Never Die Villain

"Ilya Belozersky..."

Anders tapped the stack of documents atop his desk before setting them aside. They contained Ilya’s academy records, meticulously documenting everything from his kindergarten years to the present, leaving little room for doubt about the path he had walked.

A boy who had devoted his entire life to the sword, with neither the time nor the environment necessary to study magic.

That was exactly what made the situation so incomprehensible.

By every conventional standard, Ilya shouldn’t have been capable of constructing a Domain at his age, even if he had begun studying magic as a child.

There hadn’t been anyone in recent years who had accomplished such a feat.

Not even Crown Prince Siegfried, widely regarded as the greatest magical genius of the current generation before his untimely death, had manifested a Domain.

As for Anders’ own relative, Headmaster Ragnar Leif Ylander, he had never belonged within the standards by which ordinary wizards were measured.

From the very beginning, he had existed in a realm reserved only for the greatest figures in magical history, a realm so far beyond mortal genius that many simply referred to it as the Realm of Gods.

"...Then how exactly is it possible?"

Anders found himself unable to arrive at an answer through reason alone. Every piece of evidence before him contradicted the next, and yet all of it pointed toward the same impossible conclusion.

Did that mean... that boy possessed the potential to cross that threshold?

Before he could dwell on that thought any further, a sudden knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Sir, the next interviewee has arrived."

Anders let out a breath before setting Ilya’s file aside.

"Yes. Send them in."

A moment later, the office door slowly opened, and a young woman stepped inside. The instant Anders recognized her, he rose from his chair and inclined his head in a respectful bow, setting aside his status as Department Head in favor of proper etiquette.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

The young woman blinked, looking almost embarrassed by the greeting.

"Ah... um..."

She awkwardly pointed to herself before offering a nervous smile.

"...I’m here for the interview?"

* * *

"The Young Lady has already departed, Young Lord," the maid said with a polite bow. "However, a separate carriage has already been prepared for your journey."

"Is that so?"

Ilya nodded, unsurprised by the arrangement. Anastasiya had never hidden her disdain for him, and the thought of spending several weeks together inside the same carriage would have been unpleasant for both of them.

This was probably the most sensible decision she could have made.

"Then could we postpone my departure to the North by a day?"

"Of course, My Lord." The maid lowered her head. "If I may ask... what reason should I give the Head Maid? She’ll surely ask me why we didn’t leave today."

Ilya regarded the maid for a second.

The Head Maid had already departed alongside Anastasiya, leaving only a handful of the younger attendants behind to assist him.

Unlike the senior attendants who regularly traveled between the Grand Duchy’s northern estate and the academy, she had only recently been hired and had yet to make the journey north herself. It was only natural that she would look to the Head Maid for instructions.

"I need to stock up on cigarettes," Ilya replied. "I’ll be staying in the North for a month, and what I have left won’t last that long. Besides, they don’t sell this particular brand there, and there are a few places I need to visit before I leave."

"...I understand." The maid bowed her head. "In that case, I’ll inform the coachman to delay your departure until tomorrow morning."

"Thank you."

"It is my duty, My Lord."

Ilya gave a quick nod before turning toward the door.

"I’ll be heading out now. I may not be back in time for dinner, so don’t wait for me. The rest of you may eat without me."

With that, he strode toward the exit.

"Uhm, My Lord, that’s not—"

Before the maid could finish her sentence, Ilya had already opened the door, only to find himself staring at the staircase leading down to the basement instead of the front corridor.

"Ah."

He paused for a moment before closing the door.

"My apologies," he said. "The storm has gotten stronger. It’s become rather difficult to see through all the fog."

"...?"

The young maid stared at him, unable to respond.

As though nothing had happened, Ilya reached for the adjacent door instead. This time, it opened into the correct hallway, and he calmly walked out of the mansion without another word.

"...."

The maid slowly turned toward the window and looked outside.

"...But the weather’s clear?"

* * *

"You’re getting the hang of it. But is there really any point?"

Vera watched Ilya with an uninterested expression, one hand below her chin as she observed.

"Hand signs are something only the Bismarcks can truly exploit. As for you, you’re not even genetically suited for them, let alone born into a family of wizards. You’ll get much farther by mastering incantations than wasting your time with hand signs."

Ilya didn’t respond.

His eyes remained closed as two fingers inched before his face, the remaining fingers folded inward while mana circulated throughout his body.

Although the technique had originated from the Imperial Family, it would be more accurate to call it Siegfried’s technique.

The distinction between conventional mana circulation and the Imperial Family’s technique lay not in the amount of mana it produced, but in the method by which that mana was controlled.

Most children learned to circulate mana naturally, gradually refining its flow over the years until it developed into something uniquely their own.

The Imperial Family’s technique, however, followed the exact opposite philosophy, imposing strict constraints upon every movement of mana from the very beginning and forcing it to travel along a predetermined path without the slightest deviation.

Rather than allowing the body to discover its own rhythm, it demanded absolute discipline.

To many wizards, such a method was unnecessarily restrictive.

Mana was often described as something that should flow freely, adapting to its wielder instead of being forced into rigid patterns, and countless scholars believed that imposing too many restraints only limited a wizard’s potential.

It was for that very reason that the Imperial Family’s circulation technique remained confined to its own bloodline, with very few outsiders ever attempting to replicate it.

For Ilya, however, those shackles were exactly what he needed.

Instead of letting his mana flow however it pleased, the technique forced it down a single path. That rigidity, more than anything else, made it easier for him to control.

"...."

Ilya slowly opened his eyes.

Flames began to gather around him. One became two. Two became four. Within seconds, several fireballs floated around him, each no larger than the palm of a hand.

He raised two fingers toward the empty training ground before reciting a short incantation.

"Ignis Sagitta."

In the next instant, the flames shot forward one after another like blazing bolts, tearing through the air in rapid succession.

"Hmm..."

Vera watched the results with amusement before glancing at Ilya.

"You’re way off your mark."

"Really?" Ilya let out a sigh. "It’s this damned storm. I can barely make out anything in the distance anymore, and even moving has started to feel sluggish. At this rate, I won’t be able to keep pretending nothing’s wrong."

Whoosh——!

An icy wind swept across the training ground.

To everyone else, there was nothing at all. To Ilya, however, an endless blizzard had long since descended upon the world that never ceased, no matter the season or the weather.

The freezing wind weighed heavily upon his body every waking moment of every day, while the ever-thickening snowfall slowly stole more and more of the world from his sight.

Vera estimated he had perhaps a year left to live, but neither of them knew whether Niflheim would allow him even that much time.

"Yeah," Vera said. "That’s going to become a problem. The more proficient you become at using your Domain, the more deeply it imprints itself onto your reality."

"...The closer I get to my expiration date."

"The closer you get to death."

Vera approached him from behind, placed both hands on his shoulders, and leaned close enough for her hot breath to brush against his ear.

"Does that make you happy?"

"...."

Ilya was silent for a second.

"Heh."

Then he chuckled.

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