A Villain's Will to Survive
Chapter 276: Your Responsibility (2)

Chapter 276: Your Responsibility (2)

As the volcano erupted, the continent's axis trembled, the crust heaved, and the searing heat from deep underground writhed like a living thing. A storm laced with ash swept across the land, and the gas and mana exposed to the air ignited in a chain of massive explosions.

Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!

If the end of the world had a shape and came with fireworks, this would be it. The Magicore wrapped around the volcano had long since lost its function, warped, shattered, and splintered from direct contact with the magma infused with mana. The spell Epherene cast to support it was far too weak—completely useless in the face of such destruction.

The deafening roar pressed in on Epherene’s muffled ears, the rivers of magma crashing down in torrents, and the blistering heat of wild mana—all of it unfolded in slow motion.

The disaster that would go down in history, capable of erasing both Yuren and the Ashes, played out with terrifying clarity. Every explosion etched itself into her mind like a web spreading across glass, while volcanic ash descended with a weight as heavy and majestic as a giant's hand.

Eeeeee—

The ringing in her ears pounded through her skull.

“Help...”

Through the haze, Epherene turned her eyes back to Deculein, hoping—even then—that he would save her.

However, the moment she met Deculein’s eyes, the last of her hope slipped away.

Deculein’s clear blue eyes—Yukline’s eyes—met hers in silence, conveying everything without a word—this was her doing, her responsibility to bear, a catastrophe born of her greed and masked by the naivety of misplaced kindness.

“Do you understand now?” Deculein said.

Kraaaaaaaaaash—!

In the blink of an eye, the magma swallowed Deculein whole and dragged him under the flow of magma, while the puppet, Arlos, had already been torn in half and was crumbling.

“... Ah.”

Watching Deculein and Arlos disappear before her eyes too quickly, she dropped to the ground in a daze. The ground beneath her was searing hot, hot enough to sear her skin—but it might as well have been ice, as she didn’t feel a thing.

Gruuuuuuuumble...

Then came the tremor from behind—a grinding noise that felt like it was splitting the earth—as Epherene turned toward it with hollow eyes, a bitter laugh escaped her lips, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

Ruuuuuumble...!

The magma rose like a tidal wave, surging toward her and rising high enough to scrape the sky, shimmering in the light—brilliant and deadly—as it moved to swallow Epherene whole.

“Shit...” Epherene muttered, grinding her teeth.

Something inside Epherene snapped as a heat she didn’t understand burned in her chest—fury at this madness of nature, fury at herself for charging in blind and thinking she could do anything—and gritting her teeth, she reached into the fire.

As the magma roared and its molten maw reached toward her like a living beast, Epherene poured every ounce of mana and focus into the spell, calculating the pattern, forming the circuit, and creating the magic circle in a flash—burning through her entire body’s mana in a single breath.

As a result...

Whoooooosh—!

A vivid aura flared to life as a transparent barrier rose to block the magma, and with her eyes widened, Epherene reached out without thinking to press a finger against the shimmering surface.

“... There.”

It was a spell born entirely of Epherene’s own power—an application of allotropy, the most basic characteristic of carbon, drawn from a fragment of Deculein and Luna’s thesis.

By synthesizing the caster’s mana into a polymer and linking it in a hexagonal framework like a beehive, the spell formed a barrier—an intricate web of covalent bonds at the sub-nano scale—that Deculein had once defined with a single word as nanotube.

Therefore, there was no way that damned magma could ever break through this invincible barrier...

“No, it’s not?!”

But something was wrong—a hairline gap in the spell let a narrow stream of magma slide through.

“Oh, it’s hot!”

At first, it was just heat, but in the very next moment, it set Epherene’s heart ablaze.

***

“Ahhhhh—!”

On the couch in the Head Professor’s office at the Mage Tower of the Imperial University, Epherene suddenly let out a scream that was more than just a scream, her whole body trembling as if something unseen had torn through her.

“Oh, it’s hot! It’s hooooot—! Ahhhhhh! Help me. Oh, no! I can’t even see! Oh, my heart!”

Whether she’d lost her mind for a moment or experienced another prophetic dream, an outburst like this wasn’t all that surprising for one such as Epherene.

Seated in his chair in the Head Professor’s office, recovering his mana, Deculein turned to Epherene and inquired, “What is it?”

“Ughhhhh...Oh?”

Epherene thrashed in her sleep before snapping awake, bolting upright and gasping for breath as she looked over at Deculein, then down at her chest where her hands had scratched raw, not realizing they were hers.

“... Wow. Wow...”

Then, wearing the calmest expression she’d had all day, Epherene leaned back into the couch.

“Time to go. We’re heading back to Yuren,” Deculein said.

“... Professor, it was yesterday you created the Magicore, right?" Epherene asked.

“Indeed.”

Then, when Epherene saw the Magicore resting on Deculein’s desk, she realized what she’d seen in her dream was the future.

“I’m so glad—”

“Has a volcano erupted?” Deculein inquired.

