. Yet you want to be with Cielia—and you don’t want to let him go either?”
Sylvia wanted to recreate Deculein with her talents.
“I can do it.”
Manifest a new Deculein, forget the truth, and be saved from this agony.
Delete the dark past, live like a human.
“……Do you like him?”
Idnik asked. Sylvia answered.
“Yes.”
“Then, do you hate him?”
Idnik asked again. Sylvia’s answer was the same.
“Yes.”
She liked and hated him.
Loved and loathed him.
Fortunately for Sylvia, that emotion already had a name in this world. Countless others had felt it too.
It wasn’t just her madness.
It was called love-hate.
“Rest up.”
Idnik shook her head and left.
Sylvia silently took her diary and pen. She sat at her desk. Gazing at the bear-panda doll asleep with an eraser for a pillow, she wrote.
Aesthetically, artistically, and popularly perfect. Intuitive brushwork. Sensibility in using color. The way it interprets the subject and spills onto the canvas. I love it all.
The next day.
I gaze down at Cielia from a high point on the island. She’s hanging laundry with Sylvia.
Tilting my head at the sight.
Just as in Deculein’s faded memories—a benevolent impression. The woman who sacrificed herself for Sylvia and her husband.
I ask the person beside me.
“Is that Cielia?”
“Yeah.”
Sylvia’s mentor, Rohakan’s disciple—Idnik.
Licking some ice cream, she asks,
“Planning to kill her now?”
“……”
I shake my head silently.
“Why.”
“Backfire.”
“Why not just kill her now?”
I shot a glance at the crude Idnik. She shrugged.
“Why? Kill the fake outright, and maybe Sylvia will think of leaving this island.”
“I know nothing about this island yet.”
Then Sylvia spotted me. She glared—zap—then went inside with Cielia.
“You killed Rohakan in one go, though.”
“……”
Idnik’s words carried a hint of grievance. But no enmity. Rohakan must have tipped her off.
“To the sea.”
Idnik furrowed her brow at my words but said nothing more.
And so, as we headed to the beach.
“Where you going.”
Sylvia appeared. She scurried after Idnik and me.
I warned her.
“You sure it’s safe leaving Cielia alone? I might kill her while you’re gone.”
“Don’t say that.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes curtly. Idnik chuckled.
Anyway, we reached the sea.
—Why the sea all of a sudden.
Idnik whispered so Sylvia couldn’t hear. I silently watched the waves. Observed their rhythm.
—……Hey. Why are we here. Hey. Hey.
Idnik whispered more, but I stayed quiet for a long time.
One hour, two, three, four…….
From morning until sunset.
“What’s with this guy? Hey, Sylvia, what’s he doing?”
Unable to bear it, Idnik turned to Sylvia instead. Sylvia clutched my sleeve with two fingers.
As if trying to drag me from the sea.
“……What are you doing.”
Sylvia asked. I twisted my lips silently. Flashed a mocking smile.
“No need to tell you. We’re enemies, after all.”
“……”
Sylvia’s face hardened, and I turned to walk the beach.
But a clear question echoed in my mind.
Just now, I observed the sea’s waves.
Waves—ripples, vibrations.
Waves crashing on the shore are always irregular. Nature’s way. Timing of approach, shape of crash, dispersing intensity—all different every day.
Not this island.
The flow, crash patterns, wave strength—all regular. Waves I’d seen before approach; they break in patterns I’ve seen before.
Thus, I could form one hypothesis…….
“……Sylvia.”
I called her name. She looked at me.
“Just one question.”
Sylvia’s face turned ambiguous.
I probed her.
“How many ‘me’s is this now?”
……Meanwhile, Sophien thought of Deculein. Recalled the man who’d gone far away.
Strange.
Perhaps because of the woman before her.
A woman glaring at the Go board like a puppy desperate to poop.
Julie.
“You fool.”
Eek!
Julie flinched at the insult. Her eyes welled with tears of frustrated rage.
Tears from anger, not sorrow.
“Frustrated?”
“……Yes.”
“What’s to be frustrated about? Even decades of training wouldn’t make you win at this level.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not frustrated at the loss—I’m frustrated at myself.”
Julie looked up at the ceiling.
Today, Sophien had summoned Julie to the palace on purpose. For Deculein’s assignment.
“How fares the task?”
Sophien asked. Julie gritted her teeth.
“Professor Deculein interfered, but it progresses steadily.”
“Indeed.”
Sophien smirked. Julie’s documents littered the desk— all tracing the poison attempt’s culprits.
“But do you know where Deculein is now?”
“On the Island of the Voice—”
“You needn’t go?”
“……Yes.”
Julie nodded.
“Yet you seem to truly despise Deculein.”
“Yes. But it shall not affect Your Majesty.”
“I know. You do not speak ill of others.”
Sophien leaned back. With Telekinesis, she gathered the white and black stones.
“Were I you, I would detail why I despise Deculein—preemptively strike with politics.”
“……No.”
“Politics is the path to victory. Know you not?”
“No.”
“My words are wrong?”
“No.”
Julie shook her head firmly.
“Your Majesty’s words are correct. Your Majesty defines the empire’s justice. Yet my victory comes not from politics—from righteousness.”
“……”
Sophien toyed with her chin silently. She peered at Julie with narrowed eyes.
Then, with a smirk, she nodded.
“Very well.”
The emperor placed six black stones first on the board. Having lost with five-stone handicap before, this was six.
“In truth, I know.”
“……?”
Julie’s eyes widened at Sophien.
“Why you hate Deculein. Why you broke your engagement.”
“……”
Julie’s clenched fist trembled. She shook her head inwardly.
Her Majesty couldn’t know such trivial, intimate matters. So she thought.
“Veron. And Rockfel. The Phrenheim Knights.”
But Sophien struck true. Julie’s heart pounded.
“Deculein killed Veron and Rockfel. He ruined the Phrenheim Knights too.”
Sophien smiled faintly and placed a white stone.
“The rest, in time. And I shall hear more in time. Place your stone. The longer this game, the more you’ll hear……”
Gulp. Julie swallowed. Her face showed clear reluctance, but Sophien demanded the game firmly.
“Hurry. What are you waiting for? I too wish to hear of the professor from you.”
With no choice, Julie nodded. She picked up a black stone with two fingers and placed it on a star point.
Securing seven of the nine star points, yet victory seemed infinitely distant.