BXBX NOVEL Chapter 115: Bachelor of the Mage Tower (3)
Chapter 115: Bachelor of the Mage Tower (3)
Blood surged from his wounds. Yulie’s instincts as a knight kicked in. She moved quickly, assessing his injuries and controlling the bleeding, applying the first aid she had mastered over twenty years of training.
“You’re remarkably composed, Yulie,” Deculein said.
“Don’t try to speak,” Yulie said, her heart pounding in her chest, though there was no time for emotion. She carefully inspected his wounds and prepared to use her mana to heal him.
At that moment...
Grip—!
Deculein grasped her hand firmly. Yulie looked up at him in confusion. He gave a faint smile and said, “... It’s fine.”
“No! You are certainly not fine!”
“If I’m not fine...” Deculein said, placing his hand on her cheek, making her flinch. “... Then, am I dying slowly?”
Yulie examined his injuries closely. His abdomen, pelvis, and other vital areas had all been pierced. She clenched her teeth and said, “... You are dying.”
The tremble in her voice stirred Deculein’s distant memory, pulling him back to when he had been Kim Woo-Jin. Long ago, he had seen her on a screen as she delivered the final blow. As he lay dying, his last words came out in a faint whisper, cursing her under his breath, “Damn you...”
“Even Iron Man dies, it seems... Yulie, I have witnessed my own death before.”
“Stop, please stop talking!” Yulie said, desperate to silence him.
The more he spoke, the more blood flowed from his wounds, yet Deculein persisted, saying, “How strange... That future should have benefited you most of all.”
“Professor, please...”
“I know, Yulie. This must not be the end.”
If he died here, Yulie would never reclaim her true self. Deculein’s death, if it were to happen, had to come by her own hand.
“For your sake, and for mine,” he continued, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking with unwavering clarity. “If you overcome the one you fear most, we will meet again.”
“... Professor.”
"Remember. If you overcome the one you fear most, we will surely meet again."
“What do you mean by—”
Deculein’s words stopped. He closed his eyes and drifted into silence.
“Professor! Professor—!”
He had never once wavered or faltered, but in a single moment, he was gone.
***
Having returned to the present, Yulie glanced between Sophien and Deculein.
“Yulie. Unless you’ve completely lost your mind,” Sophien said, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers against her upper arm, “are you telling me you’ve regressed?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It was exactly one week from today,” Yulie replied, nodding firmly.
Her ability to assess, process, and understand the situation had been remarkably swift. Perhaps the memories were too vivid to be dismissed as merely a dream.
“How interesting. Now, tell me what led to Deculein’s death.”
“There were reports of a demon appearing in the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace,” Yulie said, turning her head briefly to cough. “Cough, cough—! So, the professor and I went to the palace together...”
Blood had seeped from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away, acting as if nothing had happened, and continued speaking.
“Professor professor tasked me with guarding the entrance to the underground chamber. You entered alone—”
“And I met my death inside?” I cut in.
“... Yes,” Yulie said, her voice trembling as if each word carried unbearable weight. Sweat had already begun to bead on her forehead. “Also...”
Suddenly, Yulie groaned, her mind clouded, and she briefly shook her head as if trying to clear it. She gripped the edge of the desk, her voice strained.
"At the time, Your Majesty... you were asleep. The vassals tried, but they could not rouse you."
“... Is that so?” Sophien replied, her brow furrowing as she listened closely to Yulie’s words.
I stood in silence, reflecting on her words.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Cough—!” Yulie replied as her body was wracked by another violent cough, this time sending blood spilling from her lips. The crimson splatter stained the snow beneath her, and with a heavy thud, she collapsed. She had lost consciousness.
I knelt beside her and lifted her into my arms.
“What’s going on?” Sophien demanded, her voice sharp.
I felt the intense heat radiating from Yulie’s body, closed my eyes, and applied Comprehension to fully grasp the extent of her injuries.
“... Her injuries are severe. These are the aftereffects of the regression. Yulie is dying slowly,” I explained.
Regression was the process of returning from the future to the past. As a result, it caused a massive surge of mana throughout the body, usually once, though sometimes more.
If the body was strong, its circuits would adapt quickly; however, Yulie’s body and mana circuits weren’t built that way—partly due to the curse clinging to her heart. She had endured an entire week after regressing, paying the price to save my future self.
“Deculein, you look strange right now,” Sophien remarked with a small, amused laugh. “It’s a face I’ve never seen before. Do you truly love her that deeply?”
I checked Yulie’s pulse and felt for any sign of awareness. She was barely clinging to consciousness.
“... No.”
Therefore, my words would linger in her fading memory.
“I’ve never loved her that much. She’s just someone I’d prefer to keep around. But lately, her constant illnesses have been nothing but trouble.”
Sophien’s lips had twisted into a cynical smirk as she watched me. Soon, the imperial physicians arrived. They carried Yulie away on a stretcher, and I stood there, watching her fade into the distance.
Sophien spoke again, “Deculein.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I quickly master everything—truly everything. When we first met, reading your emotions was difficult, but even that has become easy now.”
“Is that so?”
