A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 117: Sophien (2) Part 1

The moment I left Sophien’s bedchamber, I moved swiftly. My destination was the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace. I reached it in no time, but a statue blocked my path.

“Keiron,” I said.

Keiron raised his eyes to meet mine. The blade of his sword rested on the ground, its tip pressed against the stone floor. He said nothing.

However, yesterday, Yulie had told me my wound came from a sword. I had suspected it since then—there weren’t many who could pierce the vital point of an Iron Man so easily.

“I’ve given it much thought,” Keiron said, his voice low as the blade of his sword scraped across the ground, rising slowly.

I asked, “What conclusion have you come to?”

“... That I am the Empress’s knight. Whether the world changes or succumbs to the demon’s will, it makes no difference to me.”

Keiron was a knight devoted entirely to the Empress. His only concern was Sophien’s happiness and protection. In his own way, he was just as stubborn as Yulie—perhaps even more so.

“The mirror has promised me a new world,” Keiron added.

“... Trusting a demon is the height of foolishness, Keiron.”

The new world that the Demon’s Mirror had promised Keiron. I could picture it clearly. It might have been a world where Sophien had never fallen ill, where she had grown up in peace and ruled the Empire. A world where left-handed and right-handed people were reversed—a mirror’s world. But it would also be a world that had already met its end, a Game Over.

“That is nothing but a path to ruin. A demon is what it is for good reason, Keiron.”

“No. It’s not an end in ruin, but a new beginning. There is no one more important in this world than Her Majesty. If anyone is the rightful ruler of this world, it’s her. Wherever she resides, that is the true world.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. There was no clear protagonist in this world, but if anyone could be called the main character, it was Sophien. If she were to die, the game would end—just as it would for the one playing it.

“If there is a sun in this world, it is Her Majesty. She is the very embodiment of a miracle—”

Bang—!

Suddenly, a massive mace came crashing down from above, striking Keiron in the side.

Craaash—!

The impact sent him flying, and I instinctively turned toward its source. A knight, fully clad in full plated armor, stood there.

“You must go!”

Though the knight’s face was concealed by the armor, I recognized the voice instantly. It was Yulie. Keiron wiped the blood from his mouth as he rose to his feet, but his movements stopped as his feet froze to the ground.

“Professor, quickly!” Yulie called out, her face still hidden.

Keiron unleashed his mana, melting the ice that had bound him.

“Go!”

Remaining still would have only worsened things for Yulie.

“... Very well,” I said with a nod, then sprinted toward the door leading to the underground chamber.

Clang—!

Sparks flew as their swords clashed. Yulie intercepted Keiron as he charged toward me. The wooden door to the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace loomed ahead. I sprinted forward and seized the handle.

Whoosh...

A brilliant light flooded my vision, overwhelming my retinas with blinding intensity.

***

I stepped into the Demon’s Mirror and scanned my surroundings. Mirrors stretched in every direction, endlessly reflecting my image and filling the space with countless versions of myself.

"Hi," a voice called out from behind.

I turned and saw her reflection in the mirror. It appeared to be Sophien—or rather, it was the Demon’s Mirror, having taken her form.

"I’m just using this look to make things easier."

"There was no need to explain," I said, turning toward the Mirror. "Is that the form you used to persuade Keiron?"

"Yes. He’s a knight, after all. A knight who only serves the Empress. When I showed him I was serious, he figured out a way to make Sophien happy," the Mirror said, smiling—a smile that looked strange on Sophien’s face.

"Did you involve the Altar as well?" I asked.

"Yes."

"So, you never planned to revive their god from the beginning."

"Of course not. I was just going to use them and toss them aside. I mean, I am a demon, after all."

The Altar’s Resurrection of the God had been one of the key events in the main quest, and the demon’s power could hasten nor stop it.

"What do you intend to do now?"

"What do you think, Deculein? Your world’s already messed up. Sophien’s 153 returns have caused cracks all over."

"Cracks?"

"Yes. And it’s not just Sophien who’s been through regression. You don’t really think a few drops of a little demon’s essence of a human's vital energy could make a human to regress, do you?"

I stayed silent.

"If this keeps up, just a few more deaths from Sophien could be enough to make the whole world fall apart."

I stared at the mirror in Sophien’s form, and it smiled back calmly, continuing, "But if I become the world, everyone can live happily. Safely. And there won’t be any risks at all."

The disgust for demons, inherited through my Yukline bloodline, surged up my throat. I wanted to strangle it right then and there, but instead, I shook my head.

"Not interested?" the Mirror asked, its voice suddenly sharp. "You really don’t want that?"

"I am here for one purpose alone—to fulfill a promise."

"... A promise?" the Mirror asked, crossing its arms. "Okay, do whatever you want, but I’m not opening the door. You’ll be stuck here forever."

I paid no attention to the Mirror and focused on the mirror in the space around me. I pressed my hand against its glass surface.

"I don’t need your permission," I said.

"Why not? It’s my world."

"Because you are a demon."

