A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 222: Wooden Pocket Watch (1)

... Epherene’s thoughts turned to the assassination of Her Majesty. The one behind it had to be among the thirty knights she had summoned—or at the very least, that was the strongest lead on the suspect.

"And they have made no effort to hide their crime, for all the world to know,” Epherene said.

The Imperial Family would never disclose the Empress’s condition without careful deliberation. As the most crucial figure on the continent, any news of Her Majesty would only be made public after thorough preparation and the establishment of multiple contingency plans—a fundamental rule of governance.

"It was all carefully planned."

However, while the Imperial Palace was thrown into chaos, the Altar took advantage of the opportunity and exposed the Empress’s condition to the press, and the news spread like wildfire. With that single move, their scheme brought the very foundations of order crumbling down.

"And that was how they drew the Professor into the Imperial Palace."

If news of the Empress’s critical condition spread, then the Professor would have no choice but to come to the Imperial Palace, Epherene thought.

“... So they had planned to take the Professor down along with Her Majesty from the very beginning,” Delic muttered, his jaw tightening in anger.

"Professor must have had a sense of it from the moment he stepped into the Imperial Palace," Epherene replied with a nod.

After the incident, the Imperial Palace was swarming with outsiders. Watchful eyes hovered in every corner, and among them, without a doubt, were the eyes of the Altar.

“And...”

Epherene fell silent for a moment, then slowly turned to look at Sylvia.

Drip— Drip—

Water dripped from her drenched robe, pooling at her feet. Sylvia’s hollow eyes stared into nothingness, her body limp like a discarded marionette, giving no sign that she had heard Epherene's words at all.

“... Sylvia,” Epherene called. “There is definitely a way to undo this.”

Sylvia raised her head slightly, strands of brittle blonde hair slipping from beneath her hooded robe.

"So please, help me. Don’t just stand there like a fool."

"... That doesn’t mean it will bring the dead back to life," Sylvia muttered, her voice weak, her lips pale, bruised a cold shade of violet.

"No, he will," Epherene replied, nodding firmly despite the ache in her heart.

Sylvia remained silent.

"These memories will fade like a bad dream. And when they do, we’ll hit back twice as hard."

Sylvia's eyes narrowed in disbelief, and she shook her head, letting out a quiet sigh as if the situation were unbelievable, muttering, “Foolish Epherene.”

“... You’re going to help, right?”

Sylvia pressed her lips together, but with her, silence was as good as agreement.

"Knight Delic, should we head out now?" Epherene asked.

"Yes, I’ve already dispatched a team of five, all reliable."

Epherene frowned at Delic’s words.

"Don't worry. I'm no fool. I gave each of them a different destination," Delic replied with a faint smile.

“... Sorry?”

"I don’t know exactly what the Altar is, but if they dared to attack Her Majesty, then spies have likely already penetrated the Imperial Palace," Delic said as he slipped on his coat. "If any of the five are spies, they’ll feed the Altar false information. And even if they aren’t, the false leads will still mislead the Altar’s attention. Either way, it’s the best way to divide their focus."

“Aha...” Epherene muttered, impressed by his insight.

“Then let’s get going. And your friend over there too,” Delic said with a faint chuckle, gesturing toward Sylvia.

“We are not friends,” Sylvia said, snapping her head up.

“... Oh? You’re saying you’re not friends?”

“We were classmates from university,” Epherene said.

“Classmates are friends... Wait. Just now, you called her Sylvia, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

Delic's eyes widened as he turned to look at Sylvia.

"Sylvia of Iliade. Master of the Primary Colors," Sylvia replied with a scoff.

***

Sylvia created an airship with her Primary Colors, and with Epherene and Delic by her side, they flew through the sky. Before long, the three of them arrived at the Yukline mansion.

"... Wait here for a moment. I’ll go in alone," Epherene said.

"If anything happens, shout for help," Delic replied.

“Okay.”

Under the full moon’s glow, the mansion’s garden—once familiar from her time there—felt strangely lonely and cold. Stepping off the airship, Epherene walked with a quick pace toward the back door.

Creeeeak—

Epherene pushed the back door open and walked up the stairs in silence. Deculein’s office was secured by protective magic, but she had been granted access with a drop of her own blood that she had offered. Inside, everything remained as it always had—neat and orderly. Even in his absence, it seemed someone continued to keep it clean.

Maybe Lady Yeriel did? Epherene thought.

“So, the drawer...”

As Epherene approached the desk, a sudden chill brushed the nape of her neck, sending a shiver through her.