“Yes,” Epherene replied, startled by the question, though her answer came with honesty.

“Did the Magicore fail to hold it back?”

“... Sorry? I’m... not entirely sure, but no, it didn’t seem to work.”

Then Deculein gave a nod, and although Epherene had explained it all terribly, he somehow seemed to understand the situation.

“Have you come to understand it now?” Deculein inquired.

Epherene said nothing as she pressed her face with both hands, the experience so vivid that she couldn’t tell if it had been a prophetic dream or a regression.

“... Yes.”

Epherene realized that sometimes good intentions without strength lead to worse outcomes than actual cruelty—that the wish to save everyone might, in the end, be what destroys them all, and...

“Professor, how is it you always know everything?” Epherene asked, unable to hide the question that had remained in her thoughts.

“What is it you think I know?”

“You already decided that we couldn’t protect both places from the volcano—even before the Magicore was made."

“It was a calculation,” Deculein replied as he pushed himself up from his chair. “The sulfur in the atmosphere, the mana concentration, the heat of the magma, the recorded cases and cycles of past volcanic eruptions—factoring in all of it, including the projected capacity of the Magicore I intended to create...”

Deculein was undoubtedly a brilliant professor, but Epherene struggled to keep up with the thoughts spinning through his mind—and of course, he never bothered to explain them.

Is this what it means to be a supervising professor? Epherene thought.

“The conclusion is clear—the Ashes were never within protection.”

Epherene held her silence, her lips drawn tight.

The memory of that disaster—the explosion—still played before Epherene’s eyes as if it had happened barely five minutes before she woke up.

Thud—

Before she realized it, Deculein’s dress shoes had stopped right in front of the couch.

“Tell me.”

Epherene looked up at him.

“Will you surrender?”

Although Epherene’s heart was still racing, the professor remained calm—just like always—as magma rushed toward him, and even knowing what was about to happen, he hadn’t flinched, his composure almost unreal.

“I get what you are trying to say, Professor,” Epherene said.

Deculein looked down at Epherene in silence.

“If I have to choose one or the other—Yuren or the Ashes—I will make my decision just as you would, Professor.”

Between the Principality of Yuren—a nation of innocent people and their princess, Maho—and the Ashes—ruled by rogue mages and outlaws who bowed to neither law nor conscience—there was no real choice, and even a toddler would have chosen Yuren.

“Of course I would choose to abandon the Ashes, since they are worse and too many have already chosen the wrong side.”

Even after Epherene said that, Deculein gave no response at all.

“But that’s only if a decision has to be made, Professor,” Epherene continued, swallowing hard, then clenching both fists as she looked up at the Professor. “If there’s a way to avoid deciding who at all—”

“Do you believe such a method lies within reach?” Deculein inquired.

Epherene glanced at the Magicore—there it was, hovering on the desk, glowing like a blue planet.

“The Magicore remains incomplete.”

"I know, Professor. But if I help, it could be different.”

Deculein frowned slightly, his expression tightening by the smallest degree.

“I get it now—the part of the thesis that is the hardest and matters the most. Look—right here!” Epherene continued, pointing to a passage of the thesis.

... This structure—composed of polymer atoms arranged in a hexagonal honeycomb framework—is defined herein as a nanotube. It is a form most commonly observed in carbon, though it can also be synthesized through artificial means. The general length-to-diameter ratio of the nanotube is as follows.

“This—nanotube thing. When I first read about them, I honestly had no idea what any of it meant, and to be honest, I still kind of don’t. The length-to-diameter ratio? It’s just an overwhelming wall of numbers.”

Deculein shook his head.

“However.”

The mana nanotube—whether it came from a dream or a regression—was a circuit she had already cracked, having done it once before. Magic was always like that—impossible the first time, easy the second.

“Look at this,” Epherene added, closing her eyes as the mana within her began to move.

Whoooosh—

Without struggle or delay, a barrier shaped like a tube burst from Epherene’s hand like a beam of light, a seamless framework of mana—a perfectly formed nanotube.

However, Deculein scanned it in silence, then shook his head and said, “It is incomplete.”

“... Yes, I know, since the magma got through. So...” Epherene replied as she pushed herself up from the couch. “Please tell me.”

Deculein remained silent.

“I read the thesis over and over, trying to understand what I was lacking. But no matter how many times I did, I couldn’t figure it out myself. If you don’t tell me, I swear—I’ll starve until you do.”

Then Deculein tilted his head slightly and sighed, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or merely tired of it all.

“Before anything else, you must understand the definition—and keep it anchored in your mind,” Deculein said.

Snap–!

Then Deculein snapped his fingers and began writing on the chalkboard he usually used to keep track of his schedule.

“Allotropy is when two things are made of the same element. Although they share their elemental nature, their atomic arrangements and bonding differ—enough to give them entirely distinct properties. Graphite and diamond are the most well-known examples.”

Deculein picked up a pencil and a Yukline tie pin from his desk. One was graphite, the other diamond—they were opposites in form, but both were made of the same thing—carbon in its allotropes.

