A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 221: Assassination of the Empress (2)

I arrived at the Imperial Palace with Epherene, stepping into an atmosphere thick with tension. The heavy presence of the guards only deepened the weight in the air, and a gloomy darkness loomed over the palace.

Thud— Thud—

As I walked through the corridor, I felt the weight of unseen eyes pressing on me. They belonged to nations and factions across the continent—those who had already received word of the urgent news.

"... Please wait here for a moment," Ahan said, leading us to the reception room.

The empty space, furnished with only two chairs, was a perfect sealed room—both scientifically and magically impenetrable.

"I will return shortly."

After Ahan left, Epherene sat down, fidgeting anxiously with her fingers. I took my seat as well, and together, we waited in silence. Stillness. Emptiness. Epherene’s quiet cough. The faint ticking of a wristwatch. Then, at last, the sound of the door creaking open.

"Professor Deculein. Miss Epherene," Ahan said, her face pale and devoid of warmth.

"Y-Yes?" Epherene replied, startled.

I silently watched Ahan.

"What I am about to say must remain unheard by any but those present in this room. This, too, is Her Majesty’s decree."

“Will do,” I replied.

"Your discretion is deeply appreciated."

Ahan’s expression was grim, but it did not trouble me much.

"Professor Deculein, Miss Epherene, Her Majesty has just...”

Sophien’s death marked the end of this world. If even the slightest sign of it appeared, the entire continent would be swallowed by death variables. But here and now, such a possibility did not exist.

"Passed away."

... Therefore, Ahan’s words felt impossible to accept, like an unfounded theory or the ramblings of a misguided fool.

"Her Majesty instructed that this be shared with only you, Professor, and your protégé," Ahan said, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold back tears.

I leaned back in the chair, listening to the sound of Epherene’s shaky breaths.

“Therefore...”

Ahan swallowed her final words.

"I will remain silent—until the perpetrator and those behind them are caught, and the Empire is secure," I said, finishing the words in her place.

"... Yes, Professor. If anyone inquires, please just tell them that Her Majesty is resting. That ought to suffice. For now, please remain here a while longer. Leaving too soon may draw unwanted attention," Ahan replied, her composure restored as she stepped out of the sealed chamber.

I fell into thought. Never once had I imagined Sophien’s death—let alone a world where I continued on without her. Even now, I struggled to comprehend it. Ahan’s words lingered in my mind, yet doubt clouded my thoughts. This felt like one of Sophien’s elaborate schemes, but still, it didn’t seem real. Perhaps, in the end, I was just in shock.

Of course, in the main quest, Sophien could die more than once. But each time that happened, the player would face a game over, forced to restart from the last save point. And in that reset world, Sophien would always be alive—as if nothing had ever happened. Therefore, a world without her could never exist.

“... Professor,” Epherene called.

I watched Epherene, who had been acting strangely since yesterday. Shadows weighed heavily on her face, and her nervous fingers, wriggling like an octopus' tentacle, grated on my nerves.

"I... I came from two months in the future," Epherene said.

***

Epherene told Deculein everything—how she had regressed from April 9 to the present, and how Murkan had called it the Altar’s declaration of war.

“... Declaration of war,” Deculein muttered.

“Yes, Professor!” Epherene said.

At first, she spoke hesitantly, her words unsteady. But as Deculein listened with quiet seriousness, her voice grew louder.

"And that the Altar had sought the power of a demon to assassinate Her Majesty!" Epherene added, enunciating each word.

Deculein gave a slow nod.

"Do you believe me?" Epherene asked.

"I believe you," Deculein replied.

“... Really?”

"Then, are you saying you lied to me?"

"Noo! It’s not a lie!"

"Then I will believe you."

“... Oh,” Epherene muttered, scratching her cheek.

With just a few more words, Deculein left her feeling small, ashamed for ever doubting him.

"No matter when, I will always believe in you."

"Wouldn’t that be a bit too much..." Epherene mumbled, pouting slightly as she avoided his eyes.

"Let’s go," Deculein said, glancing at his wristwatch before rising to his feet.

Epherene stared at him blankly for a moment before pushing herself to her feet and replied, "Yes, Professor!"

"Remain close. There are too many outsiders in the Imperial Palace right now."

Deculein led the way, and Epherene followed with her back straight, steps steady, and lips pressed together in determination. Epherene carried herself with dignity—at least until a swarm of officials and knights rushed toward them in the halls of the Imperial Palace, making her shrink back once more.

"Professor! Her Majesty—h-how is she?"

"Her Majesty is recovering. Until the perpetrator and those behind the attack are identified, no official statement will be made. It would be wise not to ask me further," Deculein said.

"Her Majesty remains unharmed, does she not?"