The Demon’s Mirror. It was a demon, and demonic energy was inseparable from its kind. This world had been saturated with dense, high-level demonic energy, which meant that here, I could use my Comprehension attribute without limit.

Naturally, had I done that, the strain would have been immense. Even without the risk of Deculein’s personality taking over, my very life could have been at stake.

Despite that, I set my hand on the mirror and, without a moment's hesitation, activated my Comprehension.

A thousand units of mana drained from me in an instant. Then nine hundred, eight hundred, seven hundred... Mana flowed from every vein in my body. The amount I lost each second was overwhelming, but I swiftly converted the demonic energy back into mana.

"... What are you doing?" the Mirror asked, sounding confused.

But I couldn’t see its face; my eyes were already closed.

"Wait... hold on."

Its voice trembled. It had never dealt with something like this before—its surprise was clear.

"This can’t be happening... No, stop it!"

Its tone grew increasingly frantic. Its hands grabbed at my waist, but there was no strength in them. A mere mirror couldn’t harm a human.

"Cut it out!"

The deeper I delved into Comprehension, the more desperate the Mirror became.

"I told you to stop—!"

As my Comprehension deepened, the demonic energy flooded through me, pushing my veins to the point of bursting, but I didn’t care.

"Stop! Don’t do it—!"

Thump—!

My heart jolted violently, and blood rushed up my throat. It felt as if my veins were ripping apart.

"You’ll die from this, you know—!"

Perhaps I would die, but I felt no fear. My resolve would never waver over something as insignificant as death.

"Don’t... don’t look inside me—!"

Its voice, now nearly a scream, was laced with madness. I opened my eyes. In the mirror, my pupils had already begun to turn violet, and the veins in my neck darkened like spreading roots. Slowly, I turned to face it.

"Stop... stop..." the Mirror whimpered, clutching its head, panting as if it could barely hold itself together.

"... This is what a promise means to me," I declared.

I never went back on my word. Even if it meant death, I kept my promises. That obsessive drive, that pathological will, was all Deculein had ever been. I would use my Comprehension until the very end, digging deep into the mirror’s core...

"Stoooooooop—!"

***

[Third Cycle]

When I opened my eyes, it was the third cycle. I found myself back in Sophien’s room. I glanced at the calendar hanging in the center of the wide, empty living room. January 1st—Sophien’s point of return. I had successfully achieved Comprehension of the Demon’s Mirror.

However, as I exhaled, the breath that left my lips was tinged with violet. The veins across my body flickered between shades of blue and purple.

[Status Effect: Severe Acute Demonic Energy Poisoning]

[Status Effect: Mana Overflow]

[Status Effect: Magic Deviation]

Even with the body of an Iron Man, recovering from these injuries seemed uncertain. But it didn’t matter. I turned toward the mirror in Sophien’s room, where her reflection lay on the surface, still in bed.

"Your Highness."

Startled, Sophien shot upright, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"I have returned to you," I told her.

"Oh..." Sophien murmured, pressing her lips together to hide a smile. I sat in the chair beside her as she cleared her throat, attempting to sound stern. "Ahem. Professor."

"Yes, Your Highness"

Her next words were more than satisfying.

"Good. It’s nice to see you. You kept your promise."

Promise. Somehow, that word had brought me an unexpected sense of peace.

***

Although I had arrived confidently, there wasn’t much I could do as a reflection within the mirror. The Mirror Magic and Glass Magic I had studied were completely useless here. All I could do was read the books Sophien brought, talk with her, or simply breathe in and out.

Yet, each breath brought pain—a result of having burned through nearly sixty thousand units of mana in an instant. I suspected that parts of my heart or lungs had likely necrotized.

Chirp, chirp— Chirp, chirp—

We were in the Imperial Palace garden, where birds chirped overhead.

Sophien lay on the grass and spoke first, saying, “Professor.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Lately, the pain has returned. It seems my body has begun to fail me again.”

“Is that so?”

“... It’s maddening. How much longer must I endure this pain?” n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

I recalled the words of the Demon’s Mirror. It had said that Sophien had regressed exactly 153 times.

“Your Highness.”

If she knew her final regression would be the 153rd, would she suffer more along the way? Or would she face her death with greater calm? I wondered.

“Hmm? Yes, what is it?”

There was no saving Sophien early. Her healing had already been predetermined. After dying over a hundred times, the poison that had once ravaged her body was finally erased by the world's resistance. It was a miracle brought about by the countless cycles of her regression.

"Would you like to play a game of chess?" I asked.

“... Chess?”

“Yes.”

"Chess... Why so sudden?"

“I’m quite skilled at it. Even if you spent your entire life trying, you wouldn’t be able to defeat me. Perhaps when you do manage to beat me, it will mean you’ve fully recovered.”

I had gradually mastered chess over time. Even without relying on my Comprehension attribute, I had become skilled enough to reach the level of a Grandmaster.

"Hm. How arrogant of you. Are you certain about that? I tend to pick things up rather quickly."

“Yes.”

"Very well, bring me the chessboard!" Sophien exclaimed as she rose energetically from the grass. "Is anyone present? Bring me a chessboard immediately!"