How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

“Alright, alright—stop staring at the treeline. The ecosystem out here is thriving; a fox or a hare passing by now and then is totally normal. Ignore them—none of them taste as good as fish, yeah?” Vinny glanced in the direction Shicodale had been watching and waved it off.

In an angler’s eyes, there’s fish—and then there’s the water’s surface and the float rising and sinking. What else could possibly matter?

Only the weak get distracted while fishing, gawking left and right. The truly strong see nothing else—alone with the rod, angling for the ages.

Mm. That made Vinny think of that afternoon a few months back, when he’d picked a Spirit Soul at the Royal Spirit Soul Repository. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that Solitary Angler of Ages had matched him so well. There did seem to be a certain logic to it.

When it came to fishing, he did have some cultivation—put aside the fact that he was always coming up empty, he was still a seasoned angler.

If he hadn’t happened to find [Armor Fortress] back then, he might’ve chosen Solitary Angler of Ages as his Spirit Soul. If he remembered right, its compatibility with him was over eighty percent.

Thinking on it now, while it wouldn’t have been the optimal choice, picking Solitary Angler of Ages might’ve been pretty interesting.

Vinny fixed his stare on the float bobbing on the water, saying nothing, fully focused. He was so serious that Shicodale unconsciously let the earlier disturbance slip from mind and shifted his attention to the float, walking over.

“Hsst, hsst! Dale, lighter steps—you’ll spook the fish.” Vinny raised a finger to his lips and lowered his voice at Shicodale.

“Ah—oh, oh.” Hearing that, Shicodale started to answer, then realized he’d spoken too loudly. He hurried to cover his mouth and tiptoed to Vinny’s side, standing there to watch him fish.

Though he was a complete novice and had no idea what was fun about fishing, he just stood beside Vinny, watching the float drift and bob on the water.

Shicodale’s head bobbed like a pecking chick—just like the float on the water. And just then, the float jolted violently.

“Oh-oh-oh?!” Vinny’s delight was instant. “Got a bite, huh—reel it up!”

“Strong pull—tsk, tsk, that’s a big one!” He hauled on the line, excitement bubbling. “We’re eating well tonight!”

“Eh—eh-eh? Vinny, do you need my help?” Shicodale asked.

“Of course—give me a hand!”

At that, Shicodale stepped up and grabbed the line, and together they hauled the “big fish” ashore.

The moment it hit the bank, Vinny’s face went dark.

“You kidding me? Which jerk is this shameless—who throws a busted boot into the water?!” He flung the soggy leather boot aside with a snap, fuming.

“So now boots take the hook, huh? Where’s the fish—where’s this young master’s fish?!”

“Um, Vinny... I think the fish jumped back into the water,” Shicodale said weakly, pointing toward where the boot had landed.

“Ah?!” Vinny looked and saw a fish spring out of the ruined boot. Before he could react, it thrashed twice and popped back into the lake.

“What the—?!” Vinny’s eyes bulged. He wanted to stop it, but it was already too late.

Wait, that’s a thing that can happen?!

So... the fish had wriggled into the boot, bitten the hook inside it, and that’s why he’d “caught” the boot?!

Wasn’t that probability way too low? How did he manage to run into this kind of thing?!

Black lines all over his face, Vinny felt downright cursed. He’d gotten nothing, and the bait was a free lunch for the fish.

Tch.

He could only switch to fresh bait and cast again.

This time, there was a bite almost immediately. Vinny lifted the rod—and a long, thin, black, limp thing came up dangling in midair.

Both Shicodale and Vinny froze half a beat, expressions changing in unison.

“A s—snake?!”

“What the—water snake?!” Vinny didn’t handle it any better than Shicodale; he nearly jumped out of his skin, calves trembling, windmilling his fists wildly in the air while yelping “Yah—yah—yah!”—as if flailing would beat the hooked water snake to death.

Shicodale plopped onto the ground and scrambled backward, trembling as he ducked his head, not daring to look at the “water snake” that had thumped onto the bank and twitched twice. Only when it stopped moving did he timidly lift his wide eyes to peek.

