Never Die Villain

Over the past few weeks, several nobles, along with the occasional patron of the Red Light District, had gone missing without a trace.

The families involved naturally launched their own investigations, but every lead they pursued only pointed them toward different locations, each one ending exactly the same way.

In the end, every trail went cold, and the disappearances remained unsolved.

Then, the main branch of the Crimson Lily burned to the ground.

The exact number of casualties was still being determined, but to the Neidhardt Family, the only number that mattered was one.

Their daughter, Helene Erika Neidhardt, had been among those who perished in the fire, with her body never recovered from the charred remains of the building.

"How could this have happened...?"

"Have they still not found the arsonist responsible?!"

Unfortunately for them, that investigation reached another dead end as well.

The investigators found no traces of mana anywhere at the scene, making it impossible to determine whether the fire had been caused by a wizard or by ordinary means.

With no witnesses, no suspects, and no evidence capable of narrowing the possibilities, the investigation only grew broader until stopping altogether.

"Dear... there’s something I need to tell you."

Viscountess Neidhardt slowly raised her head. Her hands remained clasped together on her lap as she struggled to bring herself to continue.

"A month before the fire... there was a boy who came to visit us... He said he was Helene’s friend... the son of the Northern Grand Duke..."

"Huh?"

Viscount Neidhardt stared at his wife, unable to process what he had just heard. Never once had he imagined that his daughter had somehow formed a connection with someone from House Belozersky.

"What do you mean?"

"He... tried to persuade us." She lowered her gaze. "He kept talking about morals... about putting an end to everything we were doing... but I dismissed him... I told him it wasn’t any of his business—"

"You imbecile!"

The Viscount slammed his fist against the table.

"You should’ve told me immediately that someone from the Grand Duke’s household had come here! Do you have any idea what kind of people the Higher Nobility are? They don’t involve themselves in matters unless they have a reason!"

"I... I didn’t think it would end like this..."

"That’s not the point!"

He ran a hand through his hair before letting out a frustrated breath.

"If House Belozersky became involved, then there was never going to be anything we could do. Whether they were investigating us or simply happened to stumble onto something, it wouldn’t have mattered. Once the Higher Nobility set their sights on us, this was always how it was going to end."

"How can you say that?!"

Viscountess Neidhardt abruptly rose to her feet, tears already welling in her eyes.

"Our daughter is dead!" she cried. "She could’ve died because of them, and you’re already talking as though none of it matters!"

She took another step toward him, her voice shaking with every word.

"No..." She clenched her fists. "None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t dragged Helene into the business in the first place. She wanted to become a knight, but you forced her to come back! So don’t stand there pretending this had nothing to do with us...!"

Viscount Neidhardt lowered his head, remaining silent for a long moment before finally speaking.

"...Losing Helene is only a small price to pay."

"How could you?!"

His wife stared at him in disbelief, as if she no longer recognized the man before her. She opened her mouth several times, but no words came out, her grief and anger refusing to become anything coherent.

"Listen to me," Viscount Neidhardt said, forcing himself to remain calm despite the rage directed at him. "You don’t understand what we’re dealing with. The Higher Aristocracy can erase an entire noble house from the registry as though it never existed in the first place, and no one would dare question it. It’s happened before, and it will happen again."

He took a slow breath before continuing.

"Have you never heard of House Li—"

"That’s enough!"

Viscountess Neidhardt’s voice echoed throughout the room as she cut him off.

"That’s enough!" she screamed again. "I don’t care about the Higher Aristocracy, or whatever excuse you’re about to make. Helene is dead, and the first thing you’re worried about isn’t our daughter, but whether this family survives!"

"...."

His wife looked at him with reddened eyes before slowly shaking her head.

"I don’t even know who you are anymore..." she whispered. "If preserving the Neidhardt name is worth more to you than Helene’s life, then perhaps I was wrong to ever believe this house was our home..."

Viscount Neidhardt’s rage finally gave way.

"You damned hypocritical woman...!"

"...."

"You placed a price on our daughter just as much as I did!"

"...."

"You’re grieving now because she’s dead," he continued, "but while she was still alive, you accepted it just as I did. So don’t stand there pretending you’re any different from me!"

That entire afternoon, the halls of House Neidhardt echoed with arguments that the servants pretended not to hear.