Deculein moved forward, brushing past the officials without a moment of hesitation. But Epherene was quickly swallowed by the crowd, shoved by broad-shouldered knights and officials as they pushed past her shoulders.

"Ahh! My chin—ugh...!"

At that moment, a gloved hand grabbed Epherene’s wrist and pulled her forward with firm strength. Stumbling, she was dragged along, and when she looked up, she met the eyes of the one holding her—Deculein.

“... Woah.”

"Stay close. If you’re pushed back, you may find a blade at your throat," Deculein said.

“A b-blade at my throat?!”

"The assassin may still be here—whether they are trapped or never meant to escape."

With those words, Deculein took Epherene by the wrist and led her forward, making sure she neither strayed nor lost her way. Any official or knight who dared come too close was met with a harsh shove or a cold glare enough to halt them in their tracks.

Epherene glanced down at her wrist—the large hand gripping it tightly, almost consuming her slender frame. As her eyes traveled upward, she took in the broad expanse of his back. At that moment, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand, time seemed to slow down.

"We depart," Deculein said.

“Sorry?”

By the time she realized what had happened, she was already inside the car.

“Yes, master,” Ren replied, pressing the accelerator as the car slipped into motion.

“... Phew,” Epherene muttered.

Epherene finally calmed herself, though a strange heat still hung on her cheeks. Flustered, she slapped them, as if to shake off the feeling.

"Okay. So, what do we do now?" Epherene asked.

As Deculein cast Silence over the vehicle, he replied, "We must first determine the conditions of your regression."

“Conditions of my regression?”

"Regression is not your own. It is merely a force that has temporarily taken hold of you through some unknown influence. Therefore, its very nature remains unstable."

The authority of regression had always been Sophien’s, yet for some unknown reason, it had briefly found its way to Epherene. Sensing that momentary lapse, the Altar struck—bringing Sophien’s life to an end.

"... Whether your regression is bound to April 9th.”

Sophien was never someone to be taken lightly. To both the Altar and the player, she was the greatest threat—the one force they had to watch out for. Perhaps that was why the Altar had never dared to touch her. Killing her on impulse could mean handing her the very knowledge she needed upon her regression, granting her the very knowledge they fought to keep buried.

“Or triggered by some other condition."

“... Right.”

"With it, you hold the means to bring back Her Majesty."

Epherene nodded with quiet resolve.

"But the Altar is strong and dangerous enough to threaten Her Majesty’s life. You must need another to stand by your side to assist."

Deculein fell into brief contemplation.

Clunk—!

At that moment, the vehicle bounced over rough ground.

Epherene flinched, her shoulders tensing as she blinked and stole a glance toward the driver’s seat, realizing Ren had never driven like this before.

“... Yulie,” Deculein muttered.

"Yulie, Knight Yulie?" Epherene said, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yulie is the most trustworthy person on the continent. You need only place your trust in her. But if she refuses to accept your words, there is a bracelet in my office drawer—take it with you."

“Bracelet... What kind of bracelet is it?”

"It is the only gift Yulie ever received from her father."

“Aha...”

As Epherene quietly listened to Deculein, a realization struck her—this conversation felt strange. Throughout it all, he had framed everything around her, making it seem as though it was she who had to seek Yulie’s help, she who had to save Her Majesty.

Why only me? Can’t we just go together? Epherene thought.

"Do not worry."

As if he was reading Epherene’s thoughts...

"I will not place this burden upon you," Deculein added with a faint smile. "You are still too young to bear such a burden."

Then, Deculein placed a hand on the nape of Epherene’s neck. The sudden, startling gesture sent a shock through her, causing her entire body to tense as his face moved so close she could see it in perfect detail.

"... It will only be for a moment, Epherene.”

Like a passage from a romance novel, his voice slipped into her ears—a quiet whisper that sank deep into her heart.

"And in that time, you may feel alone.”

Clunk—!

The car bumped violently, and Deculein caught hold of Epherene, stabilizing her against the rough, unpredictable motion of the drive.

“But I promise you this.”

Epherene still couldn’t understand what Deculein was saying. With his face so unbearably close, even the simplest words lost their meaning, his voice a distant murmur. All she could do was swallow, again and again.

“No matter how late I may be."

Deculein reached out with his other arm. One hand remained on the back of her neck, while the other moved past her chest, gripping the car door handle.

“I will follow your time.”

Thunk—

The door swung open, and a gust of wind rushed in. It was only then that Epherene understood his intentions.

"I will overcome regression."

When Deculein's hand brushed over the back of Epherene’s neck, he secured the Wood Steel in place.

"Therefore, until that moment comes...”

What Deculein was about to do was just like that moment at the beginning of the semester from the past...

"Wait until then," Deculein concluded.