“Um... Vinny?”

“What is it?! Is the water snake dead?!” Vinny’s storm of random punches hadn’t stopped, eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Vinny... that doesn’t look like a water snake. It’s just... a belt,” Shicodale said hesitantly.

“Huh? A belt?” Vinny blinked, then edged closer and gave the black strip on the ground a couple of kicks. Confirming it was definitely an inanimate object, he angrily booted it back into the lake. “Damn thing—go back where you came from!”

“How do you even fish up a belt?! How does someone get hooked with a belt?”

Why was it that whenever he fished, he reeled up weird, impossible junk no one should ever be able to hook?

Vinny couldn’t help wondering whether the problem was the river—or himself. Was it the bait he’d picked?

He mulled whether he should switch bait types.

“And... weird. I’ve chummed this spot for so long and haven’t seen a single fish.” Vinny frowned. “What is going on? There can’t be no life in this lake. How is it I can’t hook a single living thing?”

“Could something down there be stirring up the schools and driving them off?” he muttered, casting again.

“What is this? Can’t I just land a normal fish for once?” No sooner had he spoken than he felt something below tug his line.

“Hm? Again? This time don’t let it be something weird.” He tried to haul the biter up, but when he put some strength in, his brows knit. He put in more.

What the—this time it really feels like a big one. It’s... pulling him?

Vinny’s spirits shot up, but the fish below seemed truly heavy; if he didn’t put in real effort, it wasn’t coming up.

There are fish this big in this lake?!

He dug his heels in, stepping back as he pulled toward shore. Getting nowhere, he hurriedly shouted to Shicodale:

“Dale, give me a hand! This time it’s really a big one!”

“Ah? Oh!” Shicodale responded and toddled up to help. He wrapped his arms around Vinny’s waist and pulled backward, only to find Vinny’s footing was immovable—he couldn’t budge him at all.

Realizing how serious this was, the two of them put their full strength into it.

In an instant, a massive black shadow surged up from beneath the water.

“What on earth—...?” The shadow blotted out the sun over their heads. Vinny and Shicodale stared, eyes wide.

A bright dagger flashed toward Vinny, so sudden it was already less than half an inch from his neck—no time to react at all.

“?!”

As if triggering muscle memory, Vinny activated [Armor Fortress]. Heavy brass shoulders and silver scales descended over him like a colossal guardian. Before the dagger could touch his skin, it snapped away with a sharp rebound.

Vinny glanced down, expression sinking, at the corroded mark on the neck-plate of his armor where white smoke hissed up.

Good grief—poisoned, too.

“You—you, who are you?!” Shicodale’s face was stricken with terror as he stared at the black-clad figure that had surfaced from the depths.

“Motherf—” Vinny spat venom. “And here this young master was wondering why I kept hooking up weird crap—turns out it was you bastards messing with me?!”

He didn’t get to finish. From the dense treeline, several more shadows burst forth, surrounding him and Shicodale in an instant.

“Well, well. Looks like you came prepared. Treason flipped on its head, the river overruns the Dragon Palace—this young master, the capital’s infamous wastrel, actually targeted by assassins?” Peering through the gaps of his helm, Vinny swept a glance across the encircling killers.

“This is the outskirts of Camella’s capital. You dare lay hands on a Camella noble here? Not worried some border patrol will happen upon you?”

“Who’s your master? Hiding in the dark, too scared to show face? Tch—you’re all the same, sewer rats one and all.”

The black-clad men said nothing. They had no interest in answering Vinny’s trash talk. They had come for one purpose: kill.

The ring of blades leaving scabbards ratcheted the tension tight.

They moved fast, in seamless coordination. Some pressed forward to fix Vinny’s attention, while others flung hidden weapons from behind, looking for a chance to wound him.

Their strikes couldn’t pierce [Armor Fortress], but the sheer harassment pinned his footing.

And Vinny knew—if they dared to set this ambush, they had come with thorough preparation.

Another squad broke off, rushing straight at unarmed Shicodale.

