How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

Carrying the scroll Mirexia had given him, Vinny walked along the road out of the palace. Though he felt perfectly fine and doubted he’d encounter any mishap, a signal scroll was, after all, a friend’s token of concern—he had no choice but to accept it.

He rubbed his head, still lacking any sense of reality. When those radiant characters of holy light had entered his mind, he hadn’t even realized what was happening. There was just a sharp stab of pain, then blank unconsciousness, and when he opened his eyes again, Mirexia was holding him up.

Normally, in such situations, his mind should have gained something—foreign knowledge, fragments of memory not his own. But he felt nothing of the sort. When Friane V asked him earlier, he truly hadn’t lied—before and after, he sensed no change at all.

Vinny massaged his temples. Before leaving the royal bedchambers, he’d even checked himself in the mirror, confirmed he was still just as handsome, and then departed. On his way out he ran into the elderly royal butler, who had also asked if he felt unwell.

The sky was now completely dark. As Vinny followed the path toward the palace gates, he happened to run into a familiar face.

An old familiar face.

At the sight of this “old friend,” Vinny frowned. Only then did he realize—hadn’t this guy also been present at the banquet? But Vinny’s focus then had been entirely on the food; he hadn’t spared him a glance.

“What are you doing here?” Before Vinny could decide how to greet him, the other strode up first, watching him warily.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? Wasn’t the banquet long over? Why are you still hanging around here?” Vinny ignored the hostility, grinning as he threw the question back.

“Vinny, are you even aware of yourself? I am a Dragon-Knight of the royal guard. Isn’t it perfectly normal for me to be in the palace?” Caron’s brows knitted tight. “And right now, I am the one questioning you. Wandering the palace at night, coming from the direction of the bedchambers—what are you scheming? If you don’t confess, I, as a knight of Camella’s royal guard, have the right to arrest you.”

“Again with this routine? Brother, if I’m not mistaken, the last time I came to the palace to select a Spirit Soul, you said the exact same thing. How long has it been, and you’re still using the same line? Can’t you come up with something new?” Vinny dug at his ear, lazily.

“Looks like you haven’t grown much these past months—especially up here.” Vinny tapped his head, amused. “Think for a second. The bedchamber corridors are swarming with Dragon-Knights, all of them elites far above some green recruit. If I had recklessly tried approaching the bedchambers, I’d have been detained instantly. Would it still be your turn to arrest me?”

“Vinny, what did you just say? Say that again!” Caron barked, still mistaking him for the same soft persimmon he could once intimidate.

“Eh? You want me to repeat myself? And just because you ask, I’ll oblige? Sorry, my words are too precious to waste on you.”

“Vinny. So you passed the Carillian Academy exams, beat a few little nobodies at the banquet, and now you think you’re invincible? Floated off the ground, have you?” Caron enunciated each word. “If it weren’t that I’m a year above you, and people would accuse me of bullying, I’d have shown you exactly what ‘there’s always someone stronger’ really means.”

“Oh? And then?” Vinny tilted his head.

He never went looking for trouble. Trouble always came looking for him.

“Why did you come from the direction of the bedchambers?”

“Pfft. Caron, what are you, my keeper? Do I owe you an itinerary? How many spare keys to the palace do you own, huh? One? Two? Any at all?”

“Don’t be like this. Always wearing that bitter face like you’re the only one spending New Year’s alone. I didn’t cause your lonely holidays. Why take it out on me?” Vinny began his shameless tirade.

“Vinny, do you really want to taste the palace dungeons?” Caron’s face darkened completely.

“I do, actually. You’d better call over the Dragon-Knights who escorted me to the bedchambers earlier, and let them arrest me on that charge. I’ll wait.” Vinny crossed his arms, chin tilted up.

“You—!” Caron found himself at a loss for words.

So the bastard knew perfectly well this was nonsense?

“Go on then, quickly. And for the record, if you don’t, you’re my grandson.” Vinny smirked crookedly, caring for no one.

He had had enough of this pampered idiot.

Damn it—before awakening, being bullied was one thing. But now that he’d turned over a new leaf, now that he had awakened—what, he was still supposed to take Caron’s abuse? Did awakening mean nothing then?

That was bullying the honest man.

As for whether Caron might actually take a swing at him—of course not. Even Caron wasn’t stupid enough to attack a royal guest inside the palace.

Which was exactly what would have pleased Vinny most.

Caron simply couldn’t understand. By all logic, Vinny—the clownish fool with unrequited feelings—should have grown ever more distant from the princess, forgotten entirely in the end.

So where had it gone wrong? Why was the princess growing closer to him, even inviting him into the royal bedchambers?

Whether it was by the King’s invitation or Mirexia’s, Caron could not accept it. The thought of that clown stepping where he, a Dragon-Knight recruit, wasn’t even permitted to tread—it stoked his jealousy into flames, burning his chest with fury.

Vinny, catching sight of Caron’s twisted, brooding expression, couldn’t help a mocking laugh.

