A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 239: Sylvia (2) Part 2

... Meanwhile, Epherene sat nearby the ship’s railing, staring out at the water.

“Professor, do you copy? Over. Epherene here. Say something if you’re getting this. Over,” Epherene said.

As Epherene sent her message through the crystal orb connected to Deculein...

Pat!

Someone gave Epherene’s shoulder a playful nudge.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Epherene jumped and turned around—standing behind her was Primien, deputy director of the Ministry of Public Safety.

“Ahhh! Ahhhhhhhhh—!”

Epherene glared through Primien and screamed, her fright still raw in her voice and written all over her face.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—! Aghhhhhhhhhh—!”

Primien remained silent.

“What was that fooooor—?!”

“Was that really so shocking?” Primien asked.

“You scared the life out of me!”

Primien silently nodded and seated herself beside Epherene and said, "They told me Professor Deculein is somewhere out there in the sea."

"... Yes. Professor went into the sea—said he’d reach it by swimming."

“You’re not going with him?”

"Me? I can't. How could I possibly follow him to somewhere like that?"

The storm still raged on, a tempest soaked in mana. It was the kind of disaster that even Zeit—the King of Winter—might not survive if he stepped into it.

“Is Professor going to be alright?”

"... Yes. He'll survive. Professor always does."

Epherene knew—at least for now—that Deculein doesn’t die, that he will live, and continue living far beyond a future she cannot yet reach.

Which means the professor remains invincible... But wait—does that mean the future where he dies won't change? If he dies in the distant future, does that mean the present holds no danger at all? No, that's not right. Instead, shouldn’t we be trying to change to a future where he doesn’t die at all? Epherene thought. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

"Of course we have to change it," Epherene muttered, letting out a scoff. "If it can't be changed, what kind of future is that? The future is meant to be rewritten."

"Who are you talking to?"

"... Nothing," Epherene replied as she slipped her hand to her waist and grabbed her pocket watch.

Epherene still didn’t know what the wooden pocket watch was for, and its purpose remained a mystery in her hands.

"What might that be?" Primien asked.

"I have no idea. It doesn’t seem to do anything."

"Do you mind if I take a look at it?"

Without a word, Epherene carefully tucked the pocket watch back into her belt, then met Primien’s eyes with thinly veiled distrust.

"Trust me," Primien added. "Hypotheses happen to be my area of expertise."

“... Hypotheses?”

"Correct," Primien said, tapping a finger to her temple. "Multifaceted thinking—that’s my talent and specialty. It holds up everywhere but in the world of stocks. That one answers only to madness."

“... Please return it right after.”

Epherene hesitated, but gave in to the reasoning that she wouldn’t understand it on her own. With uncertain fingers, she handed the pocket watch to Primien.

Primien held the pocket watch in her palm and then drew forth her thoughts—an attribute known as the Manifestation of Thought and Memory. Through it, she could process every angle, every possibility, and shape them into clear hypotheses, allowing what might take a month of thought to be completed in ten minutes.

"... This might be a catalyst," Primien said.

“Catalyst?”

"Yes, a catalyst designed to magnify a mage’s output."

"Oh, I thought so too. But no matter how many times I tried, it didn’t do anything at all."

"Or maybe it functions as a catalyst for sourcing the item with a certain type of mana."

“... An item?” Epherene asked, frowning as if the thought didn’t quite sit right.

“Try placing something—anything—on top of the pocket watch,” Primien said, nodding as she returned it.

“... On top of it?”

"Maybe start with that crystal orb."

There was hesitation in her expression, but Epherene accepted it and placed the crystal orb onto the pocket watch.

"Can you hear me, Professor?" Epherene whispered into the crystal orb.

... Of course not. Just as I thought, Epherene thought, shaking her head.

Primien cleared her throat and said, "Ahem. Not all hypotheses hold up—"

— I can hear you.

"Eeeeeeeeeek!" Epherene screamed, nearly jumping out of her skin. "Oh! You made it, Professor! Did you find Sylvia?"

— ... I am Sylvia.

“Wait—what? Why do you have Professor’s crystal orb?”

— Because I took it.

“What are you talking about—”

Suddenly, dizziness washed over Epherene, and her mana poured out in a rush as her limbs loosened. The sensation was familiar, something she had felt before—something from long ago, from a place where time tangled and splintered...

"Deputy Director, something about this feels a bit strange—wait, are you sleeping?" Epherene said, turning to Primien.

Primien’s head had slumped to her chest. Just moments ago, she’d been perfectly alert—now she was fast asleep, as if she had been switched off.

“Anyway. Sylvia, you—”

Epherene froze mid-sentence as someone’s words from the past returned to her memory.

“Establishing contact between the current timeline and a future counterpart calls for a significant expenditure of mana.”

The pocket watch slipped in Epherene’s fingers—she almost lost hold of it.

“No way.”

Gulp—

Epherene swallowed hard, sorting through a tangle of thoughts before looking down at the crystal orb placed on top of the pocket watch.

“Sylvia, what’s going on over there?”

Could this Sylvia be Sylvia from the near future, and not her in the present? And this wooden pocket watch—maybe it’s a catalyst bridging her time with mine? Epherene thought.

Then, Sylvia said.

— I killed Deculein.