Tch!

At this point, Vinny knew he’d have to bring out something real.

“You people—unless I show you, you won’t know fear, will you?”

“Willing to be the pawns of someone else’s scheme to slaughter the innocent... all of you can roll into hell together!” He raised a hand to his earlobe, meaning to tug the charm there—then froze.

Crap! He’d spent too long this morning admiring his dazzling reflection in the mirror and had forgotten to actually put on Frostfang!

Damn it all, he hadn’t even brought his weapon. Wasn’t that just perfect?!

While Vinny fended off the killers’ wheel-formation assaults, another of them was nearly on Shicodale.

“Y-you... what are you going to do?!” Shicodale clutched the bundle of clothes in his hands, voice trembling. She could feel the ill intent radiating from these humans, and terror swamped her.

Vinny tried to break toward him, but a potion bottle flew to the ground in his path, erupting into blazing fire.

Damn—an alchemic fire-element potion!

These men... their background was clearly not ordinary. No roadside brigand could afford to throw around alchemy like this.

If they were using potions of this caliber, it wasn’t for the few paltry coins two penniless wanderers might carry.

No, they meant to subdue Shicodale—the one who looked like the soft persimmon—and then use him to control Vinny.

As Vinny’s attention locked on the front, another shadow from the flank hurled a second fire-red vial.

But he was no longer the reckless hothead he once had been. A term at Carillian Academy had honed every part of him, and he had survived trial after trial, skirting the knife-edge of life and death.

In a heartbeat, he judged correctly: he couldn’t evade. Instinct raised his arm—his elbow struck the bottle’s cork, deflecting it.

The flask smashed on the ground. Sparks flew—straight onto Shicodale.

More precisely, onto the bundle of clothes in his hands—the ones Vinny had just bought for him.

“Eh—eh-eh?!” Before Shicodale even processed it, heat surged—and the two garments were already on fire.

Vinny, weaponless, was pressed too hard to shield him. He racked his mind for a way out, but he couldn’t expect Shicodale—his so-called mascot—to be of much use.

These black-clad men were all sorcerer-class—and most were high-rank. Vinny himself was only a high-rank sorcerer. Without Frostfang, that overpowered weapon, two fists against four hands, the disadvantage was showing fast.

“Vinny...?” Shicodale stared blankly, hands full of the gift Vinny had given him that very day—now going up in flames.

The fire-element potion spread quickly. In moments, the cloth was reduced to ash.

Shicodale’s tear-bright eyes reflected both the burning garments and Vinny’s desperate struggle. His mind went blank.

The clothes Vinny had given him to keep safe were gone.

Burned away—like everything he treasured, consumed by a fire set by villains.

Nothing could be taken back.

The sight pierced Shicodale to the core.

“......” He said nothing, head bowed, tears drying into frost and chill in his eyes.

[Virtue +400]

[Current Virtue: 8314]

Damn it. A whole pack of scum bullying one man—bullying the capital’s number one wastrel of all people?!

If he’d had his weapon, he’d have already spun these bastards like tops!

Just as he was thinking that, the flank rushed him again—this time intent on killing. One carried another fire-element potion, charging as if to smash it straight onto his skull.

Vinny strained to intercept, but he was being pushed to the limit. He readied to block with [Ice Skin Technique]—

—when a black shadow suddenly went flying, scattering assassins like bowling pins.

Huh??

Vinny blinked, stunned. The abrupt reversal shocked not only the killers, but him as well.

Wait—was there another master here?

Could it be... royal patrol soldiers had come to their aid?

...No. Wait.

His eyes flicked to the virtue counter, frozen.

How—how had Virtue jumped by four hundred just now?

Normally, only when a heroine’s emotions surged in connection to him would Virtue increase. The ones tormenting Shicodale were these assassins, not him.

No—it had to be Shicodale.

And when Vinny turned, he saw her.

The silver-haired youth stood there, head lowered, face unreadable—

—and from behind him, a colossal black monstera bloom had erupted, its presence warping the air.