A Villain's Will to Survive - Chapter 283: Theory of Relativity (2)
Chapter 283: Theory of Relativity (2)
In the Magical Realm, the term Academia referred both to the scholarly community centered on the mysteries of magic and to the networked library system run by the continent’s Mage Towers, which was bound together by a magical archive—something like a central server—that connected ideas across regions like a magical intranet.
Any thesis submitted to Academia became accessible to every mage across the continent who could read, criticize, debate, or cite it, and if the work held up under examination it would be recognized as a formal theory with copyright protection, but if it failed it would be shelved away in the library, lost beneath innumerable other forgotten papers.
“… With all due respect, Professor, you’ve been too soft on her,” Relin said in a voice heavy with meaning. “We all know Epherene’s not just any student—she’s your late assistant’s daughter.”
Today, the Head Professor’s office on the 77th floor was busier than ever, packed with more visitors than usual.
“However, that has led to too many things being overlooked. But this thesis—this one crossed the line. There’s no room left for compassion now.”
Relin, Ihelm, and even Louina—said to be one of the most respected professors in the Mage Tower—were all present.
“Epherene was never fit to be your protégé, Professor, let alone one worthy of the Yukline name, and she lacks the talent, the discipline, and the merit. It’s time you made a decision—”
“We’ll convene the Personnel Committee,” I interrupted, silencing Relin before he could say another word.
Back when Epherene was just an undergrad at the Mage Tower, she had already been dragged before the Disciplinary Committee. The Personnel Committee was a whole other level because professors, board members, and even the Chairwoman had to sign off, representing the essence of a harsh society that chose order over compassion.
“The… Personnel Committee, Professor?” Relin replied, the words catching in his throat—even he, who had demanded decisive action, was shocked.
Louina’s eyes widened.
“Why the surprise? In our line of work, even mentors and protégés have spilled each other’s blood more times than we can count. But—are you sure about this, Head Professor?” Ihelm said with a chuckle.
“For one who submits a thesis such as this, nothing less will do,” I said, pointing to Epherene’s work with my finger.
Proper Integration of Magic and Science : Cooperative Advancement
“The severity of the discipline will depend on her attitude and her defense,” I added with a gesture, signaling that the matter was closed.
As I mentioned the Personnel Committee, the professors seemed to get the picture and muttered among themselves—some saying it was inevitable, others insisting it was excessive, a few blaming it on her commoner background—then filed out of the room.
“Umm, Professor Deculein, isn’t the Personnel Committee a bit harsh for someone turning in her very first thesis—”
“Leave,” I interrupted Louina, the only one who dared speak in her defense, without a shred of hesitation.
Louina kept sneaking glances my way as she made her way out of the room.
Once the office fell silent, I took up Epherene’s thesis and began reading from the very first line—’as a mage who seeks nothing but the truth of magic’—and made my way through her words.
“… Hmm.”
The thesis was better than I had expected, although it was bordering disrespect to magic, but the structure held the reasoning was more solid than I’d given it credit for.
It seemed that Epherene had taken my advice because there wasn’t a single line claiming that science and magic were equal but rather she wrote of harmony and how science, if used to support magic, could create something greater, which made it a rare display of restraint from her and, if read with an open mind, a thesis worth accepting.
“This won’t do.”
Convincing the Floating Island was another matter entirely because the nobles—including myself—were too shackled by Elitism and too attached to treating mana as something divine. Even if the thesis were perfect, it wouldn’t matter until Epherene became an Archmage and the new paradigm herself.
Knock, knock—
At that moment, a knock came—not from the door, but from the window behind me—and I turned toward it.
“Hehe.”
Outside the window on the 77th floor stood Ria, a child with an innocent smile—the same child I’d met before. The moment our eyes met, she smiled and passed through the window using Elementalization, slipping through as if nothing were solid at all.
“What brings you here?” I inquired as I laid the thesis down.
“Oh~ You remember what you said that time, right?” Ria said as she dropped into the seat across from me. “You said you’d let me learn from you. I was wondering… if you still mean it.”
Without a word, I stared at Ria as she sat across from me, hands gathered on her knees, returning my look. The silence dragged on, broken only by the ticking clock, as I resumed reading Epherene’s thesis while Ria smacked her lips, as if drying from the inside out.
“… I’ve been going around the far edges of the continent,” Ria said, breaking the silence first.
I arched my brow in silence.
“I’ve been to so many places—Leoc, Varane, the Land of Destruction, even the Sanctuary of the Altar. There’s not a corner of this continent I haven’t explored. I ran into all kinds of trouble, cleared some really scary dungeons, and even helped defend villages with my adventure team.”