"... What? What is that supposed to—”

Epherene’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief, and a violent shock crashed through her skull, leaving her thoughts spinning as if she had a concussion.

"Ugh... Grrk..."

Epherene’s mouth foamed, her breath catching on something bitter, but she forced herself through it and pulled the crystal orb free from the pocket watch, then hung the watch back on her belt, gripping the orb tightly in her palm.

"... My head’s splitting.”

Epherene hadn’t blacked out, but she could feel that her mana was nearly gone, scraped down to the dregs.

Drip— Drip— Drip—

And a thin line of blood dripped from Epherene’s nose.

"Thank you, Deputy Director," Epherene said to Primien, who was sleeping—or rather, unconscious.

Then, with no time to spare, Epherene pressed what little mana remained into the crystal orb.

“Professor! Professor!”

In a future not far from now, Sylvia claimed she had killed Deculein. Oddly enough, it was the most helpful hint she could have given.

“Professor! Professor!”

No one could say if it had come from the future or if it was just one of Sylvia’s lies, but a future, once known, was one that could be undone, as futures were meant to be rewritten.

"Professor! I'll speak to you every minute! If you can hear me, say something!"

***

Land met my feet after forcing my way through the stormy sea of mana, and the Island of the Voice greeted me in silence. However, unexpectedly, there was no sign of demons—no trace of demonic energy on the island.

— Professor!

Craackle—

Only then did the crystal orb begin to crackle, for in the sea’s depths, it had remained silent beneath the water—oceanic mana always smothered the connection of voices before they could reach.

“I have arrived,” I said.

— Oh, thank goodness! Professor! Sylvia said she killed you!

I remained silent.

— That's what Sylvia from the future told me! I know how the pocket watch works now! But it’s fine—we can change it! Whatever you do, don’t let Sylvia take your crystal orb!

I took in what Epherene said, then switched off the crystal orb as someone stood on the far side of the beach, at the edge of the shore, staring straight at me.

“... Sylvia.”

Sylvia’s eyes were on me, with no movement on her face and no emotion behind those eyes.

"It’s been a while," I said, straightening my tie, running a hand over my soaked coat with Cleanse to dry the seawater, and smoothing my hair and tie back into place.

Sylvia still didn’t speak a word; she only glared at me for another long while. I didn’t look away, as I had no reason to.

"... Follow me. There’s something I need to say to you," Sylvia said, already turning.

With a nod, I stepped forward and replied, "Good, I had something to say—"

"No, don’t take another step."

“Explain.”

“This is the Island of the Voice. Those who died long ago, entire races that were extinct a long time ago, and the Voice’s fanatics, they all live here," Sylvia said as she approached, her steps uncertain—but she kept walking, each one bearing the weight of conflicted emotions. "If they see you alone, they'll try to kill you."

Before I knew it, Sylvia had stepped closer, almost within reach, looking up at me, nearly at my chin—taller than I remembered. ... Sylvia had indeed grown, though only now did I notice the heels she was wearing.

"Don't die just yet."

Sylvia extended her hand toward me—no, only two fingers. Then, with just her thumb and forefinger, she pinched the edge of my sleeve, as if picking up something unwanted.

"It won't be dangerous as long as you stay with me. So stay close to my side," Sylvia continued, her tone as flat as ever.

Sylvia looked almost unrecognizable compared to a year ago, but her voice still held that same monotone, exactly as I remembered.

“Professor! Sylvia said she killed you!”

Then, Epherene's words from earlier came to my mind.

"Very well. Will you be giving me the tour of the island, Sylvia?" I replied, nodding.

"Don't you dare say my name with that mouth," Sylvia said, pinching the edge of my sleeve between her fingers—her version of a jab, it seemed.

"As you wish," I replied, undisturbed.

"Don't let go of my hand."

Sylvia led the way. I couldn’t tell if we were holding hands, but I kept close behind her. As the beach gave way to pavement, the city opened up—homes with low, round blue roofs and magic shops scattered throughout the blocks of the Voice. From corners and windows, I could feel the eyes of strangers watching.

However, none of them held the faintest trace of demonic energy—and that was the part I couldn’t make sense of.

“Hungry.”

Sylvia said it more like a statement—no change in tone, no pause. But I’d heard that voice enough to know it was a question from past memories.

“What makes you ask that?”

"Because you swam."

Sylvia pointed ahead—just a small cart by the curb. The sign said hot dogs.

“That one’s really tasty. Not hungry," Sylvia asked, pinching my sleeve between her fingers with an innocent tilt of her head.

“I don’t need it,” I replied with a shake of my head.

Sylvia's head dipped just slightly in a nod. For a second, she looked almost sad, but it soon faded and iced over in an instant.

“Hungry, let me know,” Sylvia said once more.

“Hello~ A flower for the lovely couple~?”

At that moment, a woman carrying a basket of flowers walked toward our direction.

“Hrrrrrrrrrrrkkk—” Sylvia growled, her eyes flaring as a strange, guttural sound slipped unbidden from her throat.

“Oh my goodness—I’m so sorry~!" the woman cried, clutching her basket as she hurried off.

"Don't look at them. Don't speak to anyone. Out here, anyone means danger," Sylvia muttered, barely turning her eyes toward me.

It was a kindness I hadn't expected from her.