Swish—

A chilling wave of murderous intent, followed by the cold bite of steel, sent a shock through Epherene. As she spun around, a cloaked stranger came into view—a blade driving straight for her heart.

“Ahh!”

Just as the blade was about to pierce her chest, the space around Epherene warped, pulling her three steps away in a blink.

“Careful.”

Then, a voice approached from behind, and Epherene turned toward it, her eyes widening in complete shock.

“... A-A-A-All—”

“Shh.”

Behind Epherene stood Assistant Professor Allen, his expression extremely serious.

Epherene swallowed hard.

The Professor who was alive is now dead, and the Assistant Professor Allen who was dead is somehow standing here? What in the world is happening? Epherene thought.

“... What in the world?”

"Yes... it certainly seems that way," Allen replied with a bright smile, then extended his hand toward the cloaked stranger.

The stranger instinctively darted toward the window, seemingly attempting to escape—only to be sliced clean in two in the very next moment.

Shhhhhhrk—

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The stranger’s body split cleanly at the waist, the cut so precise that Epherene could only stare in stunned silence. The lethality of it was as unimaginable as Allen’s return from the dead.

"What brings you here?" Allen asked, his expression unbothered by what had just happened.

“... Huh?" Epherene muttered, staring at Allen.

Epherene searched his face, looking for even the slightest hint of dishonesty—but no, it was undeniably Allen.

“Wow.”

The shock Epherene felt was nearly the same as when she had first experienced regression.

"That was the last watchman left here, keeping watch in case you came," Allen explained. "And I was watching him."

Epherene remained silent.

"So, Miss Epherene, what brings you here?"

“Umm... I...” Epherene muttered, hesitantly pointing toward Deculein’s drawer—just beyond the severed corpse, split clean in two like a fallen tree.

“Oh,” Allen muttered, waving his hand once to wipe away the corpse and every drop of blood. In an instant, they vanished without a trace, as if they had never been there to begin with. "Okay. What is it you're looking for?"

Epherene stepped forward and pulled open Deculein’s drawer.

Creak—

“... This,” Epherene muttered.

Just as Deculein had described, a dark bracelet rested on a delicate veil.

"Is that everything you need?" Allen asked.

"... Yes. No—wait. More importantly, Assistant Professor Allen! What happened to you? Are you a ghost?!"

"No... I’m just... But does that even matter right now?" Allen said, shaking his head before leaning against the office wall. "... The Professor is dead."

It was a quiet murmur, tinged with resignation.

“And so is the Empress.”

Epherene watched him silently, in a daze.

"... There’s no saving it now. This world is already lost," Allen muttered, a bitter smile crossing his lips as he lowered his eyes.

"No!" Epherene replied without hesitation. "It’s not over yet."

Allen blinked and turned his eyes to Epherene.

"We can still find a way to undo this."

Allen fell silent and thought, his eyes locked on Epherene’s determined face—set with inexplicable resolve and confidence.

“... Aha,” Allen muttered, pulling a small letter from his coat. “Here. Take this, Miss Epherene.”

“What... is this?” Epherene asked.

"I was the first to find the Professor’s body."

“What?!”

"The Professor was strong, as expected. Even the Altar barely managed to escape. If only he had held on a little longer until I arrived..." Allen said, his expression darkening briefly before he forced a bright smile. "Before he passed, he left behind several letters. In mine, he instructed me to deliver them to the others and remain here in his office."

Epherene remained silent.

"Professor knew that you would come here, Miss Epherene, just as he knew the Altar would keep watch over this place."

Epherene took the letter, her name written neatly in the corner of the envelope.

"Just how many steps ahead was the Professor? One? Two? Three? ... But in the end, the most crucial piece—himself—was lost."

"No," Epherene said, tucking the letter into her robe. "He’s not gone. We can bring him back—so come with me."

Allen stared at Epherene in silence, his eyes unreadable—though, in truth, it was the kind of look one gives to someone lost in delusion.

"I cried my eyes out when you died, you know? I wept until I couldn’t breathe," Epherene said, her teeth clenched.

“Okay.”

"Don't just say ‘okay’!" Epherene cried out.

Allen formed an appropriate expression, but it was merely an imitation of emotion.

"Oh, I’m sorry... I had my reasons..."

“... If you’re really sorry,” Epherene said, placing a hand on Allen’s shoulder. “Then come with me.”

Clatter—

At the sound of the doorknob turning, Epherene flinched, and Allen quickly pulled her into hiding between the bookshelves.