“Graphite and diamond share the same fundamental characteristic, yet they appear nothing alike—one is common and discarded, while the other is worn on crowns.”

“I know that.”

“... These examples of allotropy are, at their core, different forms shaped from the same element,” Deculein concluded.

“Yes,” Epherene replied, her pen moving across the page.

"However, the structure referred to as a nanotube is a polymer allotrope found within carbon, which in basic terms is a chain of numerous minuscule molecules linked together in succession."

Numerous small molecules linked together = polymer

Poly means many, referring to many tiny molecules linked together to form something solid.

"A carbon nanotube is composed of numerous carbon atoms arranged in a hexagonal framework, granting it extraordinary strength. Like diamond and graphite, it is another allotrope of the same element."

“Aha!”

"However, the carbon itself is of little consequence—so long as you understand the structure of the thesis."

“... Sorry?” Epherene said, her brow furrowing.

“I’m merely using the element carbon to explain these characteristics,” Deculein continued. “However, on this continent, there exists an element with even greater allotropic potential than carbon itself.”

“... And what is that?”

“Carbon may become graphite, diamond, or even fiber, but this—this can become fire, wind, or water, and at times may harden into steel or blaze like the sun,” Deculein continued as he looked toward Epherene. “Of course, much depends on the caster’s property—and their ability.”

Epherene felt goosebumps run through her body and, without realizing it, straightened her posture before speaking, naming an element greater and stranger than carbon itself.

“... Mana.”

“Indeed, that element—we call it mana—and when a human takes it in, it becomes usable mana,” Deculein continued.

At the Mage Tower of the Empire, mana was never classified as an element—and for good reason—since, outside of Yuren, most traditional Mage Towers still used a primitive elemental classification system.

“Most mages do not regard mana as an element. To them, it is a miracle granted by nature—or the fruit of their own power and perseverance. They reject the idea of interpreting their mana through science, and see such efforts as a personal affront.”

Epherene remained silent.

“That stubbornness itself is the very limit of their own making.”

Epherene’s eyes widened as she nodded in understanding.

“From now on, regard mana as a particle separate from yourself—and treat it accordingly. Mana is, in essence, a force that can become anything and one observable through the lens of science.”

After finishing his short lecture, Deculein stepped over to Epherene, who sat on the couch, lowered himself slightly, rested a hand on her shoulder, and looked into her eyes.

“Epherene, the distinction between properties holds no meaning for you. That is the nature of your talent.”

“... Okay,” Epherene replied, planting determination deep in her chest as she gripped the hem of her robe. “I think I can do it.”

Deculein stared at Epherene in silence, his eyes half doubtful—no, clearly filled with open suspicion.

"You only have twenty-four hours before the eruption.”

“I can do it. I’ll try my best.”

“Do you believe in yourself?”

“Yes, because I’ve done it once,” Epherene replied, comparing her notes to her theory. “I’ve never succeeded before, but this time I did. All that’s left is to revise what I’ve already done.”

“It seems there’s much in the theory you’ve yet to understand,” Deculein said, gesturing to the remaining pages.

“Then teach me a little more—for the time remaining!” Epherene replied at once, as if she’d been waiting for that exact moment, causing Deculein to frown slightly at her words.

“I’ll give it everything I have,” Epherene added with confidence. “But if I fail—if you, Professor, don’t give your approval—then I’ll give up on the Ashes.”

Deculein stared at Epherene in silence—the kind of girl who never once considered failure and wholeheartedly believed it would work if she tried hard enough—then, with a sigh, he shook his head.

“Don’t even let the thought of sleeping arise,” Deculein replied.

“Of course, but!” Epherene said, clearing her throat and raising an arch of her brow. “Before that, let me congratulate you in advance.”

“Congratulate me?”

“Hehe. Yup. To become an elder of the Round Table, you need to establish your own School of Magic—and have at least one mage who has demonstrated its spells through practical application, right?”

The title—Elder of the Round Table—basically meant the official leader of a School of Magic.

However, even now—while having developed magic theory so advanced that his promotion seemed inevitable—Deculein’s ascension to elder remained out of reach for a reason.

Deculein himself couldn’t manifest Deculein and Luna’s thesis—not just him, but there wasn’t a single mage on the continent capable of doing it, as the theory was too complex, demanding every imaginable kind of talent.

“But now you have me,” Epherene continued, tapping her thumb against her chest. “That spell you cannot handle—I can now. Hehehe.”

“... And?” Deculein replied, arching a brow in disbelief.

“Congratulations on becoming an elder— Argh!”

Deculein flicked Epherene on the forehead before she finished her words.

“Ahhhhhhh—! Ahhhhhhhhh—!” Epherene screamed, clutching her forehead as if her skull had been struck by a hammer.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Deculein said. “You still have a mountain of knowledge to climb, and time is already slipping through your fingers. That arrogance, paraded so early, is both foolish and pathetic...”

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