Never Die Villain

"Helene—"

"Shh..."

Helene gently placed a finger against his lips, silencing him before he could finish.

"Just close your eyes and let me take care of everything," she whispered. "You’ve already paid me far more than any of my other clients ever have. This is the least I can do for you, Ilya."

"...."

Ilya clenched his jaw.

Frost spread across the wooden floor, climbing over the bedposts as an icy wind rushed through the room, throwing open the windows before snuffing out every candle.

Whoosh——!

In an instant, the room fell into darkness, and the temperature continued to plummet until every breath escaped his lips as white mist.

Yet Helene remained exactly where she was, looking down at him, as though the freezing wind battering the room had never existed. Even after the last candle had gone out, her voice remained as gentle as ever.

"...You’ll catch a cold, Ilya."

"G-Get off...!"

Her fingers slowly trailed across his neck before sliding upward until they reached his lips.

"Ukh...?!"

Gently, she cupped his face before inserting a finger inside his mouth.

"Let my fingers keep you warm," she whispered. "There... there... that’s right. Move your tongue a little closer..."

Whoosh——!

A cold gust tore through the room.

There was no visible origin, yet the force behind it was enough to push Helene away from the bed and hurl her across the room.

She crashed into the opposite wall, the furniture around her shaking from the collision, while Ilya immediately rolled off the bed and forced himself back onto his feet, creating as much distance between them as he could.

"Hoo..."

The cold spread through his body with enough severity that even drawing a breath was painful. Without wasting another moment, Ilya reached into his coat, retrieved a small vial from within, and removed the stopper.

It was the remedy Vera had prepared for him.

He swallowed its contents in a single motion.

Immediately, warmth spread from his chest throughout the rest of his body, pushing back against the unnatural cold that had seeped into his limbs. The frost clinging to his neck gradually receded, leaving behind little more than chilled skin.

Ilya looked up.

"...."

Helene was gone.

His eyes immediately swept across the room, searching every corner where she could possibly have gone, yet there was no trace of her. It was as though she had disappeared the very moment he looked away.

He took a step forward.

———!

In that instant, the room had returned to normal.

The shattered windows had somehow repaired themselves, while every piece of furniture was back in its original place, and the candles that had been extinguished only moments ago now burned once again.

Apart from Helene’s disappearance, there wasn’t a single sign that a struggle had ever taken place.

"...."

Ilya immediately rushed out of the room.

The corridor beyond stretched before him, lined with identical doors on either side. Without stopping to think, he broke into a run, caring little about where he was headed so long as it led him away from that room and away from Helene.

One corner.

Then another.

Then another.

Tak—tak—tak—tak——!

His footsteps echoed through the hallway, yet it was in that moment that he felt something was wrong.

"...."

The scenery had never changed.

The paintings hanging on the walls remained the same. The flower vase atop the same table appeared again and again, as though he were passing it for the first time whenever he ran by.

Even the chandelier above looked no different from the one he had seen moments earlier.

"...."

Ilya slowed to a stop before turning around.

The hallway behind him was no different from the one ahead.

"...."

He looked back once more.

"...."

No matter how far he ran, the distance between him and the end of the hallway never seemed to shorten.

At that moment, voices he could have sworn hadn’t been there a second ago echoed from the rooms surrounding him.

——You want to enroll in the Academy?

——...Yes, Father. You once held a sword too, didn’t you? The knights said I had some talent... so I thought... perhaps I could become someone like you...

——Helene. There’s a reason I laid down my sword and chose the life of a businessman instead. Being a knight isn’t nearly as glamorous as the stories make it out to be.

Ilya’s steps came to a halt.

"...."

The voices weren’t coming from a single room, echoing from every direction at once.

——But, Father... I don’t want to...

——Hush now, Helene. A merchant from Laterano will be arriving this evening. He’s an important guest, and I expect you to receive him properly.

"...."

——He has connections to a Marquisate in Laterano. If things go well, he’ll be willing to introduce us. Do you understand what an opportunity like that means? Do your best tonight, Helene. Endure it for just one evening, and it’ll all be worth it.

"...."

The conversation faded, only to be replaced by another.

The voices changed.

The people speaking changed.

Yet every conversation had the same ending.

——Helene.

——Yes... Father.

Another door.

——Smile a little more. Clients don’t come here to look at someone with that expression.

——...Yes.

Another.

——You did well today. We earned more than expected.

——...Can I rest tomorrow?

——There’s another reservation tomorrow afternoon.

Ilya remained where he stood.

"...."

Slowly, his fingers curled into his palms until his nails dug into his skin. A stream of faint, white mist escaped his lips as he exhaled, though whether it came from the cold or his own emotions, even he could no longer tell.

——Father, please. Just one chance. If I fail... if I lose... I’ll never argue with you or Mother again. Please... just let me try. I’ll prove I can do it. I’ll defeat Sir Otto in a duel!

——Helene... why do you stubbornly insist on something that was never meant for you?

——Because I can do it! The knights said I have talent! Sir Otto said so too! He told me I’d make a fine squire if I kept training! If I can beat him... then you’ll finally believe me, won’t you?!

——And then what? You’ll enroll in the Academy? Swing a sword for the rest of your life? Do you think that’s all there is to being a knight?

——I...

——Look at me, Helene.

——....

——I once believed the very same thing. I thought talent alone was enough to hold a sword. I thought effort would make up for everything else. In the end, all it earned me were scars, debt, and a family with barely enough to survive.

——....

——This business feeds us. It keeps a roof over our heads. It pays for your mother’s medicine, your meals, and the salaries of everyone working under us. You think I enjoy asking this of you? You think I wanted my own daughter to inherit the Crimson Lily?

——...No.

——Then understand me.

The hallway fell silent once more.

When Helene finally spoke again, her voice had become so quiet that Ilya almost failed to hear it.

——...Please.

——You really are stubborn... Very well...

Helene gasped.

——You wanted one chance. Then I’ll give you one. Challenge Sir Otto. If you can truly defeat him with your own strength, I’ll keep my promise. I’ll personally send you to the Academy, and from that day onward, neither your mother nor I will stand in your way again.

——Thank you, Father...! I promise... I won’t disappoint you! I really won’t—

——But if you fail... The moment you receive even a single failing grade, that’s the end of it. You’ll withdraw from the Academy without complaint and return to the Crimson Lily. No more arguments. No more asking for another chance. Do you understand me?

——...I understand.

"...."

But Ilya knew just how that tragic story ended.