Accusations gave way to old resentments, old resentments gave way to regret, and regret eventually gave way to exhaustion, until there was nothing left to say.

By the time the sun had set, the shouting had finally stopped, and from that day onward, a single wedding ring remained on the table.

* * *

Perhaps, with enough time and research, the truth behind that night could have eventually been uncovered.

However, for Helene’s sake, Ilya chose not to disclose anything that had happened within the Crimson Lily, allowing everything that had transpired that night to come to an end there.

Some truths were better left forgotten.

The past few days, Ilya spent his time recovering under Vera’s care.

"You’re shivering."

"It’s because I feel weak," Ilya replied, pulling the blanket a little closer around himself. "I think my body’s heating up because it’s trying to recover. Since my temperature’s higher than usual, my resistance to the cold is probably worse right now..."

Vera placed the back of her hand against his forehead before shaking her head.

"No. Your body’s heating up because your immune system has raised your core temperature, and now your body is trying to reach that new temperature."

She withdrew her hand before continuing in the same calm tone.

"The shivering isn’t the problem. It’s your muscles generating heat because your body believes it’s colder than it should be. If anything, it means your body is still capable of responding."

"So... that’s a good thing?"

"To a certain extent." Vera nodded. "You were exposed to temperatures the human body was never meant to endure, so a fever and shivering aren’t unusual afterward. What concerns me is when the shivering suddenly stops while your body continues losing heat, because that’s usually a sign that it can no longer compensate."

"I see."

"But there’s one thing that doesn’t make sense. You’ve never shivered before."

"...."

"You’ve always tolerated temperatures that would’ve left an ordinary person bedridden, yet now you’re reacting to cold like anyone else."

Vera let out a sigh before meeting his eyes.

"The cold is finally starting to catch up to you."

"...."

"Using your Domain in that state pushed your Inner Realm even further into assimilating with your body. Congratulations. You’re now one step closer to death."

"...."

The room fell silent.

After a while, Ilya looked toward the frost gathering along the edge of the window.

For the record, it wasn’t even winter yet.

"So... how many steps do I have left?"

"If I knew the answer to that, Fallen Wizards wouldn’t be such a mystery."

Ilya looked around the room. The blizzard had already returned, filling Vera’s room with drifting snow and cold winds that only he could perceive.

He slowly reached out with one hand.

Then, with a gentle motion, he swept it downward.

Whoosh——!

For just a second, the blizzard obeyed.

The howling wind shifted direction, and at the same instant, a sudden gust swept across the room, knocking over the flower vase on the table before it shattered on the floor.

"...?"

Vera walked over to the table and inspected it. A thin layer of snow had appeared over the wooden surface, melting almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Hm."

Vera looked at him.

"Do that on me."

"Are you sure?" Ilya tilted his head. "I don’t have complete control over it yet. The force might be stronger than I intend."

"Just do it."

"...Alright."

Ilya slowly raised a hand toward her before giving it a gentle upward sweep.

The wind immediately changed direction, blowing straight toward the ceiling. Vera’s hair was swept upward, while the cups and utensils on the table slowly lifted into the air.

"Hold it."

Vera walked over to the nearest floating cup and picked it up. She turned it over once before releasing it again. Rather than dropping to the floor, it remained suspended where she had left it.

"Can you increase the force?"

"I did before. Back at the Crimson Lily, Helene had completely overpowered me, but I still managed to push her away."

"Is that so..."

Vera’s gaze shifted from the floating cup to Ilya’s hand. The tips of his fingers had already begun darkening once more as he continued maintaining the phenomenon.

"Alright, that’s enough."

Ilya lowered his hand.

The wind immediately returned to its usual direction, and the floating objects gently fell back onto the table and floor with a series of clatters.

Ever since the Crimson Lily incident, the cold wind had become much more noticeable. More flakes fluttered across his vision than before, and the blizzard that only he could see had become dense enough that distant objects were no longer as clear.

Even now, Vera appeared slightly obscured behind the falling snow.

"We’ll focus on self-preservation," she said. "For the time being, there’s little point in learning the other branches of magic. Your Domain is already powerful enough as it is, but that power means nothing if every use pushes you closer to death."

"And that means...?"

A mischievous smile appeared on Vera’s face.

"You’re going to master the art of flames."