A Villain's Will to Survive-Chapter 238: Sylvia (1) Part 2

“Weak limbs make for a heavy mind,” I muttered.

“... Say what now?” Rogerio said.

Standing on the deck of Rogerio’s ship, I passed on Rohakan’s words and looked out toward the Island of the Voice. The storm of mana still raged over that island of mortal danger, and the howl of nature roared with double the violence it had before.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Epherene asked, her brow furrowed as the storm pressed close around the ship.

Without a word, I pulled off my watch, took off my coat, and tossed it toward Epherene.

“Ooof!”

Epherene nearly lost her balance as she caught the heavy coat I’d thrown her way.

“Wait—you’re actually going to swim in this weather, Professor?” Epherene asked, staring at me in disbelief as if I’d lost my mind.

I nodded.

“No—that’s not possible. Any other island, maybe. But that’s the Voice. It’s no island—it’s a demon the sea keeps breathing in its waves.”

“And what of it?”

"You said it yourself, Professor—that the waves spread infinitely. If you try to swim through them, the island will only keep slipping farther away. And you'll lose all sense of time," Epherene said, her brow tightening as she looked straight at me.

Night had fallen deep over the sea, and though many mages were aboard Rogerio’s ship, all were now asleep. I had chosen this moment on purpose—no doubt someone like Epherene would have had plenty to say otherwise.

“Even that has no hold on me,” I said, stepping toward the railing of the ship.

With her words catching in her throat, Epherene said, "No—Professor, wait—"

Epherene rushed to stop me, but I didn’t answer, only looking down at the surface of the sea, where the waters were rough and rolled over a depth that could have been thousands of meters. No one knew what oceanic beasts might live down there in the dark—but I wasn’t too concerned.

“Please, just get down,” Epherene said, grabbing my arm and pulling.

However, to an Iron Man, her strength was barely that of a small puppy’s tug. I looked up at the moon, hanging high above, round like a steamed bun—looking just like Epherene's face.

“Professor, please just come down—argh!”

I pushed Epherene down below deck, and she tumbled, landing awkwardly on her bum on the floor.

“Ow! Come on!” Epherene yelled, rubbing her back.

"Epherene, once a forefather of Yukline, found himself standing before the same dilemma—and left behind a question," I said.

One phrase from the autobiography of a Yukline family head stayed in my mind—for reasons I couldn’t explain, it remained clear as ever.

“‘... Humans fear demons. That is how we were made. But if so, what must Yukline be when seen through a demon’s eyes?’”

It was a question that ran to the very core of what it meant to be part of the Yukline bloodline.

“To me, the answer has always been simple. If humans were born to fear demons, then Yukline must become something no demon dares call human.”

The purpose of the House, to exterminate demons, wasn’t just tradition—it was woven into the fabric of the world itself, compelling Deculein and igniting a passion in him that left no room for anything else.

“No deed born of man is enough to banish a demon.”

That’s why Yukline was never meant to be humane—nor was it allowed to be—and perhaps that’s the root of why Deculein turned out the way he did.

"Therefore, the demons fear Yukline. And if they know no fear, then let it be me who shows them what fear is," I concluded.

“But—”

“If you object—then tell me, what other path is there to save Sylvia?”

Epherene remained silent.

Though I couldn’t quite understand, Epherene seemed to consider Sylvia a friend.

“Stay with Primien, as she will be needed for the records and for what must follow,” I ordered.

“... Yes, Professor,” Epherene said, letting go of me without another word.

I nodded without a word and, without a moment's hesitation, dove into the sea.

Splash—!

The sound hit first, then the water—salt in my eyes, cold water soaking through, and the ocean’s mana driving deep into my chest. And there, within it all, I looked toward the Island of the Voice. However long it took—weeks, months, years—it didn’t matter. Its fate was already written, and my existence alone made it inevitable.

The demons will be exterminated—and I’m the one who will see it through.

***

... Sylvia was with her mother, counting stars under the night sky, the breeze brushing against her like something warm and kind. It was a happiness that felt almost unreal.

"Mom," Sylvia called, smiling as she did every day and night.

“Yes~?” Cielia replied, matching her daughter’s smile.

"I wish this moment could last forever and never end."

“... Hmm. Forever?”

Then Cielia’s expression turned slightly strange, and for a moment, she reached up to her chin, fingertips brushing it in hesitation, as if unsure of what to say.

"Why, mom? Can it not be?"

Sylvia felt a sudden pang of fear, though perhaps there was no reason for it.

"No, not forever~ We live on different clocks, you and I. I hope you live for ages and ages, Sylvia," Cielia replied with a bright smile.

“... That’s not what I meant,” Sylvia said, puffing out her cheeks.

“Then what is it?” Cielia asked, poking her daughter’s puffed cheeks with her fingertip.

“... Just until my heart learns how to let go.”

"I don’t want a goodbye that hurts too much. I want love that’s whole, and a goodbye that comes naturally. I want to marry, have a child, and live a happy life. And one day, when I’m strong enough to say goodbye to you the right way, I want it to be natural, not like the end," Sylvia thought.

"To me, that means forever. That’s okay, isn’t it?"

“No,” Cielia replied, shaking her head as her hand brushed over Sylvia’s head, her seriousness rare for her.

“... Why?”

It’s not fair. Why must the answer always be no? Do you not want me, Mom? It’s because I love you more than anything, and all I want is for us to be happy—together, finding a way to a happy ending.

"I’m only going to be here until he gets here."

Cielia always spoke of him, but Sylvia—it had been so long that she couldn’t even remember who he was anymore.

“Just until he gets here, Mommy will protect you,” Cielia said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Sylvia looked up at her mother, her breath catching, the sorrow on her face just short of spilling over.

“And once he gets here...”

It will be a goodbye, Sylvia thought.

Sylvia didn’t want to hear her mother say goodbye, so she turned away and glared at the horizon stretching beyond the harbor, where the lighthouse lit the surface of the waves. Stealing a glance back at her mother, she quietly mouthed the words her mother had once spoken.

“Just until he gets here...” Sylvia muttered.

And then... Sylvia removed a part of the sea.