Ria launched straight into a tale of her adventures while I leaned back in the chair, letting her words wash over me.
“And I’ve got a ton of scars too. See this dark mark on my collarbone? Here—this dark spot’s from a bullet. This scar on my cheek was from a sword scraping me, and this red spot on my side was from a harpoon that stuck me there…” Ria continued, as if each scar had its own story.
Then Ria added, “And my left arm got cut off once too, but I managed to get it reattached in time. Lucky for me, a mage from the Harmony Category was nearby, so that’s the only reason I made it. The treatment cost a fortune though—was it twenty thousand elne? Pretty cheap for getting a whole arm back, I guess.”
Ria smiled, then raised her right hand with a hint of hesitation.
“But the right one was too late for that… so it’s now just a prosthetic,” Ria added, opening and closing the small fingers again and again.
“Do you not have any parents?” I inquired, watching her.
“… Sorry?” Ria muttered, her brow tightening as she pouted. “… I don’t have any. I was born on an island and raised there too.”
I couldn’t believe it—Ria was far too young to be throwing herself into danger like that, but what shook me the most was how much she was like her, always pushing forward with a smile, even when breaking inside and never once asking for help, because Ria was just the same.
“Anyway, if you’re going to be the one teaching me, Professor, and if I’m going to be learning from you, then… I just thought it’d be right for you to know a little more about me—that’s all,” Ria concluded.
I supposed that, in her own way, Ria had just finished introducing herself, though the problem was how little any of it matched the age written on her face.
“Starting tomorrow, report to the Yukline mansion. I’ll have that right prosthetic arm replaced. I know a puppeteer whose skill is unmatched,” I replied, nodding.
“Oh—really? But I don’t think I can afford something like that.”
“The last revelation you delivered has proven invaluable in interpreting the Holy Language, and it will continue to serve its purpose.”
Ria brought just one sentence—the last Holy Language—and, more than that, someone had already translated it, which alone was enough for someone like me, with enough Comprehension to dig into its bottomless depths.
“Meaning, there is no price you need to pay,” I added.
“… Okay,” Ria replied.
“Now leave.”
“Okay!”
At my words, Ria pushed herself up from the chair and made for the door without a word but stopped with her hand on the knob, hesitating before glancing back at me over her shoulder.
“But, Professor, is the Personnel Committee really that big of a punishment?”
“The punishment hasn’t been determined yet, but expulsion from the institution remains the most severe possibility.”
Ria’s expression changed in an instant, worrying clouding her face like a sudden storm.
When did Epherene start getting close to someone like her? I thought.
“This is an offensive thesis—one that might well place her at odds with every mage alive—and if she’s an adult, as she claims to be, then she must be prepared to face the consequences of her own actions,” I added, shaking my head.
Among the mages of this age, integrating magic and science would be condemned as nothing short of heresy. But Epherene would endure it all, make her way through with resolve, and, through the bitterest hardships, earn her name as the Archmage all would one day admire.
“… Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
… Honk, honk— Honk, honk—
Sylvia’s Island, where geese cried beneath skies brushed by sea wind, was an emerald jewel floating off the continent with a vibrant ecosystem in perfect harmony, and once the heart of the Voice’s presence, it still whispered haunting echoes on certain moonless nights.
However, adventurers continued to arrive, drawn by the mystery of exploration, and at its highest point stood Sylvia’s Lighthouse, with the whole island stretching out below.
“Foolish Epherene…” muttered Sylvia, the master of the island, biting her lip as her fingers tightened around Epherene’s thesis.
“What’s wrong~? Which thesis are you talking about? I picked up every new one the Academia has put out—just like you asked,” Ganesha replied, tilting her head in curiosity.
“It’s not a good thesis, and it is far too insulting,” Sylvia said, shaking her head.
The integration of magic and science—viewing mana through a scientific lens—was heresy to many, and Sylvia, a noble mage raised in one of the great houses, couldn’t help but reject the idea, as the phrase alone sparked something instinctive—an inherited aversion bred from centuries of belief.
“Hmm~ But more importantly, the retrieval of the Voice is underway, right?”
It was no surprise—Ganesha didn’t care for magic theses or scholarly arguments.
What mattered now was that the Red Garnet Adventure Team had committed themselves entirely to Sylvia, and if they could help retrieve the phenomenon of the Voice spreading across the continent, they had secured a promise of a staggering reward from both Sylvia and the House of Iliade—if they succeeded.
“It is underway.”
“Hmm, it’s just a little bittersweet, really~ but if this continent ever falls, maybe you’ll be able to create the next world~” Ganesha said, her hand resting on the edge of the lighthouse balcony.