“... Is anyone there?”

A familiar voice echoed through the room—it was Yeriel.

"... Well, of course. No one would be here," Yeriel muttered.

Epherene's face fell as she caught sight of Yeriel through the gap between the bookshelves.

"I'm here... but my brother is not."

Yeriel let out a hollow laugh before sinking into the professor’s chair and resting her head against the desk, tracing its surface with her fingertips, a quiet breath escaping her. Then, she wept quietly—her tears falling for a long while.

***

On a late night in March, in the Rekordak office of Knight Deya in the Northern Region, Yulie stood by the window, staring out. The stars and moon bathed the snow in their pale glow, but the sight meant nothing to her.

The continent stood on the edge of war after the assassination attempt on the Empress. Tensions fluctuated by the hour, yet her condition remained a mystery. Meanwhile, the news of Deculein’s death had already spread as an undeniable truth—so blunt and irrefutable that it unsettled Yulie, leaving her mind in disarray.

Knock, knock— Knock, knock—

At that moment, a knock echoed through the office door.

"Who is it?" Yulie said, turning toward the door.

"It’s me, Epherene."

“Hmm?”

Epherene, Deculein’s protégé—a name that should have been in the capital, not here. Stunned, Yulie quickly stepped forward and opened the door.

“Miss Epherene...?”

But Epherene wasn’t alone. At first, Yulie didn’t even realize it was her—they were all wrapped in thick robes.

"Yes, it’s me, Epherene," Epherene replied, pulling back her hooded robe.

The two behind her lowered their hoods, revealing Sylvia and Delic. Yulie’s confusion only deepened.

“Knight Delic?”

"Shh. Keep this quiet. No one must know I’m here," Delic said. "We’ll stand guard outside. Speak with Epherene."

Though the sudden visit was unexpected, Yulie gave a nod and replied, “Yes, Knight Delic.”

... Five minutes later.

"It’s difficult to believe completely," Yulie said, seated across from Epherene, listening to her words.

Epherene looked as if she knew how unbelievable it sounded.

"So, to summarize—you are saying that you have regressed right now, Miss Epherene?"

“Yes, that is correct,” Epherene replied.

"... That is... difficult to believe."

Regression—from the future to the past—is not something one can easily believe. No, believing it would be the strange part. Even for a mage, it would be too magical, Yulie thought.

"However, I do agree that one among the thirty knights is a suspect. I had considered the same—that one of them is shrouded in great darkness," Yulie said.

The thirty knights personally summoned by Her Majesty—all candidates for the title of guardian knight—were among the strongest on the continent. Each possessed the skill to either attempt an attack on the Empress or take Deculein’s life.

"... Yes. That’s why, before he passed, the Professor told me to come to you for help, Knight Yulie," Epherene said.

"For... my help?" Yulie frowned, repeating the words as if to confirm them.

That was even harder to believe—perhaps even more so than the idea of her regression itself.

"Yes. The Professor said that Knight Yulie was the most trustworthy person on the continent," Epherene replied with a bright smile.

The most trustworthy person... The most trustworthy person. Of course, I have never strayed from my path, but for Deculein to have called me that...

“And.”

As Yulie sat lost in thought, Epherene added, "The Professor doesn’t hate you, Knight Yulie."

Those words only deepened Yulie’s confusion, a dull ache forming at her temple. But soon, she understood.

That is a lie.

"You don’t need to worry. My feelings toward the Professor won’t bother me from helping you, Miss Epherene—"

"No, that’s not what I meant." Epherene interrupted, searching through her robe. "Really, the Professor doesn’t hate you, Knight Yulie."

At that moment, Yulie’s eyes widened as something tumbled from the inner pocket of Epherene’s robe.

“T-That is...”

A bracelet—her father’s first and only gift to her. Yulie’s eyes widened in shock, disbelief washing over her face.

"Professor kept this with him all this time. Maybe he was waiting for the right moment to return it to you... maybe on the wedding day," Epherene muttered with a bitter smile.

Yulie remained silent.

"If he really hated you, would he have held onto this for so long?" Epherene added, placing the bracelet on the desk.

Almost without thinking, Yulie took the bracelet and held it in her palm as she stared at it, lost in thought.

"Perhaps...”

Yulie looked at Epherene once more. The bracelet, black as coal and worn as if it might crumble at any moment, softened something deep within her heart.

"The Professor still loves you, Knight Yulie," Epherene said with a smile.