“But Deculein, you’re lying to me,” Sophien said sternly. I didn’t deny it. “I’m deeply disappointed. Right now, I’d love nothing more than to cut off your head.”
“... I apologize, Your Majesty. However, I doubt I love Yulie as much as you expect.”
Just as I had completed Yulie, she had completed me. It was a story I could never hope to change.
“In truth, I love her far more than you realize.”
It wasn’t that I couldn’t act on this feeling—it was that I refused to. The stubbornness that defined Deculein had always wanted Yulie.
“... Hmph. Whatever,” Sophien scoffed, seeming to grasp my true meaning. But then, she suddenly slumped against the desk. “Ah... I’m so tired... and drowsy again. I was going to scold you more... maybe even learn some more runic language...”
Her words trailed off, slowing until they faded into silence. I glanced at Keiron, who faced me and gave a nod.
The doors to the underground chamber had opened again.
***
[Seventh Cycle]
I stepped into the past, into the underground chamber. As the door opened, I was greeted by the sight of the Imperial Palace garden.
The spring lake shimmered, its surface reflecting Sophien, who sat in a wheelchair. I wanted to approach her, but it seemed I was already too late. She had lost both her sight and hearing. These were the final moments of her life. I couldn’t let her know I was there. I couldn’t tell her that I had broken my promise.
“Your Highness—!”
Her vassals had gathered around her, calling out through their tears. I moved toward her, the grass rustling beneath my feet as dirt scattered.
With her dying breath, Sophien asked in a faint voice, “Is there anyone... by my side?”
Her ears had already gone deaf; she couldn’t hear the answer to her question.
“Yes, I am here by your side.”
The moment I had given her my answer...
“... I wish there were.”
The moment those words left her lips, the world began to shift.
Ruuuumble—!
A tremor shook the heavens and the earth. Soon, the entire space collapsed and inverted, resetting itself once again. The process of regression had rapidly begun.
[... Thirteenth Cycle]
The Imperial Palace had been rebuilt once again. In the thirteenth cycle, Sophien had committed suicide, hanging herself before the agony of her illness could worsen. And once again, the world shifted.
[... Sixteenth Cycle]
In the sixteenth cycle, Sophien had died after receiving a folk remedy from a cult that came from the archipelago.
[... Twenty-first Cycle]
In the twenty-first cycle, Sophien, worn down by the endless regressions, cried relentlessly before slamming her forehead into a rock and dying.
[... Twenty-ninth Cycle]
In the twenty-ninth cycle, Sophien had starved herself to death, refusing to eat.
And so it went in the thirty-third, thirty-seventh, fortieth, forty-third, forty-eighth, and fifty-third cycles. I watched every moment of her death through the Demon’s Mirror. The mirror had deliberately shown me each of Sophien’s deaths.
During those intervals, Néscĭus raged, but there was nothing I could do. As I watched and accepted each of her countless deaths, a realization came to me.
"... Mirror. I believe I have finally grasped what it is you truly desire."
Why this Demon’s Mirror holds onto discarded worlds, why it fixates on Sophien’s death, and why it exists as a medium in the form of a mirror.
"The world," I said, glancing up at the sky. "Yes, the world. That is what you seek to become."
At that moment, a door appeared in the empty air—a simple, unassuming wooden door, signaling that my answer had been correct. It quietly settled on the ground, as gently as falling snow. I stepped forward and opened the door.
***
I had returned to the Imperial Palace and walked through the first-floor corridor alongside Keiron. The hallway, flanked on both sides by statues of knights in plate armor, was called the Forest of Knights.
"What did you discover inside?" Keiron asked.
"I have come to a realization," I replied.
The knight statues carried a specific mana resonance, making them impossible to eavesdrop on or monitor.
“Of what?" Keiron asked.
"First, regression centers solely on Her Majesty. I’m nearly certain of it."
In truth, it had been more than that. The entire world likely revolved around Sophien.
"The Demon’s Mirror desires the world itself," I explained.
"... The world?" Keiron asked.
"Yes. The entity in the underground chamber is a demon that vastly exceeds human knowledge."
This demon had a purpose, a will, and a desire. As countless worlds were discarded with each of Sophien’s regressions, the demon, growing alongside them, had over time developed a singular wish.
I want to be like that world. I want people to live in my world, to see days unfold within it. I want to become reality, not just a world confined within a mirror...
At that point, the Demon’s Mirror had begun seeking Sophien, the one being who defined this world—the very proof of its existence.
"Is it seeking to become a form of god?" Keiron asked.
"It would go beyond that."
"And how should we address this?"
I turned to Keiron, whose expression had remained as resolute as ever.
"Keiron, what is the current status of Néscĭus\'s trail?" I asked.
"I am still tracking him, but he continues to circle me, as if mocking my efforts. I have yet to pinpoint a fixed location."
"Yes. It is most likely a mere decoy."
The Demon’s Mirror had longed to become a real world, not a world confined within the mirror. Allowing that desire to be fulfilled was far from the best solution.
"It has likely scattered several Néscĭus across the continent as decoys. However, I believe I have figured out where the Altar is focusing the regressions."