The Wood Steel clasped around Epherene’s neck was activated by Telekinesis.

"W-Wait— Aaaaaaaaagh—!"

Just like that, Epherene was thrown out of the speeding car.

“Aaargh—”

The Wood Steel, threaded completely through her robe, sliced through the air with unstoppable force. At the same moment, the car swerved suddenly in the opposite direction of Epherene’s descent.

Whoooooosh...

Racing through the sky at breathtaking speed, Epherene watched the car grow smaller in the distance. Below, she sensed an assassin closing in on Deculein—and in that moment, a shadowed silhouette burned itself into her vision.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

“... Knight,” Epherene muttered.

Epherene knew neither the name nor the identity of the assassin, but one thing was certain—they were a knight. Beneath the robe that concealed the assassin, a glimpse of armor gleamed faintly against the chest.

“Knight...”

With that final memory, Epherene lost consciousness.

... Some time later, when Epherene opened her eyes, she found herself in the secret chamber of the Imperial Palace. The first to approach her were Knight Delic and Ahan, and they told her—Professor Deculein was dead.

***

Pitter-patter— Pitter-patter—

The rain, dark and murky, slithered down the window like open wounds slowly bleeding, leaving behind streaks that branched like spiderwebs. Epherene stared absently at the dirtied glass before turning away, dragging her feet back to the sofa and sinking into it.

Tick, tock— Tick, tock—

The steady ticking of the clock filled the hush of the chamber. Hidden deep within the Imperial Palace and safeguarded by layers of potent security magic, it was a place untouched. On Ahan’s advice, Epherene waited—hoping for time to pass, for April 9th to arrive.

"... She wept like a broken animal," Delic said.

Having returned from Deculein’s funeral, Delic looked completely exhausted.

"Yeriel... Lady Yeriel did?" Epherene asked cautiously.

“Correct.”

Epherene hadn’t even dared to attend the funeral. It wasn’t just because the outside world was dangerous—she just couldn’t bring herself to see Lady Yeriel’s face.

"I thought they never got along..." Delic muttered, letting out a sigh and running a hand over his face.

The memory of Yeriel burned itself into Delic’s mind. Clinging to Deculein’s coffin, clawing at it until her nails split, wailing until she collapsed—nothing of the Yeriel he knew remained in that moment. The sight weighed heavily on his heart.

Epherene watched Delic in silence.

Shhhhhhhh...

Outside the window, the rain pounded, hammering against the glass as if it were trying to break through.

“... Hoo.”

Epherene clenched her teeth and tightened her fists as she listened in silence. Taking a deep breath, she made up her mind.

“Umm, Knight Delic,” Epherene said.

“... Hmm?” Delic muttered, turning to her.

"Please help me," Epherene said, her cheeks puffed up.

Delic furrowed his brows in silence, as if questioning whether he had actually heard such nonsense.

"I have somewhere I need to go."

"Somewhere to go? No, you mustn’t leave. Right now, the only ones who have seen Her Majesty in her critical state are the Professor and you. I am certain that they have their eyes on you as well."

"I have someone I need to meet."

“Someone to meet? Absolutely not!” Delic replied, raising his voice and scolding her like a parent scolding a stubborn child. “You’re not going anywhere! If you’re set on leaving, you’ll have to get through me first.”

“... Heh.”

At first, Epherene had doubted Delic, suspecting he might have played a role in everything that had happened. But after spending a week with him in the Imperial Palace, she naturally came to realize—at least when it came to Deculein—his loyalty was undeniable.

"I know. I understand, but...”

The one Deculein had deemed to trust was Yulie, and if anyone knew the key to this mystery, it would undoubtedly be her. Epherene knew this because she had heard that, just before the Empress’s assassination, thirty knights had been summoned to the Imperial Palace.

Moreover, one of the assassins who had chased Deculein was also a knight. Yulie, being one of the thirty knights summoned by the Empress, would know the identities of the remaining twenty-nine. No matter what, Epherene had to meet her.

"It's a request from my mentor," Epherene said.

Delic’s expression changed, his bearing becoming serious as he asked, “... Is that really the case?”

"Yes. That’s why I also need to stop by the Professor’s mansion first."

Delic hesitated for only a moment before pressing a hand over the medal on his chest and gripping the sword at his waist, then, with a resolute nod, replied, “So be it. If it is the Professor’s request.”

"Okay. Thank you," Epherene said. "Hmm... but how do we get there?"

As Epherene mulled over the plan, her eyes wandered to the window without thinking.

And right at that moment...

“Ahhhhhhhh—!”

Epherene nearly choked on her breath in shock. Outside the Imperial Palace window, standing in the rain, was Sylvia—drenched from head to toe and as still as a ghost, sending a chill straight through Epherene.