What was he so anxious about? Was it Vinny’s fault that the princess wasn’t interested in him?

The fool didn’t even realize that even without Vinny, in the “normal story,” he, the lapdog, still wouldn’t get a drop of soup.

There was nothing more to say. With a single glance, Vinny turned and strolled away.

Caron clenched his fists tightly as he watched Vinny’s carefree back disappear, his eyes gleaming with cold light.

――――

Vinny left the palace and returned home. From afar, he saw the house lit brightly, and warmth rose in his chest.

Before, whenever he came back, the place was always dim. Now—someone waited for him.

Though only a roommate, the feeling was different from before.

He stepped into the courtyard and knocked. “Dale, I’m back. Open up.”

Soon came hurried footsteps from the sitting room. The door opened.

“Vinny, you’re back.” Shicodale, wearing white socks and indoor slippers, looked as if he’d been tidying up.

“I told you it’s fine to wear shoes indoors. What’s this?”

“I just cleaned the house again. It’s spotless now. And I found a few pairs of indoor shoes, so I scrubbed them clean.” He placed a pair at Vinny’s feet. “You don’t mind I did that, do you?”

“Not at all. Thanks. Use this home however you like—rummage around if you need. It’s fine.” Vinny thought, if not for being a Moon Elf prince, Dale would make a very domestic partner.

There was nothing valuable in the house anyway—so poor a thief might leave money out of pity. And Dale wasn’t the type to steal.

“Eh?” Hearing Vinny say he could use the home freely, Dale flushed, some thought making his fair face blush.

Vinny didn’t notice, just changed shoes and went inside.

“Need anything? I’ll buy it tomorrow.”

“Nothing’s missing, except food.”

“Then tomorrow, wake me up and I’ll take you out for breakfast. Go bathe first.”

“All right.”

Vinny returned to his room. Vanessa’s shampoos and lotions were still packed in his luggage, though Dale surely had his own.

When Dale finished, Vinny went to wash up too. Only his familiar shampoo and soap—none of the fancy extras.

The bath carried Dale’s fresh fragrance, that faint floral scent he always carried in his hair—soft and gentle, just like him. Probably from some elven bloom Vinny couldn’t name.

He inhaled deeply, then bathed, and when done called out a “good night” toward Dale in his parents’ old room.

Dale answered softly. Like back at the academy, they exchanged good nights before bed.

Vinny returned to his room, shut and locked the door.

He’d told Dale to lock up as well. He knew this house too well—shabby locks a thief could break with a knock, low fences climbable even by someone Aesphyra’s height. Security was nearly nonexistent.

Though unlikely anyone would bother here, he warned Dale all the same.

After all that, unlike in his past life when he’d scroll on a phone, Vinny simply lay down and slept.

And then—he slept straight into someplace else entirely.

“What the—where have I landed this time?” Vinny sighed, looking around the platinum hall.

He was already used to this—closing his eyes in sleep, opening them somewhere strange.

The hall stretched before him, white columns rising like rows of soldiers, endless in sight.

A corridor, leading somewhere unseen.

He was supposed to walk it?

He sighed and stepped forward.

So, was this because of that notebook earlier...?

The further he went, the more it seemed the columns flew past, as if he were moving quickly, until the spotless corridor finally gave way to a new scene.

“What’s this...?”

After several turns, he entered the main chamber of the sacred platinum hall.

Light blazed across the vast chamber. At its center loomed a colossal statue of a six-winged maiden—the Goddess of Dawn.

Below her stood a high platinum throne, flanked on both sides by rows of armored knights in full sacred plate.

Vinny recognized the style instantly.

The Radiant Cross Knights.

Could they be real?

He froze, heart tightening. Why had he woken up inside the Dawn Church?

Yet something was different. The aura of these knights bore no resemblance to the hollow pretenders of the current church. Their spirits were tempered, their faith absolute, forged through fire and blood.

Then—that throne. Was it the Pope’s seat?

“You jest. The Pope would never be worthy to sit there.”

“...?” Vinny blinked. The voice had come from one of the knights.

“That throne belongs only to the Saintess who saves the people. None other is fit.”

...What?

Vinny stiffened. Just what was this place?

Before he could think further, the two knights nearest the entrance sank to one knee.

“Welcome, Saintess.”

Saintess?

Where? Who?

Vinny glanced around. No one.

“Saintess Vinnessa, Your Eminence, please ascend the throne,” one knight intoned reverently.

Wait—Vinnessa? But he wasn’t—

He looked down. His body had shifted. His hands were slender, feminine. His hair fell in long cherry strands.

When had he changed into Vinnessa? He hadn’t willed this.

“Sir Knight... are you calling me?” Vinnessa asked in a clear, melodious voice that startled even herself.

“It can only be you.” The kneeling knight bowed lower. “Please, Saintess, ascend the throne. The former Saintess awaits you.”

“The former... Saintess?” Vinnessa faltered. Unsure what else to do, she moved forward.

Her white high-heeled boots struck the marble, and at each step another knight pressed a hand to his chest and knelt.