"Where is that?" Keiron asked, his eyes fixed on my lips, his gaze burning with intensity. It was somewhat unsettling.
"Yulie provided me with a clue," I said.
"A clue?"
"Yes. Do you recall the reports of demons appearing in the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace?"
"... What?" Keiron replied, his brow furrowed.
I reminded him of what he already knew, saying, "Think carefully. There is more than one door leading to the underground chamber."
There had never been just one way to the underground. While the backdoor led to the Demon’s Mirror, the main entrance had stayed sealed, never once opened.
"You’re missing the forest for the trees, Keiron."
It was the main door Jolang had once failed to guide me through, the one that had never been opened.
A wry smile appeared on Keiron’s face as he uttered, "Ha."
"We cannot be sure whether the Altar has gathered centuries or millennia of regressions, but we must act first," I said.
"... I understand your point. However, isn’t it possible that more than one person regressed that day, besides Yulie? Could our enemies have—"
I shook my head. Although the suspicion had been reasonable, the nature of the demon, Néscĭus, rendered it impossible.
"No, that is unlikely. Néscĭus is a simple demon; it can only gather and transport vital energy. To manipulate the harvested energy, the demon must be killed, which would breach its contract."
"A breach of contract?"
"Yes. Little demons like Néscĭus are typically bound by contracts. They possess both intelligence and emotions, and if the terms are broken, they become resentful. They refuse to serve anyone who harms their own kind."
"... Resentful, you say?" Keiron said, scoffing in disbelief. Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn
"Keiron, we will proceed in five days. Until then, continue as usual."
"Understood."
With that, I turned to leave. However, before I could take a few steps, Keiron stopped me and said, "Are you leaving immediately? Knight Yulie will wake soon. Will you not depart with her?"
My legs halted. I thought of Yulie lying in the infirmary and replied, "... That will be unnecessary."
The turmoil of regression had undoubtedly taken a heavy toll on Yulie. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much of her life force she had sacrificed just to meet me again. That was why I couldn’t stay by her side. I wasn’t her comfort—I was nothing but a burden.
"I will no longer require Yulie’s protection. I will inform Her Majesty as well. A knight in poor health is more of a burden than a protector."
As I spoke those words, a heavy sense of finality weighed on me. The end of our relationship was approaching, like petals drifting from a flower, withering and crushed underfoot.
***
"... Hmm," Primien murmured with a sigh as she set the letter down.
The process of reconstructing the incident from the gathered information had been partially tied to her mana attributes. In just 28 hours, she had managed to sketch a rough outline of the events.
Screeeech—!
She had mentally extracted the timeline she’d constructed and placed it into her Mana Container. As the name suggested, this container was a square framework made entirely of mana.
By storing her memories within it, the container would continue the logical deductions on its own—a process known as the Manifestation of Thoughts and Memories. It was this very ability that had made Primien the youngest Deputy Director of the Ministry of Public Safety.
Beep-beep— Beep-beep—
Her thoughts and memories flashed brightly, scanning through the process. As the deductions neared completion, Primien returned the processed memories to her mind.
With her clear, objective reasoning now settled, she turned her head and said, "Ellie."
“Yes?” Ellie responded, pausing her search through the drawers in the Purple Room.
Primien rubbed the back of her neck and asked, "You mentioned that Professor Deculein marks a day of remembrance, correct?"
“A day of remembrance?”
"The day of remembrance for his fiancée’s death."
"Oh, yes! He hasn’t missed it, not once in all these years."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Primien’s lips as she said, "Then I see now why the professor requested an investigation into Cielia."
“Really?!”
"Yes. It\'s still just a suspicion, but I\'m nearly certain."
“Oh, okay! Then please prepare a report and send it to him."
Primien froze at Ellie’s words, narrowing her eyes as she glared and asked, “... A report?”
“Yes. The professor prefers everything in the form of a report. Even minor details must be submitted that way. He says meetings are too time-consuming, people talk too much, and saliva flies everywhere.”
“What an annoyingly meticulous bastard,” Primien muttered, rubbing her temples.
Having to compile all this ridiculous information into a report... who does he think I am, some bottom-rung grunt? Fuck, fudge, firk, funk, feck.
Muttering curses under her breath, she added, "Fine. But I’ll make sure to smear it with spit before sending it off."
“No, nooo, you can’t do that!”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” Primien replied, placing a piece of paper on her desk and picking up a pen.
At the same time, she reviewed her findings from the investigation into Cielia, requested by Deculein. These findings had led Primien to the grim conclusion that Deculein had killed her.
In blunt terms, Deculein had murdered Cielia. His motive seemed to be revenge, or perhaps he had acted on someone else’s orders.
Yet, there was another layer to this—something known only to the Intelligence Agency—that remained unresolved.
“Ellie, get in touch with someone from the Intelligence Agency. Have them handle this document.”
“Okay~ I’ll try to ask them.”
The document had been classified as Level 1 or 2, meaning it couldn’t be opened, even within the Purple Room. Opening it would likely reveal everything.
“A report... That professor really knows how to overcomplicate everything...”
Soon after, Primien had begun drafting the report, starting with the timeline she had constructed.