From the lighthouse balcony, the entire island came into view: below, Leo and Carlos were locked in sparring practice against a puppet created by Sylvia, while farther off, Dozmu and Reylie lounged in hammocks, basking in the sun’s warmth and the ocean breeze.
“Isn’t this basically the authority of creation itself~? I was supposed to be working, but it feels more like a holiday.”
“Has the thief not been caught yet,” Sylvia said as she turned and dropped Epherene’s thesis on the desk.
“Oh~ no, not yet—unfortunately, still at large.”
Last week, a thief slipped onto the island, and one of Sylvia’s paintings and a mana stone infused with the power of the Voice disappeared.
“Will it be a big problem if they’re not caught? Was the stolen item really that important?” Ganesha asked.
“No, not really, but…” Sylvia muttered, her lips pouting.
The mana stone of the Voice doesn’t matter much—but Deculein’s painting, now that’s another story. It was one of my favorites, and it was far too beautiful to lose like this, Sylvia thought.
“Anyway, it shouldn’t take more than six months,” Sylvia added.
“Six months~? That’s way sooner than I’d anticipated,” Ganesha replied.
“Yes.”
With at most six more months, the recovery of the Voice would be complete, and Sylvia would at last be able to leave the island.
“It’s almost completed.”
If I put in a little more effort, I’ll be able to stand by Deculein’s side and provide the strength he needs, and…
“Foolish Epherene.”
I’d finally be able to smack Epherene on the forehead for being such a fool, Epherene thought.
“Integrating magic and science—what a fool you are.”
Epherene’s arrogant ideas were one thing, but Sylvia had firsthand experience with the Floating Island—the twisted stalking they subjected her to.
“… The Floating Island might go after you,” Sylvia muttered, her fingers tightening around the lighthouse balcony, worry evident in her voice.
***
Late into the night, in the annex of the Yukline mansion—remodeled into a modern laboratory for my private research in both magic and science—I stood staring into the Snowflower Stone.
Whooooosh—
It hovered just above my palm, a crystal of white and blue resonating with mana, and I stared at it in silence, lost in thought over how to enhance it.
[Comprehension : 99%]
From the absolute bottom, I had struggled my way to ninety-nine percent Comprehension of the Snowflower Stone—a level more than enough for most. But it wasn’t enough. I had discovered one last method to take it even further, a realization that came as I understood the truths hidden in Decalane’s Study of Art Magic.
“Magicore.”
The foundation of the process was clear—to complete the transformation, the Snowflower Stone had to become a Magicore, which required a genuine heart to serve as its core, not just any heart, but one firm enough to withstand its force and clear enough to match its essence, and I didn’t need to go searching for it because that heart had been beating inside me all along.
“If I were to use the heart of a Yukline… my power would grow severalfold at the very least,” I muttered.
Of all the organs in this world, none were more durable or resilient than the heart of a Yukline, and since this heart was mine, if I were to bind the Snowflower Stone to it, integrate them completely, and command it as my own, the numbers were clear that the resulting stat boost would be no less than twice what I had now.
It wasn’t merely a matter of combat strength, as the merging would elevate my entire set of specs as a mage, with my mana carrying the essence of the Snowflower Stone and amplifying everything—my spells in Manipulation and Ductility categories, and even my physical performance.
“But it all comes down to one thing—overload.”
However, there was one critical downside—overload.
… Then there’s no reason to hold back, I thought.
Huuuuum—
As I closed my fingers around the Snowflower Stone, its glow pulsing against my palm, I moved to begin the modification and…
“Brother.”
A voice slipped past my ear like a whisper as a cool breeze crept in through the cracked door, and I turned toward it without a word.
“… Isn’t it going to be dangerous?”
It was Yeriel, watching me from the doorway, and though I wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, the worry in her eyes was clear.
“It’s all within the scope of calculation,” I replied.
“Then I’ll assist you too,” Yeriel replied, taking a single step forward.
At that moment, I caught sight of the book she held close—it was Study of Art Magic by Decalane.
“… I really can do this with you. You need an assistant for magic research, don’t you?”
I hesitated at Yeriel’s words, uncertain for a moment, but then noticed her hand trembling with a fear she couldn’t name.
With slight hesitation, I nodded and replied, “But only if you follow my instructions—”
“What are you talking about? I said I can do it too.”
No sooner had I allowed her to assist than Yeriel straightened up, her face blooming with confidence—and I regretted it almost instantly.
I should’ve just kicked her out, I thought.
“All I ever hear from you is do what you say. What, am I some kind of puppet or something?” Yeriel said.
It was my fault—I should’ve known better than to fall for the way she said brother to me, and I had no one to blame but myself…
